Obligatory disclaimer: The Mouse owns all, save for my own original characters.

"I… I can feed myself," Claire stammered, not at all sure of what was going on. But if it involved Cutler, Claire knew it would be something decadent… and highly inappropriate. Wanting nothing more than to rise and remount her horse, fleeing from Cutler and his intoxicating offers, Claire forced herself to fight the rising panic she felt and stay seated on the blanket. It had to just be an act of kindness… and nothing more.

Or did it?

"Ah, but of course you can. However, I would take such great pleasure in helping you with that particular task," Cutler purred.

The husky tone of his voice skated across Claire's skin whispering heady dark promises. The emphasis he put on the word pleasure made shivers dance across along her spine. Instead of rubbing her arms to erase the goosebumps peppering her skin, Claire broke eye contact and began to worry the stitching of her jacket cuffs.

"If… I…" Claire knew not how to respond and hated herself for stammering. She was perfectly capable of feeding herself, but the thought of what Cutler had in mind was so intriguing – and exhilarating. She tried again. "I think I would like that." There. That was a better attempt. Her voice sounded clearer. Claire even made eye contact.

Cutler smiled, his satisfaction pouring off his body in waves. With a lift of his brow and a teasing smile, he reduced Claire to feeling like a small child. She was no good at dancing these steps and yet… And yet you are unwilling to step off the dance floor.

"Come, let us get more comfortable. No sense in trying to enjoy ourselves when we are so uncomfortably restrained." With practiced fingers, Cutler removed his coat and carefully folded it, setting it aside. Claire was afraid that he would undress further, but was grateful that he folded his hands in his lap, an expectant look painting his features.

Finally realizing that Cutler was waiting for her to remove her jacket also, Claire slowly unfastened the buttons marching down the front of her riding outfit, then shrugged off the garment. She then removed her riding hat, and ran her fingers through her mussed hair in an attempt to smooth it into place. Mimicking Cutler's actions, she set aside her jacket and waited for Cutler to react.

Taking a moment to appraise Claire, Cutler was pleased that he was able to coerce her into doing what he wished – without uttering a word. Her actions, done without verbal direction, gave Claire the false confidence that what she did was under free will… when in fact Cutler knew that Claire would have remained fully dressed even after he had removed his coat. It was all about the body language. It spoke volumes over anything he could have actually spoken.

Then there was the pleasure of watching Claire remove her jacket… As her torso twisted and turned, her breasts strained against the fabric of her blouse. Her skirt was high-waisted, emphasizing the narrowness of her figure, but also enhancing the curve of her bust. She was pleasing to look at, there was no disputing that. But coupled with her innocence, Claire was a marvel. Cutler could tell that she was desperately trying to keep up with him, but it was not her eagerness that he found endearing; rather it was her naïveté that made his heart race.

"Hungry?"

The way that he asked – the tone of his voice, the cadence of his speech – made Claire wonder if he was asking about the meal before them… or something else entirely.

Once the question hung in the air, Claire felt hunger pangs stab at her insides. She slowly nodded her head. But while her stomach was making its presence known with small rumblings, if Cutler wanted to resume the activities of last week, Claire was willing. However, Claire was afraid to say anything, figuring that food first, pleasure second. As her mother always said, never get between a man and his food.

Indeed, he picked up the food-laden plate and set it between them. Cutler paused a moment and then deliberately, methodically, ruminated over which morsel to choose. His lips were pursed, as if deep in thought, and his fingers hovered just above the victuals. Then, suddenly, he plucked a biscuit and broke it into bite-size pieces. His lips curved into a smirk as he leaned forward to present the morsel.

Claire giggled as Cutler held out a piece of bread between his fingers, who silently encouraged her to lean forward also and eat the food. When she took too long, he bestowed her with a withering look, causing Claire to quickly bob her lips over the bread and neatly removed it from his fingers, doing her best to keep her lips from touching his skin. A warm blush tinged her cheeks and Claire pressed her lips together in order to hide an embarrassed smile that threatened to appear.

Cutler immediately choose another item, this time a bit of dried meat, but as Claire advanced to take the food, so did Cutler's fingers – slightly. As her lips closed around the larder, Claire's eyes opened in surprise when she found Cutler's fingertips firmly entrenched just minutely inside her mouth.

Cutler's eyes half-closed in pleasure as Claire's tongue accidentally swept against his fingertips. Pleasure radiated down the length of his hands and arms, rumbling through his torso before landing at the juncture of his thighs. It took all of his will power not to growl aloud. It was even more arousing to have her accidentally lick his fingertips than if she had done it on purpose.

Knowing that he had to extract his fingers, for Claire would not move for fear of doing something wrong, Cutler ever so slowly released the meat and withdrew his digits in a leisurely manor, so as to fully enjoy the sensation of the movement. His eyelids fluttered as another appendage enjoyed the sensation also. Needing space between them lest he say or do something to jeopardize the tenuous control he had over his desire, Cutler leaned back, resting his weight on his elbows, not caring if his arousal was evident.

But an awkward moment arrived and it was soon obvious that Cutler expected to be fed, too. Claire was beside herself at the realization. Bugger, I have to feed him, too!

Claire picked up a small piece of meat and once Cutler pushed himself upright again, tentatively held a piece of meat before his lips. Cutler paused, holding his breath, making sure that Claire had committed to feeding him in return, before opening his mouth. Cutler knew he surprised her when he not only took the meat, but also her fingertips, inside his mouth. Locking gazes with Claire, he could tell that she was shocked, but also pleased. He could see her chest rise and fall as Claire gasped in fear… and excitement.

He knew that Claire would not remove her fingers under her own volition. It was just a matter of deciding whether he would open his mouth or drag his lips along the length of her tapered fingers.

Cutler opted for the latter.

Locking eyes with Claire, Cutler allowed his tongue to pry her fingers apart and deftly swallowed the bit of meat. The contraction of his throat reverberated into Cutler's mouth and the wave of motion sent chills down Claire's arm. Cutler added to the sensation by drawing his lips slowly, achingly so, across the sensitive skin of her fingertips, finally releasing them with an audible pop.

Trying not to pant in fear... in need... Claire blinked first, breaking eye contact and dropping her gaze to the blanket they sat upon. Why on earth did she think that there would be anything remotely innocent about their outing when she dressed that morning? A random thought drifted through her head that Cutler was rather like a cat… a worthy predator who wanted nothing but pleasure.

"Your turn… again."

Claire watched as Cutler plucked a strawberry from the plate and held it before her lips. Instead of letting Cutler slip the berry past her lips, she decided to bite it neatly from its stem. Biting into the berry, Claire maintained eye contact with Cutler the whole time. She could feel juice beading on her lower lip and her tongue darted out, gently lapping at the liquid. She saw Cutler swallow hard and wanted to smile. Claire was unsure of why she was causing a reaction in him, but saw the reaction nonetheless. She felt a surge of power go through her.

Suddenly a wicked smile curved her lips and Claire rolled forward, kneeling before Cutler, returning the favor. Holding a blackberry before Cutler, Claire smiled shyly as she brushed the berry against his lips. She then caressed the fruit along his jawline before dancing it along his cheekbones. Wishing that she had enough nerve to touch him with her fingertips rather than using the food, Claire was pleased that Cutler's eyes closed in apparent bliss.

But he did revel in the sensation for very long, as Cutler opened his eyes and grabbed her wrist. He would never tell her, but he had to stop her movements lest he pull the fruit from her fingers and suggest another place for him to touch. Instead, Cutler nipped at the food, watching the reactions on Claire's features before opening his mouth and closing it around her fingertips. He groaned in appreciation as he swallowed the bite.

A bit of juice collected in the corner of Cutler's mouth. Wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss away the bit of liquid, Claire instead picked up a napkin and dabbed at Cutler's mouth. A brow arched in amusement, but Cutler kept his peace. It was enough that Claire initiated physical contact between the two of them, even if it was not her lips against his skin. Patience. Soon.

"I would like a strawberry now, if you would."

Nodding her head, Claire's fingers skimmed over the plate, reaching blindly, until she found the type of fruit Cutler requested. For once, she wanted to look away and found she could not. Their lips were only inches apart, each breathing in the other person's breath, and yet neither leaned in to finish the kiss. Cutler was afraid that he would frighten Claire and Claire was concerned that Cutler would think her too bold.

So Claire opted for what she thought was the safest solution and held the strawberry before Cutler, her throat in constant motion as she repeatedly swallowed in anxiety. Now that she understood that food was replacing kisses in building tension, she was a bundle of nerves. Kissing was overwhelming, but this dance of seduction using food to act out their desires made Claire confused. But did nothing to dampen the desire.

A smile curved Cutler's lips for a moment before he opened his mouth and flicked the fruit gently with his tongue. His lips then encircled the fruit and he neatly bit it free from the stem. Claire did not understand why, but felt herself swallow hard as she watched him consume the berry with such relish.

In fact, Claire felt a heat radiating from between her legs that seemed to pulsate each time Cutler's fingertips danced across her lips and each time her fingers skimmed along his. She wanted to beg him to touch her elsewhere, but she found she lacked the ability to speak. Her skin was on fire with want… need. She could feel her nipples tighten and press against her corset. So this is what he had in mind.

"I think it is time for me to pack this all up." He then turned away from Claire, his shoulder brushing against her chest, and began to gather up their dirty plates. His ability to maintain any sort of control was rapidly evaporating and Cutler knew it would not do if either of them ended up reclining in any way with dishes and whatnot all around. So the remaining food was wrapped back up in their napkin coverings. Then all was efficiently packed back into the hamper. Taking a deep breath, Cutler then returned his attention towards Claire.

Claire had watched silently as blanket was cleared. She did not want to think that she did something wrong, for Claire thought she did everything Cutler asked. There was still more food to eat and wine to drink. So it had to be that he had another engagement later. "Is it… is it time to go?" There. Her voice sounded curious rather than concerned.

"On the contrary. I just want to make some more room." His voice brushed against her skin like fur. She was unable to hide the shudder that ran up and down her spine.

More room? Claire cocked her head and asked, "For what?"

"For this…" Cutler reached for Claire and she willingly went into his embrace, not even contemplating the repercussions for the combined effects of the feeding and the wine made Claire want nothing more to feel Cutler pressed against her body.

Cutler kissed her deeply, drowning in the taste of berries on Claire's lips. He opened his mouth and their tongues met, tangling in the moist darkness. His hand slid from Claire's lower back and crept forwards and upwards until he was cupping the gentle curve of her breast. Expecting protest but getting a mew of desire instead, Cutler allowed his thumb to gently caress her hardened nipple.

His other hand drew her even closer until she was nearly on his lap. His pants felt like they were tight to the point of bursting and Cutler wanted nothing more than to flip Claire on her back, her skirts hiked to her waist.

As they kissed, Cutler's hands roamed, eliciting squeals from Claire as he touched her breasts, lightly twisting her nipples through the fabric. Suddenly, Claire wanted to be rid of her clothes – she wanted Cutler out of his clothes – but knew not why. She gasped as he began to unbutton her blouse, the sun warming the exposed skin.

Her hands danced along the waistband of his pants, wanting nothing more than to remove the bottom of his shirt from the prison of his trousers and run her fingers through the hair covering his belly. The thought shocked Claire, who had no idea if Cutler had hair foresting his stomach and why she would want to touch it, but in a moment of passion, she balled the fabric in her hands and tugged the shirt free.

As soon as her cool fingers slipped under his shirt, he was done for. "I want you." Cutler growled, his fingers threading their way through Claire's tresses. Wanting nothing more than to grind his groin against Claire's, he half encouraged, half pushed her so that she was laying flat on her back.

Breaking the kiss, Claire looked at Cutler, braced above her, for several long moments. He instantly stilled, afraid that he had gone too far. Confusion then wrinkled her brow and she asked, "To do what?"