A/N: thank you again for all your reviews and patience! Enjoy!

His bare skin glistening with perspiration, the muscles of his back rippling under her fingernails in time with the movement of his hips, his legs strong as bands of steel between her thighs...

"Maria.." his low moan as they share a hot, rasping breath. His fingers raking through her hair, the wet warmth of his mouth finding a breast.

"Maria my darling.."

The desperation in his voice to fulfil her need, his own need. Her body working in harmony with his. Every nerve on fire for more of him. More of his touch. Pinned under every intoxicating inch of him.

"I love you my darling," his rough command in her ear, "come apart for me."

A whispered plea. A desperate cry. A scorching white light...

Maria awoke with a shout, gasping for breath, her body slick with perspiration and a newly familiar ache throbbing low in her body. The dreams were becoming more frequent, not to mention vivid and she secretly cursed himself for having awoken so soon. Ever since that morning a few days ago when Georg had touched her for the very first time, evoking sensations within her that she'd never dreamed her body could feel, drawing her first climax out of her with strong, skillful fingers - she'd been tormented with desperation both in consciousness and in sleep.

She'd been following Georg around the house like a lost puppy since that day, and at night he would follow her into her dreams - snapshots flashing through her subconscious, all of them more vivid than the last and all of them based on the intense memories of their last forbidden encounter. The taught planes of his chest as he strained for release, his strangled gasps, the feel of his spasms in her fist, his face contorted in anguished ecstasy. Four long days and four sleepless nights of these tortured recollections and she was already at breaking point. She simply couldn't take it anymore.

As if on autopilot, her hand moved of its own accord to the pulsing ache between her thighs, stroking experimentally against the unbearable pressure building there - just as Georg's skilled fingers had done only a few days ago. She shuddered violently at the immediate pleasure that spread through her body, shocked by just how good it felt. But it wasn't enough, it would never be enough. She needed him. She needed to feel his body against hers, needed to hear the silky tendrils of his voice coaxing her into ecstasy, needed to see the burning desire in his eyes to reassure her that what she was feeling was not only natural, but welcomed.

Like a woman possessed, she pulled the covers back without a moment's hesitation and scrambled out of bed, floating as if in a dream towards the door and out onto the landing. Her bare feet seemed to carry her without any instruction from her brain, her nightgown billowing around her ankles as she moved as silent as a ghost down the staircase, the stillness of the house buzzing in her ears.

The grandfather clock in the grand hallway marked 2.10am, but Maria was in no state to notice. As she moved with obvious intent, she had only one destination in mind: Georg's study. Where her memories of him were most vivid. Where his presence would be most felt, even if he wasn't there - which he almost certainly wouldn't be at this ungodly hour. But she would feel his presence there nonetheless, in the deep mahogany furniture, in the rich colour of the walls, in the heady smell of leather. Just being in the room that spoke so much of him, the room filled with so many intimate memories between them, would be a comfort to her in her current state of restlessness. She hadn't even considered what she might do if she were to find the study door locked - but in her somewhat hypnotic state of mind, she simply allowed her feet to continue carrying her forward, one impatient step at a time.

Despite her frantic hurry, she suddenly froze in her tracks, her feet rooted against the cool marble floor. The study door was only a few yards away but she was gripped with momentary paralysis by the halo of light she could see glowing around the doorframe. Was Georg awake after all? she wondered, her heart suddenly in her throat. The possibility made her feel as though she were being plunged into the ice cold waters of reality - here she was, standing in the middle of the hallway at 2am in nothing but her nightgown without so much as a single rational thought in her head. What on earth did she think she was doing, tiptoeing around the villa in the early hours of the morning! It was entirely inappropriate, entirely unbecoming - and all because she quite evidently lacked the self control needed to stay firmly where she belonged; tucked up in her virginal bed.

And yet - there was something so alluring about the golden hue of light casting its way out of the crack in the door and painting the shadows of the hallway. So alluring in fact, that her mutinous body seemed to blow by all the warnings of her tormented mind and began to shuffle closer, as though it were under some sort of spell that drew her helplessly towards her fateful destination.

Time seemed to stand still as she made her approach, her footsteps as silent as a church mouse's - and she was suddenly confronted with the memory of when she'd first stumbled upon her brooding employer's ballroom. It had been an audacious intrusion on her part, but one that couldn't have been helped, due to her curious nature and complete inability to follow the rules. And she felt every bit the rebellious governess again now as she stepped up to the study door, peering through the small gap while curiosity bubbled in her gut.

Her heart gave a little jolt as she was greeted by the sight of her captain inside the room, handsome and brooding as ever - and she would've made herself known with a gentle knock, but she found herself so captivated by the mere image of him that she couldn't bring herself to move. He was bare chested, clad only in pyjama bottoms, with his thick hair askew - looking larger than life despite his dishevelled appearance. And he was pacing back and forth in agitation, his brow furrowed as he muttered to himself as though he were engaged in some kind of internal conflict. But it wasn't the gentle ripple of his torso, nor his tormented monologue that kept her firmly rooted to the spot. Rather, it was the fact that he was quite obviously aroused. The evidence was plain to see, fighting hard to escape the confines of his trousers as he paced the floor, and the realisation made it almost impossible for her to draw breath. It seemed that he was desperately trying to ignore it and she wondered whether this was the subject of his internal battle. Had she herself not woken every night since their last encounter, trying desperately to fight against her body's desires?

She watched him, utterly transfixed, knowing she shouldn't be invading his privacy like this but finding herself completely unable to look away. And then - quite without warning - Georg gave a strangled growl of defeat and threw himself down on the sofa, his brow knitted and his face flushed as he freed himself from his pyjamas and wrapped his fist around the source of his frustration.

Maria's hand flew to her mouth to mask her scandalised gasp and she felt her cheeks burn hot as she watched, scolding herself for the audacity of her intrusion. What on earth was she doing, loitering in the hallway in her nightgown and spying into rooms she had no business looking in! And yet she still made no move to look away from the scene in front of her, her oblivious fiancé working himself into a frenzy. Any other virgin bride would surely have been scared out of her wits and run for the hills without a moment's hesitation. So why then, as she watched Georg's eyes flutter closed and his hand move in a heavy rhythm, did she find herself suddenly paralysed with arousal?

A low groan from her fiancé suddenly left her gripping the doorframe for support, and then she heard something so stirring that it robbed the remaining air from her lungs.

"Oh God, Maria..." Georg murmured to himself, entirely lost to his own fantasy. She didn't even hesitate, not for a single moment. Without so much as a conscious thought, her body followed his call - pushing the door open and stepping over the threshold into the soft glow of the study.

"I'm right here darling," she rasped, her heart thundering in her mouth, "I'm here."

Georg froze and bolted upright, his eyes snapping open in alarm before they landed on her and narrowed in confusion, as if he were trying to work out whether she was real or part of his private fantasy. She thought he might scramble to cover himself or at least make some sort of flustered excuse, but he did no such thing. Instead, his shocked expression gradually dissolved into one of knowing amusement, and his blue eyes danced dangerously as he slowly sank back against the cushions - exposing more of his lap to her in a flagrant invitation.

"Hello darling," he purred, his eyes as dark as the night sky outside as she struggled to tear her eyes away from his blatant arousal, "I missed you. I've been so out of my mind with desire that I haven't been able to sleep. I came here to clear my head but the memories... I just.." his gaze crawled down her body hungrily, making no apologies, "...couldn't help myself."

Could she really blame him? Hadn't she herself left the safety of her virginal bed to come in search of the stirring memories this room held? To assuage her arousal with the reminder of his presence? Only now that she was here, she could hardly unscramble her thoughts, and she merely stared at him in awe, her chest heaving and her cheeks flaming at his words.

"Please tell me you aren't just going to stand there watching me Maria," he taunted, the tendrils of his voice snaking into her ears and tightening around her lungs, "not now that I know what your touch feels like... a thousand times better than my own."

Georg could hardly believe his eyes. Years of training had given him the ability to feign a sense of worldly control, an air of unaffected nonchalance - and if he was honest with himself, he was not at all ashamed of what his fiancé had discovered him doing. He was a hot blooded man in his prime after all, and a man tormented by a constant proximity to his love without ever being able to take her for his own. It was inevitable that he would need to relieve his frustrations sooner or later. And if he thought that her touch the other day would've satiated his need, he would've been wrong.

But despite his lack of shame, he found himself nevertheless entirely knocked off balance by the sudden and unexpected presence of his bride. She looked like an angel, draped in white with cheeks flushed and blue eyes wide. Better than any fantasy. What stirred him the most however, was not the fact that she'd discovered him in a compromising situation - it was the fact that she hadn't fled from what she'd discovered. Instead, she had stepped boldly into the room, her mouth agape and her eyes flashing with a curious need.

Unlike the women he was used to in high society, his Maria wore her heart on her sleeve for him to see - and he was old enough and wise enough to recognise the desire churning in her eyes. He found the realisation both surprising and fiercely arousing. He shouldn't have expected any less from her really - after all, had she not responded bravely and ardently the other morning when she'd learned how to bring him to climax? She hadn't shied away from him then, so why should she now? He decided to take a chance.

"Come here," his voice was gentle, but it was a command nonetheless, a command that fired a warning like a flair straight to Maria's brain. He was acting very much like the captain she'd met when she'd first come to the villa - imposing, assertive, mysterious. And she realised, with a shudder, that she had willingly stepped into the lion's den. She had sailed into unchartered waters, she had leapt wholeheartedly into the fire - and now, she was powerless to turn back. The real question was, was he the lion, or was she? She'd been the one to seek him out in his private domain, she'd been the one to follow his moans of longing, she'd been the one to create the dangerous situation they now found themselves in - and if she was completely honest with herself, she felt empowered by the woman she was becoming.

But despite her boldness, she still stood rooted to the spot - her body and her mind in conflict with one another. His face was a mask of smouldering, primitive need that made it impossible for her to breathe, let alone think.

"At least close the door, darling," he murmured, "it wouldn't do for one of our chaperones to come in search of a midnight snack only to discover this," his eyes lowered to his lap before flicking back up to her face, the shadow of a mischievous grin pulling at his lips - but she hardly noticed, for her mutinous gaze had also descended and now remained firmly locked on his arousal. Without even trying to look away from him, she blindly groped behind her for the door handle, pushing at the wood until it gave a resounding click.

She heard his sharp intake of breath but his face remained composed, the contrast setting her nerves alight, "now. Won't you join me?" He patted the space next to him on the sofa, flashing her a smile she couldn't resist, but he must've sensed her hesitation for he immediately sought to put her mind at ease.

"Think of it like this, my darling," he purred, "We're simply bringing our next tutorial forward by a few days. Remember what I said - there is no shame between us. You still want to learn don't you?"

She nodded wordlessly, her heart kicking against her rib cage.

"Good," he gave one of his slow and dangerous smiles, his tone thick with desire, "What would you like tonight's topic to be?"

"I... I don't know," she managed to stammer. But she did know. She'd known ever since their second tutorial all those weeks ago, when he'd said something so shocking and so arousing that she'd barely been able to breathe.

"I don't know if you know this Maria, but the best time to taste a woman is when she is at the heights of arousal. There is nothing quite like it."

He'd only ever eluded to what men and women might do to each other with their mouths, and so she was unsure of what his stirring words had truly meant. And she'd been desperate to ask him about it ever since, though she'd never worked up the nerve. The truth was, the very thought of his tongue upon her was enough to make her head spin.

"I think you do know Maria," he goaded dangerously, making her squirm with anticipation, "and I want to hear you ask for it. You asked, no - you begged for my fingers inside you just the other morning, did you not? You felt no shame in asking then. And you can ask for what you want again now."

Oh God, why had she done that?! Why had she gone and begged him last time? She had always been far too outspoken, it was one of her worst faults. And it was true that in their last tutorial he had awoken something wild and free and untamed within her - something that had allowed her to assign words to what she'd desperately needed from him. Only now, she found herself utterly tongue tied once again by his imposing manner and salacious commands. Normally, she would've had an entire week to prepare for their next encounter, whereas now she was caught entirely off guard by those sparkling blue eyes and the sight of his unabashed arousal.

"Maria.." came the impatient and assertive rumble of his voice, "I'm not going to give it to you, unless you ask for it."

"Alright! Alright.." she bleated, looking heavenward in her distress, feeling as though she might melt into the floor in a heap of embarrassment and longing. Nonetheless, she took a deep shuddering breath, "you... you once mentioned about.. tasting a woman.. and I was just curious - you know.." she trailed off hopelessly, her entire face on fire.

"About...?" He coaxed, a playful gleam in his eye - and she knew the scoundrel wasn't going to give up until she'd explicitly verbalised everything he wanted to hear.

"About.. about what exactly you meant by that.." she tried to sound unaffected but she knew her shaky voice gave her away. There was a long and intense pause for a moment as his eyes roamed over her body again, his arousal shifting almost imperceptibly in his lap. But she noticed. By God did she notice.

"And you came all the way down here at 2am just to ask me that?" He teased mercilessly, "how very impatient of you darling."

"Well I couldn't sleep either," she replied defensively, "you're not the only one who needed to clear their head you know."

"Well, since you're here now-" he offered with a wink, "I could tell you the answer to your question. Or," he grinned dangerously, "I could show you."

She could only moan helplessly by way of response.

"But in order to show you sweetheart, you're going to have to come and join me over here," he extended his hand to her, "please. I don't bite."

Still she remained where she stood, fidgeting from foot to foot and wringing her hands in front of her. His body was beginning to grow almost unbearably frustrated, knowing she was within reach but not yet being able to touch her. Still, he didn't want to scare her away. She was still relatively new to this after all.

"Can.. can you tell me first?" She asked, "And then.." she trailed off hopelessly. How could she possibly explain to him what she really wanted - to hear him describe in shocking detail exactly what he was going to do to her before he did it. It seemed he wasn't the only one who was stimulated by semantics.

He eyed her curiously for a moment, as though he could read every single thought flitting through her mind.

"Very well," he conceded, settling back against the cushions again, making no effort to hide his arousal from her, "when I mentioned tasting you, Maria, I meant that I would bring you to orgasm using my tongue. Just as I touched you with my fingertips last time, this time I want to lick and kiss you there until you come apart for me."

Her breath caught in her throat, the dangerous rush of heat starting low and pulsing throughout her entire body at his confession.

"I could explain in great detail how I'd like to run my mouth over every inch of your womanhood, but the truth is, I'm an impatient man. And I have no trouble telling you what it is I want," all mischief suddenly left his face and his eyes were pools of black desire, "And what I want, Maria, is to taste your arousal. I want it very badly. And I want it now."

His words was setting every inch of her on fire.

"But it isn't just about what I want, darling," he rasped, clearly deeply affected by his own words as the evidence of his thoughts strained hard against his abdomen, "it's also about what you want. But if-"

"I do want it!" she blurted suddenly, barely able to contain herself, "I want it as badly as you do!"

He looked beyond relieved, "then for God sake," he fairly begged, all pretences dropped, "come here!"

She flew to him instantly, and that was all it took for them to lose all control, to suddenly close the short distance between them and throw themselves into each other's arms, the opportunity for uninterrupted intimacy far too delicious to ignore. She knew their tutorials were meant to be slow and educational, easing her into intimacies that she was only just beginning to understand. But this time it was different - this time, they'd already experienced the other's touch and their actions were being driven solely by frantic need.

Somewhere amidst the chaos of her thundering heartbeat and their ferocious mouths crashing together, she felt his solid arms lift her from the ground and guide her legs around his waist. She thought he might settle her down on the sofa, where they'd first become intimate - but instead he carried her to his desk and set her atop the mahogany surface almost roughly, the dull thud of their bodies meeting the wood apparently not enough to bring them back to their senses.

He was ravenous, ragged, desperate as he pressed every inch of himself against her, licking at her mouth, tasting the rapid pulse at the base of her throat, groping possessively at her breasts and the urgency in his blackened eyes left her almost unbearably aroused. Within seconds he was frantically hoisting her nightgown up around her waist and sinking to his knees, sidling between her thighs as he draped her calves over his shoulders.

A brief moment of panic..

"Georg.." she whimpered suddenly, trying her hardest to think straight, "wait.. I-"

But all fear was immediately eradicated and the words robbed from her throat by the sudden brush of his jaw against her thigh and the sensation of his hot breath between her legs - his mouth unbearably close to the most sensitive part of her body.

"What is it darling?" He rasped, hovering mere centimetres from where she needed him most.

"please... ," was all she could manage, her head thrown back and her eyes squeezed tight shut, "...please."

And with that she bit down on her fist to stifle a loud cry as she felt the unbearable wet heat of his tongue sliding along her opening. She heard his deep moan of appreciation, felt the vibration of his hum all the way inside her, turning her blood to liquid fire.

"God help me," he shuddered, his voice muffled against her, "you taste phenomenal." And just when she thought the pleasure couldn't get any more intense, he blazed a fiery trail upwards until his open mouth massaged a tender place made of pure molten. His name tore from her lips instantly and she anchored her fingers in his hair, the firm but gentle tongue making her writhe in desperation.

His ministrations began gently, languidly, lovingly, but soon became more insistent and, instead of shrinking away from the blinding intensity, she found that she was opening herself to his beautiful mouth, frantic for more of him. His lips and tongue moved against her mercilessly, eliciting cries that she didn't know she was capable of as she arched into his attentions. And as the antagonising tension began to climb from the very place he was worshipping her and spread throughout the rest of her body, she noticed briefly that Georg seemed to have let go entirely, acting only on primitive need. Where before, he had perhaps hung back, weary of scaring her away - now he did no such thing, anchoring her firmly in place by her thighs and lapping at her centre with an almost possessive urgency.

Before long she was lying back helplessly against the cool mahogany, her back arching from the strain, no longer able to stay upright. And she found herself suddenly begging for the relief, pleading in strangled whispers for him to take the rhythm higher, her fingers twining into his hair and pulling him closer. It seemed she had absolutely no qualms about pleading for what she wanted now.

She mewled in frustration as he prolonged her blissful suffering. And it felt as though the tension would never break, that he would keep her suspended helplessly in time and space forever - until finally she felt her entire body convulse, the insistent flick of his tongue sending her spiralling into the depths of sweet, painful euphoria. As her body wracked beneath him, she felt him press his face more firmly between her legs, absorbing himself in every shudder of her release.

And then there was nothing but a blissful inner peace. Limp and panting, she remained sprawled on the desk for long minutes, vaguely aware of his gentle kisses along her inner thighs.

"Are you alright, love?" He eventually asked, his baritone voice thick with want.

She took a shuddering breath and managed a dreamy "yes" before she felt him return to a standing position, taking hold of her wrists and gently pulling her up until she was sitting once again. She still felt light as a feather and gripped his shoulders for support, slumping gratefully into his warm embrace. Though she was still learning, she was at least experienced enough by now to know that he would be almost frantic for his own release. And sure enough, she could feel the evidence against her thigh, dangerously close to where he had been tasting her only moments ago.

"Is... is it your turn?" She whispered shakily, unsure of what to do.

"I need release, yes," he rasped honestly, his entire body rigid, "but as for what we just did - you deserve to have me teach you properly, with guidance and patience, before you do the same for me. And I fear I won't be able to give you that right now," he looked quite distressed actually, "but I do need your hands on me. Quite desperately... but only if you-"

His words dissolved into a strangled moan when she dared to move a bold hand between their bodies and take him gently in her palm. He was better than she remembered - hot and hard, smooth as satin under her fingers, and she was stirred deeply by the violent shudder that rippled through his body at her touch.

"Like this?" She asked uncertainly, gripping him firmly and smoothing upward, mimicking the strokes he had taught her in their last lesson. But he could barely form a reply - in fact he could do little more than grip at the desk either side of her thighs, his nails biting into the wood as his legs threatened to buckle beneath him.

"I can't..." he pleaded, his face a picture of tortured ecstasy, ".. sofa...please," and before she knew it he was scooping her into his arms and collapsing into a sitting position against the plush cushions, cradling her in his lap as his swollen mouth found hers. But it wasn't enough - she wanted to feel the heat of him in her hand again. Feeling emboldened and a little impatient, she shifted off his lap and let her fist find him once more, swallowing her captain's deep groan of approval as he kissed her.

It wasn't long before his chest was heaving, his hands moving over her mercilessly, panting into her mouth as his entire body shook. When the exertion became too much for him, he broke their kiss with a growl and threw his head back against the sofa, his eyes squeezed tight shut and his entire body rigid with need, the muscles pulled taught across his torso. She was utterly mesmerised, watching as the starched aristocrat dissolved away to reveal the hot blooded man beneath. She was certain it was the most thrilling thing she'd ever experienced and she felt her inhibitions slowly melting at the sight of him.

Driven by a surge of bravery she hardly dared to acknowledge, and wanting desperately to give to him in equal measure, she dared herself to bend her head and tentatively took him into her mouth. The desperate cry that followed from him could only be described as primal, and on a protective instinct he tried to shift away from her, away from sensations too overwhelming to bare. But his stubborn little Fraulein stood firm, the wet tug of her gentle mouth threatening to unhinge him.

"Maria.." he choked in warning, knowing she wouldn't quite be ready for him to finish this way, but realising in a panic that he might not have much choice in the matter. He was dangerously close to losing all control. But despite his plea, she continued mercilessly and he was helpless under the ministrations of that delectable mouth as his orgasm gathered like white hot flames deep in his loins. And then, quite without warning, the blinding pleasure erupted like a fireball inside him, before streaking upwards and-

"Oh God Maria, stop!"

She obeyed his strangled command and pulled away in confusion, just in time to watch him come apart in front of her, his entire body wracking with desperate spasms and his face contorted in ecstasy as he shuddered through the violent relief. And then, finally, he fell limp against her and there wasn't a single sound, save for the gentle ticking of the clock in the corner and their shallow breathing as they clung to each other in mutual bliss.

"Two weeks..." he murmured wistfully after long minutes had passed, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, "two weeks and you'll be my wife. Finally."

His words filled her with such a sudden and fierce rush of adoration that it made her breath catch and her heart swell unexpectedly. How blessed she was to have discovered a harbour in this man. This beautiful, brave, stoic, complex human being who chose to bare his soul to her when few others had ever seen it. This stirring individual who had just trusted her enough to come apart in her arms. And it was the knowledge that he had committed his life to her, the realisation that only she would ever see him in such an intimate light, the understanding that he would forever be hers, that finally sent her drifting into a warm and undisturbed slumber against his chest.

A/N: again it might've been a bit too much but I think I'm far past the point of propriety! let me know your thoughts and what you think their last tutorial should be before the weddding night!