a/n thank you kouw! and mrpoohminnie! and klswhite! Thank you all for the reviews, follows, favorites, likes, and reblogs! please do leave a review if you have a moment. You all are the best. MWAH.

NSFW...and naughty words!

This is Mr Carson's POV of the same scene as 34. ...kind of.

She rarely declined an evening sherry with him, but today he had been too close, his voice and his scent too… present. So she excused herself, claiming fatigue from the journey.

Her door locked, she rushed to the bed, hitched up her skirts and did away with her knickers. She curled as much as her corset allowed and pushed herself with both hands to a rapid climax. And another.

He was both disappointed and relieved that she'd gone up early.

After finishing his scotch - in a proper glass - he sat in bed and took himself in his hand, letting their conversation repeat in his mind.

"And this is a fun day as a thank you, is it?"

Her sarcasm was not lost on him. He was not angry - far from it. He wanted her even more when she was like this.

He couldn't bear to hold the page at the same time as she did.

"Very... generous indeed."

He imagined the intricacies of her mouth.

Her teeth resting on her lips for the v.

Mysterious positions of the tongue to roll an r and produce a d that sounded like a t.

He would have liked to close the door and slam her up against it.

He would have kissed her lips, her neck - driving his fingers into her hair, undoing her dress until he couldn't stand it anymore and ripped it open, buttons flying. He would have licked the swell of her breast above her corset and run his hands down her body to pull her closer, pushing himself against her.

She might have torn his clothes off. She might have hiked up her dress and wrapped her legs around him as he thrust inside her against the door. She might have breathed indecent words in that brogue that tangled his mind.

She might have even made those sounds that the showmen used to brag about, unhinged and moaning-

But for once he was in no hurry, so he slowed down to make it last.

A different fantasy took over.

Her, closing the door, kissing him hard, pushing him backward into his chair. Climbing him, opening his trousers and sliding down onto him. Holding the back of the chair as she rose and fell.

Her corset (somehow, magically) open, he would have taken one breast into his mouth and sucked the nipple while caressing the other. He would have pulled the pins from her hair and grabbed handfuls of it, hauled her face down, kissing her hard as she slid up and down, with his - yes, yes, his cock - up and down - she was riding him, and he was inside her - yes - in her - her - in her cunt, spilling-

The dimly-lit room was silent but for his ragged breath. He came undone to wanton images and sudden, shocking words.

Afterward, he was not sure how he felt. His shame had begun to seem rather out of place: he loved her.

But those words.

One image from reality lingered: the rise and fall of her chest as they'd stood together.

She had been breathing fast.

A trace of hope began to wander through his thoughts as he fell asleep.