"You read the silliest books."

Anna paused in fixing her braid. She narrowed her eyes at Gwen, who was perusing Anna's stack of books with thinly veiled disdain. "Excuse me," She challenged. "I don't go prying into your correspondence course. You leave my books be."

"Me mum always said that them French novels would give a girl hysterics," Gwen said sagely.

"I like them," Anna replied firmly. "Some of them are a bit silly and some of them are rather—shocking, I'll admit, but they're relaxing to read after a long day. Now leave off." Mischief sparkled in her eyes as she spoke.

Gwen grinned. "Have it your way. Good night then." She blew out the light with a puff and flopped onto her bed with a sigh.

Anna smiled, following in suit. It had been another long day and her limbs ached pleasantly. She always appreciated how she felt after a hard day—it was only waking up the next morning that was hard. Smiling a little, she buried herself under her covers, letting the sweet balm of exhaustion carry her off to sleep.

The first thing she knew was that she was dreaming. She was dreaming, so that made it all right.

She was sitting next to Mr. Bates—in the servant's hall? At the table? No. They were definitely in her bedroom sitting on her bed. For a brief moment, she wondered where Gwen was—her bed seemed to be conspicuously absent—but Anna was then filled with the strange certainty that Gwen would not interrupt them.

Mr. Bates was staring at her, smiling his sad, gentle smile. She licked her lips nervously.

"What was it you wanted to ask me, Anna?" He asked her.

Anna smiled. This was her dream. She could ask whatever she liked. She could do whatever she liked. That thrilling thought sent shivers down her spine.

"Mr. Bates," She started slowly, letting her eyes fall on his hands. "You like me, don't you?"

"Of course I do," He replied softly. It was a promising answer, but not what Anna was looking for.

Feeling braver, she moved nearer to him. "But do you…do you love me?"

At this, he took her hand, lightly kissing her palm. "Yes," He breathed. "Yes, I do. But—"

"No," She shook her head. "No interruptions. No caveats. Just—you love me. So please kiss me now…" Before he could protest (it may have been a dream, but he was still Mr. Bates after all) she leaned towards him, capturing his lips with hers.

The kiss was just as she imagined it would be. At first it was sweetly tender, the most innocent brushing of lips, but as she leaned into him, ardor took over. He cupped her face in his hands with the most heartbreaking tenderness, drinking her in deeply. He broke away from her, resting his forehead against hers, eyes still closed. Her cheeks warming, she lifted her head to kiss him again, curiously touching his lower lip with her tongue.

At this probing, she felt his mouth open and their tongues met, and Anna giggled a little at this new kind of kissing. She felt him smile against her lips, letting her take the lead, and she explored his mouth thoroughly, liking the little groan he made when stroked the roof of his mouth. Playfully, she nibbled on his lower lip and suddenly she was halfway sprawled across his lap, his fingers entangled in her tresses.

When he finally broke away from her, his breathing staggered, Anna knew what she wanted. "Show me," She whispered.

"Show you what?" Mr. Bates asked, his breathing becoming more labored.

"Show me how to love you," She said, proud of her courage. "Show me how to make love to you."

"Oh, Anna," Mr. Bates murmured.

"I want you too," She pressed. "Show me. Please."

He gave her another enflaming, melting kiss and Anna sighed into his mouth as his fingers wandered to her sides. She was wearing a thin cotton nightgown and she impatiently pulled it up to her knees, letting herself straddle him fully. He trailed kisses down her neck and shoulders, sending fluttery waves into her stomach.

"You have such lovely skin," He told her in a tone barely above a whisper. She shivered when she felt his tongue grace her elbow, alternating between light nips and licks. Hurriedly, she loosened the ties of her nightgown, giving him as much access to her shoulders and collarbone as she could. Still, he took his time, teasing her skin delicately till it turned pink, letting his fingers dance down her sides.

Curious herself, her fingers wandered towards the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing each one. She had had brothers, she knew what men looked like unclothed, but something about undressing Mr. Bates, uncovering dark hair across his chest, that made her breath hitch and her cheeks flush. Her fingers touched, fascinated by the unfamiliar texture of hair and skin.

Hesitating for half a moment, she marshaled her bravery and kissed his skin, just under his collarbone. She heard his breath rattle in his throat like she'd done something painful, but his gentle fingers continued to caress the planes of her shoulders. He watched her explore his chest with a fevered gaze, and she paused in her ministrations, smiling at him.

"More," She breathed headily. "Show me more."

He lifted her onto the bed more fully, so she was lying next to him. He kissed her again, his hands spanning her thighs, daring to touch her soft skin. She moaned into the kiss, streams of fire coiling into her belly. He shucked his shirt completely off and Anna reveled in the feeling of his skin against hers. Wanting more of that feeling, she mirrored Mr. Bates' actions, removing her nightgown. She bared herself before him.

Anna probably should've felt shy or some kind of maidenly modesty, but this was her dream, after all. She could be as brazen as she liked. The consequences were hers to control and enjoy. His eyes gleamed hotly as his feasting gaze swept all over her. He pulled her into his arms once more, kissing her deeply, making her head spin. She gasped when he bit her neck and absurdly hoped it would bruise. An uncivilized part of her liked the idea that he could mark her that way.

Anna cried out when his hands finally graced her breasts. Fire shot through her veins once more as he gently cupped and squeezed; the sensation of his roughened fingers on her sensitive nubs was almost more than she could bear. He bent his head and pressed open-mouthed kisses to one, laving his tongue against her nipple and performed the same treatment to the other breast. The sensation was past fire, it was pure tingling electricity, swimming through her skin, making her feel hot-headed and dizzy.

"Mr. Bates," She moaned desperately and he his brief pause was agony.

"John," He breathed hotly. "Please call me John."

She repeated his name back to him, feeling deliciously unseemly as she did it. John. It felt right on her lips. It felt more than right.

His tongue glided down the valley of her breasts and took special attention to the sensitive planes of her belly. Mr. Bates nipped harder and Anna felt more of that fierce pleasure from his markings.

Cradling her hips in his hands, his tongue traced her outer thighs. Anna watched in hot embarrassment when his fingers strayed to her inner thighs, feeling how moist they'd gotten.

"John…" Her voice made his name a sweet plea. His eyes never leaving hers, he let his finger slide against her wet thighs before sucking the flavor from his finger.

"I taste—" She faltered.

"Incredible," He answered huskily. "You always taste incredible." He bent his head between her thighs and Anna cried out throatily. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. He lapped at her fluids, exploring her folds with languid ease, and Anna couldn't stop the shudders that consumed her every movement. She was going to wake all of Downton Abbey with all the noises she was making, but she couldn't help it, not with every lick and kiss setting her core ablaze…

"Anna?"

She could feel his skin against hers—he must've kicked off his trousers—but all she could think was how much she wanted him. For months she hadn't been able to understand why Lady Mary would take Mr. Pamuk to her bed with no thought of marriage, but with Mr. Bates between her thighs, she was starting to understand…a thrill of longing leapt up her body as he lifted his head, kissing her thighs and stomach, his eyes asking if she wanted more.

"Anna!"

Dear God yes, she wanted him to possess her fully, to make her his natural wife in body if not in name. She moaned when she felt his hardness touch her dripping core, an aching, cavernous hunger demanding that he enter her—

"ANNA!"

Anna's eyes shot open. Gwen was shaking her shoulders, looking worried.

"You were having a nightmare," Gwen said concerned. "You were thrashing in your bed and moaning!"

Anna just blinked at her.

"Look at you," Gwen pursed her lips. "You're drenched in sweat. Look, your nightgown is all damp! Do you want to borrow one of mine? Shall I wake Mrs. Hughes and get her to make you some tea?"

Anna shook her head violently. "No, no! Let's—let's not bother Mrs. Hughes. I'm…just fine and I've a spare nightgown of my own. Thank you, Gwen." Her voice was high and reedy as she spoke and she tried to ignore how uncomfortably moist her thighs were.

"Bet you it was them French books," Gwen nodded towards Anna's stack. "I heard they were all violent and graphic. Could give any girl the horrors!"

Anna choked on the water she was gulping. "You may be right," She said grimly. Nevertheless, Anna thought to herself as she went to the wardrobe to retrieve a clean nightgown. She was not going to be getting rid of them.