Lucien's heart was pounding in his chest, the rolling pin heavy in his hand. Jean had just completely improved his experiment with a keen eye and simple logic. The sound of Jean-his perfect, buttoned up, proper Jean-smashing a plate all over the table and walking away from him with a goodnight kiss, confident and sure.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this aroused.

Dropping the rolling pin onto the table, he headed out of the kitchen, hoping to catch Jean before she retired upstairs. Rounding the corner, he was relieved to see Jean in the hallway.

"Jean!" He called out to her, watching as she stopped in her tracks and turning towards him, lips still twitching up in a proud smile, and eyebrow raised in question.

But there were no words for this feeling, nothing more to say. Cupping the back of her head, he pulled her to him, mouth slanting over hers. His tongue swept over the seam of her lips, pushing inside to explore the taste of her tongue as she opened beneath him with a groan.

Jean was surprised at his ardor and could do nothing but cling to him, just as desperate as he was. Something about the smashing of the plate, feeling like a true partner to him had been completely freeing.

This was her future husband and she loved him and damn anyone who had a problem with that. No more holding back. Not now.

Lucien had walked them back a few steps and her back collided with the wall with a thud. Jean moaned at the feeling of being trapped between the wall and Lucien's body. He pressed against her, desperate to create friction; desperate to feel her against him.

He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. "Jean, I'm so sorry. I got carried away. I-mmph."

But Jean didn't want his apologies. She wanted his mouth on hers. Her hands in his hair, tugging him back to her mouth, Jean took what she wanted. One of Lucien's hands grazed the side of her breast, making her jump, before settling on her hip. She arched into his touch, relishing in this newfound freedom.

Lucien moved his mouth to the underside of her jaw before settling at the soft, sensitive skin of her neck. Jean hissed at the feel of his beard rubbing against her. She responded in kind by raking her nails down his back, slipping her hands beneath his waistcoat in search of bare skin.

With each sigh of his name falling from Jean's lips, Lucien sucked at her skin a little harder, his hand wandered a little further. His pants were now unbearably tight, his arousal pressed against her hip. He realized, to his horror, that he had begun to thrust against her, his rhythm in time with her moans and sighs.

It took everything inside of him to pull away, to put a stop to this before they couldn't stop themselves anymore. Jean whimpered as he pulled away from her, embarrassed by how much she wanted him. She knew her cheeks were flushed red with desire and she had no doubt if she inspected her neck, there would be a lovely red patch where his mouth had been sucking moments before.

Lucien cupped her face, brushing her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, and grinned abashed. "We needed to stop now before we couldn't stop at all, love."

Jean caught his thumb in her mouth and sucked gently and watched, delighted, as she saw his eyes darken further in arousal. She'd have to file this away for a later interlude. She let his thumb go with a soft pop and nodded. "I wasn't complaining, but what was all that about? I thought you had meat to beat?"

There was a pause and then they were both laughing, leaning against one another. Lucien couldn't believe there was a time when Jean wouldn't crack a smile at 'improve his stroke,' and now here she was making meat jokes.

"You're right, I do. But you distracted me?"

She looked affronted. "I did?"

His eyes dropped to her lips again and he nodded. "Oh yes, Jeannie. I love it when you talk science to me."