This came to me mid-way through episode 7 when Carson rushed into the corridor all red-faced and angry. A short silly piece of nothing but fun :-)
Little Bed
She takes me to bed early whilst the others are out. There's a sense of mischievousness abounding at the uncommon outing. I'm dwelling on trouble; servants stealing kisses in dark alleyways when they should be tucked up in bed, she's cradling her tea and watching me over the top of her china. Then she's there in front of me, bending and smiling in the knowing way she has. Her hand on my knee – gently – and her scent invading my space as her mouth inches closer. Gently. Gently. And then I'm lost and thoughts of young people out at the pictures is gone, replaced by sweet intimacy.
The corridors are empty. We walk together, side by side as innocent as ever, she jangles her keys on the end of her fingertips and I steal a glance at her face. The smile in place as she jostles the metal, her cheeks red and flushed, as healthy as I've ever seen her.
We pass her room, she glances about nonchalantly and we walk on, through the dividing door, to my room, on the end of the corridor, she unlocks the door in some significant show of the power she has over me. Only her.
Inside I move politely but she is eager and giggly. Unhooking the buttons from the front of her dress before I have time to tell her of the depth of my love. She is laughing as I stumble over my words of affection and I don't have time to complete as her hands are pushing my jacket off.
"Not now," she shushes, her fingertips on my bottom lip, "tell me later."
And before I know it she is naked and in my little bed and I give up trying to be the gent and climb in beside her.
With the upper floor empty she is not quite so reserved in her signs of pleasure, and it takes little for her groans in my ear to send me over the edge. It's been a long time since I've felt energised enough to manage it more than once but things are odd tonight, some kind of twisted magic in the air, and she's soft and warm and smells divine and I can't help but fall into her completely.
Later we're surrounded by darkness and her head is on my chest. It's the time I tangle my fingers into her hair, I take pleasure in spreading it out across my skin, as soft as silk, and whisper of my love. She is still and quiet but I feel her smile, sense the shift in the silence ever so slightly as it fills her face.
My hand rests on her shoulder. Heavy stillness surrounds us. I think she is asleep.
"I'm not so eloquent," I say into the dark. "But God knows I love you."
My eyes are closed when she turns over, placing kisses up and over my chest until she reaches my mouth.
"I think you do alright," she whispers, kissing me repeatedly, "and I love you for it."
Suddenly sleep seems a world away as her hand moves down and awakens me again.
The shouts came several hours later. His face was buried in the pillow by my cheek at the time, his fingers wrapped in mine.
He's like a bull at the interruption. He was mid-orgasm after all. And I can't help but snigger into the pillow as he trips and falls into his pyjamas and a robe, red-faced and shouting at the intrusion. Dear Mr. Carson. Always so right and proper.
I snuggle myself down into his little bed, it's far too cold for me to sleep alone tonight.