I feel terrible about how slowly I'm writing this, and I thought that if I published it I might get a boost and write the next chapter a bit more quickly, hence stopping in a quite random place. Probably has a lot to do with my life being a mess of my own making at present. Hope it's ok.
The couch was broad and soft, deep with cushions and high sides. It had no back, and he surprised her by pulling her suddenly into his arms and lifting her off her feet. She had been about to kiss him, and she gasped against his mouth, suddenly so much closer to him. He kissed her in return, meeting her lips very firmly indeed as he carried her around the couch, placing her gently down to lie on the cushions.
Standing back up a little, needing a moment to regain control of his own balance, he cast his eyes over her body. The beads on her dark dinner dress glimmered in the soft light from the room. The light flickered in them as her body undulated with her gentle breathing. She lay, her hands unassumingly at her sides, on hand a little bent at the wrist and resting gently on her stomach, pale skin on dark silk, her head tilted a little at an angle, looking up at him. Their eyes met.
"Richard," she murmured, barely louder than a breath, "Richard."
There was a note of pleading in her voice; she wanted him back with her, close to her. Willingly, he sank back down to the floor, on his knees, kneeling beside the couch so that he could kiss her. He cupped her face, their tongues playing with one another. She moaned against his lips, humming with contentedness and still asking for more.
"Richard, darling," she told him, "Come and lie next to me. Come on," she shuffled a little to the side, "There's plenty of room."
Swiftly, he stepped from the floor onto the couch, stretching his body out beside hers. They smiled at one another as he pulled her back into his arms, pressing her body close to his, her toeing her shoes off at the same time. He heard her give a low but happy laugh as they clattered to the floor and felt her almost squirm with pleasure as their hips met. Carefully, he let his hand wander from where it rested at her waist up to her breast, resting there and then pressing gently over her dress and corset. She gave a satisfied sigh.
"Yes, Richard, more," she told him, "Like that. That's it, darling."
He met her lips once more, kissing her quickly, before allowing his lips to trail down over her jaw to her neck. He ran his tongue gently along her collarbone, nuzzling in the hollow of her throat, squeezing both her breasts more firmly this time. He loved the way her body seemed to rise into his as he did so, as she took a heavy breath.
"Isobel," he murmured against her skin, "I love you but-...I need to take your dress off. Can I?"
She almost beamed at him, but she looked at him, biting her lip gently.
"There shouldn't be a 'but' in that sentence," she told him slowly, reaching her hand out, brushing his cheek with her fingers, "You love me so you're going to take my dress off," her smile widened a touch at the look on his face, "Of course you can."
He took her hand in his, drawing it down to his lips, kissing her knuckles carefully. Then he sat up quickly, helping her to do so too.
"Hang on," she told him, reaching round to undo the hooks on the back of her dress, "It's best if I do this. This dress was not made with this in mind, unfortunately. There, that's it."
Her dress sagged a little at the front as the fastenings opened at the back and he lifted the material away from her as carefully as he could.
"Throw it on the floor," she told him, as he held the dress in his hands, "It doesn't matter."
He did so, casting his eyes up at her as soon as he saw the last of the fabric flutter to the ground. His breath was nearly taken away; she was a vision before him. Her hair was a little ruffled, just beginning to tumble down. The skin at the top of her corset was pale, smooth, flawless and inviting. He felt a lump form in his throat as he took in the sight of her in her underwear; her corset and knickers dark silk like her dress, and thighs, parted a little on the couch, clad in black stockings.
He looked up at her face and he hoped she could tell from his eyes how he felt, how much she overwhelmed him, because he wouldn't trust his voice to work. Lying a hand tenderly on her hip, he drew her close to him.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered to her, his lips on hers again, kissing her so softly.
She was trembling a little under his touch, and he pulled back a little.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion and with passion, "Oh, yes."
He sunk his head gently back to her, kissing the swell of her bosom over her corset. She moaned, griping tightly onto his shoulders.
"Take it off, Richard," she told him breathlessly, "It's alright."
He did not waste time, he removed it as deftly as he could, dropping it onto the floor with her dress. She flushed a little as he took in the sight of her. But, leaning forwards, he groaned taking her nipple into his mouth and he heard her gasp quietly. He touched her as much as he could, breathing with his mouth on her skin. Carefully his hand dipped down between her legs, touching her through her silk knickers. He heard her surprised breathed sharply against his ear and he smiled, she had been expecting him to tell her before he did that. He looked up and into her eyes, finding them swimming with passion and pleasure. Her mouth was half open and, not removing his fingers, he leant up back to her and captured her lips with his own.
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