A/N: This chapter didn't seem to want to end. To be completely honest I'm running out of new ways to describe passionate scenes! So I hope you still enjoy it!

"My heart, my soul.." she rasped, covering his strong hand with her own upon her breast, "my body. They are yours, Captain."

Arousal scorched like lightning through Georg's veins. True enough, he'd lusted after his children's governess far too frequently over the summer, had developed feelings for her that he'd known were forbidden and entirely too dangerous. He'd begun to crave that ingenuous, unguarded look she'd often cast his way back then, in those moments when they'd found themselves gazing at one another and becoming undeniably short of breath. That open look of adoration and fascination, and yes - sometimes of desire - that he'd often seen plainly in her eyes before she would blush profusely and hastily shift her gaze to the floor.

And he could hardly forget all those times he'd sought her out for no reason, eager to hear whatever outrageously unexpected thing she might blurt out next. Or whenever he'd simply allowed himself the small transgression of watching her from afar with the children, only for her to follow him into his dreams later on, his brood suddenly nowhere to be seen. And of course, he was still plagued by the memory of early mornings, when he would wake up in a lustful sweat, riddled with unfulfilled desire.

Yes, he'd wanted his children's governess with an intensity that had shocked him over the summer months, not just physically but emotionally as well. But admitting such a thing to himself did absolutely nothing to prepare him for the devastating effect of her present confession on his mind and body. She was no longer the governess of course - he knew that well enough for goodness sake, even with the little game they were playing. But with those thrilling words escaping her lips, her lithe form pressed against the entire length of him, his body hardly knew the difference.

The air seemed to crackle with the unspoken knowledge of it - the knowledge that such a moment could very well have happened between them in the past, had things turned out differently. It was a very dangerous thing, he knew - when the lines of fantasy blurred with reality. And before he could stop them, the words were tumbling from his lips in a strangled whisper.

"I love you."

Such simple words. Words that he'd said to her before - multiple times in fact. And yet they seemed to take on a whole new meaning when uttered in this alternative universe they'd created. A world in which they were captain and governess.

"I love you too, my captain."

"When?" He rasped hoarsely, the single word seeming to be the only thing he could manage.

"When what?"

"When did you first feel it..."

She didn't hesitate, not for a second, though her voice was barely above a whisper.

"When the ballroom doors slammed open. And you looked nothing like a sea captain."

He shuddered involuntarily. He hadn't expected that to be her answer at all. In fact he'd rather assumed it was later down the line, perhaps during his rendition of Edelweiss, that she'd been confronted with new and frightening feelings. The fact that she'd felt the first flickers of desire even as early as their first meeting - though of course she wouldn't have understood it back then - was particularly stimulating.

And suddenly he wanted nothing more than to spin her around on the spot and take her into his arms, to strip the dress from her body and ravish her the way he'd longed to all those months ago, and every single day since. But he resisted temptation, willing himself to instead find satisfaction only in her intoxicating proximity. There was more fun yet to be had with this little fantasy of theirs before he lost himself entirely.

"In fact.. " she surprised him by forging bravely on, and though he couldn't see her face he knew her cheeks were flushing crimson as he once again pressed the ghost of a kiss to the back of her neck, "as time went on, I sometimes found myself too.. too stimulated by you to sleep."

Quite without warning, his breath caught in his throat and his pulse began thundering beneath his skin at the implication behind her words. Was she about to tell him what he thought she was about to tell him?

"You didn't...?" He held his breath in disbelief, impatiently awaiting her answer.

"Just once," she bleated, mortified but undeniably aroused all the same as the confession came tumbling out of her, "But I didn't understand it, not properly. All I knew was that I needed relief. And then..."

His voice was a strangled command, "And then?"

"Once I started captain, I.. I couldn't stop."

He groaned openly then, unable to prevent the sound as an image of his governess, twisted and panting amongst her sheets, flitted across his minds eye. He'd since watched her explore such things in the privacy of their marriage bed, of course. But there was something in particular about the thought of an inexperienced and frustrated fraulein - restless and stimulated, seeking relief under his roof in the dead of night because of the feelings that'd been stirring between them - that left his head positively spinning.

"And how did it feel?" He rasped, inhaling her scent deeply where neck met shoulder, one hand caressing more firmly at her waist while the other remained pressed against her heart.

By now her eyes had fluttered closed and her head lulled back against his shoulder as she gave in to the whirlwind of sensations he was evoking. Any mortification she might've felt in revealing her secret was hardly enough to make her stop. And in any event, the captain seemed utterly enraptured by her confession.

"It felt like fire," she breathed, and sure enough she could feel the evidence of his reaction hard as marble behind her.

"Where?" He croaked, his voice hoarse with longing as he subconsciously pressed his hips more firmly against her. She could only whimper by way of response, but where words failed her, instincts apparently took over.

Excruciatingly slowly, she guided his hand away from her heart and down over her breast, his blood firing when he grazed a pebbled nipple beneath the floating material. But she didn't stop there, leading his hand lower with her dainty one, over her ribs, down across her stomach, descending further, stroking lower still - until she was pressing his palm against the place where she scorched most for his touch.

"Here," she bleated, her eyes squeezed tight shut in shame and arousal - and Georg was hit with a surge of desire so strong that he had to steady himself lest his legs decided to fail him. Breathing hard, he took a moment to will his body to calm down.

"Oh Maria," he shuddered, caressing her name as though he really was saying it for the first time.

When he flexed his fingers gently, the exquisite pleasure bloomed across Maria's body and she found herself melting, shuddering against him with a gasp. Instantly she clutched at his forearm to steady herself, and he knew then that she would've responded just as ardently had this really been their first encounter.

"And what did you think about?" he purred, his voice a rough plea in her ear as he cupped her warmth, the material of her dress bunching under his strong palm, "what did you think about when you touched yourself here? My hands upon your body?"

She hesitated for only a moment before shaking her head, and he felt a slight twinge of disappointment - only to change his mind rather abruptly when he heard her next words.

"Not your hands," she corrected him, "Your... your mouth."

For the first time in his adult life, words failed Georg, a surge of painfully hot desire firing rapidly south. And he'd barely had a chance to choke on a strangled breath before she was breaking out of his embrace and spinning around to face him on the spot. Their eyes clashed for a heart-stopping moment then, hers blown wide with a need he'd never seen there before.

"That mouth, captain..." she rasped, as though mesmerised, her gaze shifting undeniably to his lips, "I... I just wanted it so badly."

He couldn't speak, he couldn't breathe, he could hardly think as her words echoed alongside the blood pounding in his ears. He must've looked quite the fool, he considered - stood there gawping at her, heart thundering and body aching with unfulfilled need - but he was simply too overcome by her words to move. It appeared however, that she was brave enough for the both of them - for she chose that moment to take a daring step closer and press her mouth ever so gently to the scar below his lip.

He froze instantly. It was only the lightest, most chaste of touches - and yet somehow it was one of the most erotic encounters he'd ever experienced - his governess touching his mouth with her own. He shuddered violently, visions of his own lips pressed to undiscovered places on her body flashing through his mind. And before he could make sense of what was happening, before he could gather a single coherent thought, he was pulling her into his arms with a hoarse groan of longing, capturing her mouth in a furious embrace.

The sensations were coming at him faster than he could make sense of them. Every excruciating inch of her supple body was pressed firmly against him, her thighs entangled with his own in a way that left him almost painfully aroused. Her hands were clutching fistfuls of his shirt as she clung to him, her tongue dancing with his own, making him lose all sense of time and place.

This was the ferocious Fraulein he knew and loved, the one who shouted at naval captains by the lakeside and slid down banisters in aristocratic homes and let her soul shine through her guileless eyes. His heart soared, his mind and body seeking relief from the desperate longing that he'd endured back then, at a time when he'd been forced to keep a safe distance. And suddenly none of it was enough. It was no longer just a game to him. He needed to feel her skin beneath his fingertips.

"You want my mouth?" he growled in between feverish kisses, "you can have it. You can have anything you want from me Fraulein, anything. But," he nipped at her lower lip, "I want to hear you ask for it."

"Please, captain.." was all she could manage on a broken whimper, "...please."

"Please what?" He commanded lowly, the authoritative shift in his tone setting her aflame. She flushed immediately with shame and excitement but she couldn't bring herself to voice the words aloud.

"You won't say it?" He pressed disapprovingly, his eyes black with desire, "then I'll say it for the both of us. I have no trouble telling you what it is that I want," his fingers began to dance slowly down the row of buttons along her spine, invading the material and grazing the bare skin of her back, "I'm a very impatient man. And what I want, Maria - what I've wanted for so long now - is to taste your arousal. I want it very badly. And I want it now."

Before she had a chance to reply, he'd stripped the dress from her body and was lifting her off the ground, guiding her legs around his waist and kissing her hungrily until he'd carried her to the nearby vanity. In his near frantic state, he set her atop the mahogany surface almost roughly, both of them heedless of the few belongings that toppled to the floor in his bid to remove the rest of her clothing.

Within moments, she was stark naked before him, feeling all the more exposed given his formal state of dress. He seemed in no hurry to get out of his own clothes though, instead sinking to his knees, sidling between her thighs and draping her calves over his shoulders with strong hands. She held her breath in anticipation of the blinding pleasure she knew was coming, but much to her astonishment, nothing happened. Almost ravenous with need she looked down at him with incredulous dismay - only to discover the unbearable sight of his parted mouth mere millimetres from where she needed him most, his obsidian eyes staring up at her face with silent authority.

"Ask for it, Maria," he commanded, his breath hot against her body.

This time she didn't even hesitate as her eyes rolled back in her head, "Make me come apart with your tongue," she crowed without an ounce of shame, "please captain!"

He didn't need to be asked twice. The strangled plea was barely out of her mouth before he descended upon her, the wet heat of his tongue coaxing sensations from her that surely would've frightened the life out of her a few months ago. Despite that though, his mouth moved over her gently, tenderly, languidly - and she realised then that he was making love to the innocent Fraulein she'd once been, rather than the woman she'd since become.

And as far as Maria was concerned, any sense of reality disappeared entirely after that first touch. This was no Parisian honeymoon suite, but the captain's study back in Aigen - it was no vanity table she was perched on, but the captain's mahogany writing desk. The whole vision would've been sublimely beautiful, hopelessly romantic even - had it not been for the fact that she was utterly desperate for more of him. And she found herself mewling in helpless frustration, burying her hands in his hair in the hopes that he'd take the rhythm higher and relieve her suffering.

She felt the hum of his satisfied groan all the way inside her, "I know my darling, I know," he murmured reassuringly between hot swipes of his tongue, his mouth glistening, "soon. But you taste too incredible for me to stop just yet."

His words were setting every inch of her on fire. And before long she was lying back helplessly against the wall behind her, her back arching from the strain, no longer able to stay upright. It seemed he was intent on making her suffer for as long as possible, until finally the antagonising tension began to climb from the very place he was worshipping her.

"Captain!" she choked, on the edge of indescribable bliss - but suddenly he wrenched away from her, and the pleasure was gone as quickly as it'd come. Beside herself with despair, she moaned in dismay - but he was already gathering her into his arms and rushing her to the nearby four-poster. She wondered briefly, through the static noise in her head, whether he would've taken her back to his own bed in Aigen, or whether it would've happened on the sofa.. or the rug in front of his fire place, or even in her old governess' bedroom. It hardly mattered now though, for he was already stripping out of his clothes, the layers of the captain peeling away to reveal the raw man underneath.

His body surely would've frightened her back then she realised, as she considered the way his straining arousal shifted almost imperceptibly at the sight of her splayed before him. But now - oh now all it did was thrill and excite her, and she held her arms out to him, hoping against hope that he found her-

"Breathtaking," he murmured, his black eyes roaming down the length of her body, "utterly breathtaking," and then he was joining her on the bed, sidling between her thighs as though she was made of priceless porcelain.

Georg's pulse thundering through his veins and his eyes never leaving hers, he slowly eased himself inside her body, shuddering violently at the dangerous sensation of tight, molten heat. Still, he willed himself to remain in control. He was barely a few inches inside her and yet she was still gasping in his arms and throwing her head back against the pillows, writhing for more of the much-needed friction. But still he wouldn't concede to her wordless pleading.

Instead he started caressing her body, feather soft touches along her collarbone, open-mouthed kisses against her nipples that threatened to consume her - and then there was the fiery trail of his fingertips down her abdomen until they moved lower still, finally grazing a place of liquid fire. There he remained, taunting her with languid, barely-there touches - all the while refusing to enter her any further, until she was almost faint with the unbearable tension once again.

She whimpered in sweet agony as he again suspended her in time and space, and she wondered fleetingly why on earth he wouldn't just give in and join them fully - but she could barely form the words to ask him, and so she lay back helplessly, clinging to him for dear life as the pleasure began to build with alarming intensity. Shaking from the strain, and exercising a world of restraint, Georg drew his hips back and eased the scant few inches back into her again, capturing her cries of frustration with his mouth. When her hips rose slightly off the bed to meet his, he felt her gasp against his mouth, but his hips retreated almost immediately, denying her the friction she craved.

"Patience, my darling," he repeated in her ear, his voice thick in his throat, "look at me."

She merely tossed her head from side to side, her face contorted in anguished need.

"Look at me, Maria."

Her eyes flew open and he watched, awestruck as she fought and writhed for her body's desires - and despite his desperate need to fill her entirely, he staved off his own urges - loving her the way he would've done had she still been his young governess. He allowed himself a few more slow, shallow thrusts against her, and she kept trying to rise to meet him with every penetration, to sheath him entirely, but like a merciless cad he fell back just enough to deny her. It took all the willpower he possessed to hold himself steady, to prevent himself from driving into her fully and giving her what they both needed. But he forced himself to be patient, to wait until her body was wracked with such intense pleasure that she could hardly bear it.

And then - finally - her breathing grew desperately ragged, her fingernails clawed at his back, her eyes rolled back in her head, and suddenly she was crying out in twisted ecstasy as he felt a flood of warmth bathing the very tip of him.

Now.

He gathered her frantically into his arms and sank into her with one ardent thrust, burying himself as deep as he could possibly go and groaning her name in sweet relief. Almost instantly he could feel the heat of her body contracting and tightening around him as she rode out her release, and the sensation was so intense that for a panic-stricken moment he thought he might spill into her then and there. But much to his relief, the danger passed and he held himself still, breathing hard, intent for now on bringing her to the heights of rapture.

"God, how I've needed you," he rasped against her mouth as his hips began a languid rhythm against her - and she knew from the intensity of his gaze that he was speaking the words not as her husband, but as the stoic, complex, devastating man he'd been back then - the man who'd held her spellbound all summer.

She watched the raw love playing out across his face as he lay himself bare to her in those surreal moments and she revelled in such overwhelming intimacy with another human being. Over the last few months, she'd come to know the man behind the aristocratic mask - and yet it wasn't until this very moment that she felt she was seeing him in his rawest, most vulnerable form for the very first time. It occurred to her briefly, as she arched into his movements, that she would've had no regrets in giving herself fully to him like this. Because above all else, they were meant to be together - against all the odds, whatever the cost.

The captain and the governess.

And that was her last coherent thought before his languid movements eventually gave way to a frantic urgency, a chaotic storm of sensation and passion that knocked the breath out of her. She'd belonged to him from the very beginning, she knew - and oh how she felt it now, pressed as close to her lover as two people could be, eye to eye and toe to toe. Crying out, she held on to him for dear life, trusting him to the ends of the earth and back - until, finally, with a desperate shout, he sailed them both over the edge into a blinding white light of euphoria.

The world ceased to exist for a long while after that, the only sound the erratic patterns of their uneven breathing - and it wasn't until some time later, when they were laying in each other arms, that Maria finally broke the contented silence.

"Georg?"

"Hmm?"

"What did you do.." she murmured, running her hand along his forearm, "after I fled?"

He didn't need to ask for clarity - it was obvious to both of them from the solemnity in her eyes that she was talking about her absence from the Von Trapp villa that fateful night.

"Well, to tell you the truth.. " he shifted his eyes uncomfortably to the bedspread, suddenly embarrassed, "I uh.. I cried a little."

"You what?!" She exclaimed, completely flabbergasted.

"It's true.." he shrugged sheepishly, "In the days after you left I felt utterly lost, trapped, confused. In my state of panic I proposed to Elsa, but never had I felt so completely alone. And I missed you - though I was still far too stubborn to believe it. I'd bottled everything up for so long, you see - it was bound to come out eventually," he gave a wistful laugh then, "And sure enough, when it was clear you really weren't coming back, I got mind-numbingly drunk in the privacy of my study and finally allowed myself to let go."

Maria was left entirely speechless. This fine and brave man had shed tears over her departure? And all the while she'd been too wrapped up in her own grief back in her postulant's cell at Nonnberg to consider that she might've left broken hearts behind. She knew of course that the children would've suffered in her absence, but she just couldn't fathom how someone like him could possibly mourn the loss of her too, and so vehemently.

"Frau Schmidt found me, from what I remember," Georg confessed with a chuckle, rubbing his ear bashfully, "I must've made for a sorry sight indeed! Slumped on the sofa, bottle in hand, snivelling like a child. Nevertheless, she asked no questions and patched me up, bless her soul. It wasn't until the morning, when I woke up in the governess' bedroom of all places, that I remembered snippets of the night before."

"The governess' bedroom?" Maria asked quietly, still awestruck by his tale.

"Yes I uh.. well I think Frau Schmidt was trying to get me to my own quarters, but she got me as far as your old room before I completely refused to walk another step," he admitted self-deprecatingly, "apparently in my whiskey-addled mind, it was to be your bed that night or no bed at all. Lord only knows what the poor old dear must've thought of me! But I assume she gave up the fight in the end, because that's exactly where I ended up."

His eyes met hers then, and words failed her in response to the vulnerability she discovered in his gaze.

"It still smelled of you, you know," he swallowed, "I couldn't bring myself to leave when I woke up. So I stayed a while... I think that's when I finally knew."

Long seconds passed while Maria let his words sink in. She couldn't help but feel incredibly moved and utterly astonished by his revelation. It seemed she wasn't the only one who'd pined and grieved upon her flight from 53 Aigen - and the knowledge filled her with such raw, sublime affection that she could respond only by flinging her arms around his neck with a little sob.

"Ohho now," he chuckled in surprise, taking her into his embrace, "what's this for?"

She didn't have to think about her answer.

"I love you, my captain."

A/N: I'm going to leave this story here for a while as it doesn't really have much of a plot anymore. I think I'm going to keep it as a work in progress and just update it as and when new inspiration comes to mind. That being said, if anyone wants to make any specific requests on what else you'd like me to write about in this story, I'll happily take requests! Until then, I hope you liked it.