Follow up to Batwing's excellent fic The Holiday Gift. Just sex, really.
Holding hands, hoping that they would not bump into anyone on their way upstairs, they made their way up to the room that Isobel had been given for the night with great impatience, buoyed by the sudden happiness that this turn of events had afforded them. Reaching the correct floor, hovering on the servants' stairs, Richard's hands slipped around her waist, pressing her back against the closed door that led to the main corridor, unable to resist the desperate need he had to kiss her. Though aware that they had to make it to her room pretty quickly or else seriously risk discovery, Isobel decided to humour him for a moment; but the comfort and feeling of his lips on hers after the intense loneliness she had felt not too long ago made her quickly forget any ideas of caution as she became entirely absorbed in him and the way he was kissing her.
He explored her mouth thoroughly, his hands ghosting against her breasts over the soft black fabric of her dress and her corset. Slightly surprised, she moaned out loud against his mouth, the sound catching on the bare stone of the corridor and echoing slightly. The sound brought her back to her senses somewhat, reminding her of where exactly she was. Their lips left each other, though his hands returned to hold her waist securely and her fingers latched together at the back of his neck. The emotions, the sensations coursing through both of their bodies were heightened by the desperate need and longing for each other that had led up to this point in the evening, and they had come dangerously close to being entirely overwhelmed by it. They rested their foreheads together, breathing heavily, watching each other.
"I've wanted you for so long tonight," he whispered, his breathing ragged, watching her with dilated pupils, "You're divine. You look beautiful, and you smell so warm. I didn't even know a person could smell warm before."
She smiled softly, capturing his lips briefly again, their noses nudging together; heightening the palpable feeling of comfort that surrounded them both.
"Richard, as much as a part of me would very much like it if you would just take me now, like this, I think it would be better if we at least tried to make it to my room."
He groaned audibly at her words, and she used his moment of considerable distraction to disentangle their bodies, to nudge him away from her slightly and take back ahold of his hand and lead him through the door and along the corridor towards her room. It was as much for her own good, for her own sake, as his that she did so: she got the feeling that if they did not move to her room now they never would. The excitement that the risk of being caught like this caused within her was rather more enticing than she would care to admit. At the moment she did not care about anything but him, and her, how she loved him, and how their bodies moved together; it was addictive.
She closed the bedroom door behind them with a snap, and locked the door for good measure. It would be hours before anyone else was in this part of the house, but she very much intended to be here for hours.
Standing beside the bed, his eyes were fixed irremovably on her as she turned back from the door to face him. Her breath hitched uncontrollably as her eyes found the look in his. Her knees went ever so slightly weak and she slumped back a fraction against the door. She could hardly contain the tumult of her feelings for him, she could feel that her skin was hot against the cool silk of her dress. Suddenly, it was all she could think of to feel his skin against hers.
She crossed the room without further ado, back into his arms. She let him kiss her hungrily, moaning as he nipped at the skin of her neck. She moaned his name into the soft candlelight of the room as they slowly sank down onto the the bed, shrugging her shawl away from her shoulders as she did so, so that the bare skin of his hands closed gently around her elbows, igniting something akin to wildfire deep within her flesh. His hands brushed down her forearms, shedding her long gloves in one smooth motion, exposing more of her skin, freeing her fingers to work on his collar.
His face became buried in her hair as he slid the pins out one by one, his mouth latching onto her ear, taking the lobe between lips and sucking hard. It made her fingers fumble with the knot in his tie; moaning in a mixture of passion and frustration. The broad expanses of the fabric of her dress folded around around his legs, making it awkward for them to move together.
"I need..." he told her between deep kisses, "To get you out... of this dress."
She willingly complied; leaving go of his neck, lying flat on the bed, waiting in seductive passivity for him to undress her. He did so gently but swiftly, caressing her breasts and her hips through the fabric before he peeled it back and pulled it down over her legs, the black of the dress contrasting starkly with her white underclothes and corset. He loved to see her like this. Paradoxically, in his head, there was something incorruptibly pure about his lover, beautifully wanton as she was. He leant forwards, caressing the insides of her thighs, letting her reach up to nudge his waistcoat away from his shoulders and unbutton his shirt.
"That's better," he whispered against her skin as he moved far enough up her body to reach the curve of her breasts with his mouth.
She moaned, pushing his head further into her bosom with her hand. He resisted, receiving a moan of protest from her, easing her to sit up so he could unfasten her corset. Despite her initial reluctance, her reaction would seem to indicate that she felt the benefit once he had pulled her to sit in his lap and his mouth was fastened around her nipple, rolling it slowly with his tongue before moving on to the other. Her hips rippled softly against his lap in time with his mouth, her arms draped lazily over his back. She was groaning softly as he teased her, rubbing herself against his thighs. He could feel the warmth, almost the wetness, of her through his trouser and her knickers.
His mouth leaving her bosom, he lifted her back softly to lie flat on the bed. Her deliciously laboured breathing, the undulatory motions of her body as she waited for him made him shed his belt, his shoes his trousers and his socks in great haste and make his way to lie down beside her again.
"How do you want to do this?" he asked her in her ear, the same ear he'd taken into his mouth earlier, "What do you want, Isobel?"
"Kiss me," she told him, "Please, Richard, kiss me."
He kissed her softly, chastely, almost, on the lips. She frowned in a half-confused frustrated.
"Richard," she groaned, "Don't... More."
He rested his hand on her naked hip.
"More what?" he asked her.
"Please, kiss me, touch me, anything," she took his hand tenderly in hers, moving it, guiding it beneath the waistband of her knickers and between her legs, "There."
His thumb and forefinger closed softly around her nub, and he groaned at the dripping wetness he found there. Her own hand remained over her sex, trapped by his. It gave him an idea.
"Would you let me...?" he asked her, something like hesitation surprising him at the stage.
She nodded falteringly. Gently, he took her fingers back into his hand, turning them so that the tips of her fingers pressed against her own sex, guiding her to start a slow circular motion. He leant back for a few moments, watching her get used to it and becoming more relaxed- her body folding a little with abandon at what her hand was doing-, revelling in the sight of her as she pleasured herself. He had never seen anything more arousing. Then, he leant forward and did as she had bidden him, he kissed her where her fingers were. Her eyes had been closed and her hips bucked in surprise.
He continued for a while, drinking in the taste of her, until he felt her hands loosen on the back of his head.
"Richard, Richard," she breathed, "I want you now."
He disentangled himself immediately, although he had no intention of satisfying her plea straight away. Moving back up her body, he lay beside her, lifting her hand to his lips and sucking the taste of her sex off her fingers, his thigh slipping between her legs and brushing against her. The contact was almost more than she could bear and he thought he heard her mutter some small obscenity under her breath.
He released her fingers, kissing her lips once before nudging her thighs apart and pushing into her. She was exquisitely ready for him; they both let out a groan as he sank himself in to her up to the hilt and withdrew almost to the tip, as slowly as he could. Her hips rose to meet him as their speed increased. She buried her head in his shoulders, unable to kiss him any more, focusing her entire being on the connection between them, as her orgasm came with a blinding force and she cried out into the night. Seconds later, he exploded inside her, his body collapsing blissfully against hers, their arms wrapping together in a lazy, trembling instinct.
Please review if you have the time.
I think Batwings has a Part 3 planned.