It turns out, that this is one of the longest chapters in the entire story, and somehow I wonder what that says about the author *cough cough*.

Warning: In case you had not figured it out - there will be smut.

Chapter 24

A knock on the door made Margaret jump slightly. "Come in", she called out, trying to sound braver than she felt, as she gathered every ounce of courage she could muster.

A second later, John stepped in. He carefully closed and locked the door behind him, before he turned around to face her.

For a moment, he just stood there, unmoving, stunned at the sight of her.

In her simple white nightgown, with her dark curls dangling down past her shoulders, she looked nothing short of a goddess, and he immediately felt a pang of desire course through him.

Margaret saw his eyes darken slightly, as he gazed at her, and quickly dropped her own to her lap, unable to look at him.

She heard him step closer and watched him out of the corner of her eye, as he removed first his coat, and then his waistcoat and tie, and placed everything on a nearby chair. Then she felt the mattress cave in, as he sat down beside her.

John immediately knew that she was terrified. He could sense it clearly from the way she held herself and avoided his gaze, and he felt a pang of concern.

He lifted his hand to her cheek in a gentle caress, making her look at him, his eyes pleading with her to not be afraid of him.

"Margaret, do you trust me?", he asked in a soft voice. She swallowed and then nodded truthfully. She did trust him. She had no reason not to. He was the kindest man she had ever known, and she loved him with all her heart.

"Do you know – you know – what we are about to do?", he asked carefully.

"I – have some idea", she confessed. "Can you tell me what exactly it is you know?", he inquired further, needing to find out what he had to prepare her for.

Margaret felt herself blush at his question. How was she to say those things out loud, when even the mere thought of them mortified her? But then she saw his gaze, softly pleading with her, and she knew that she could not let him down.

"I know that you will have to put – a part of yourself inside me", she murmured, her face a deep shade of crimson. He nodded slowly, his hand still caressing her cheek.

"This may hurt a little at first", he said slowly. "There might be a little bit of blood, but maybe not. It is just a matter of getting accustomed to it. It will become more comfortable once we have grown used to each other."

His words and the tone in his voice had a strangely calming effect on her. He understood her nervousness, she realized. He carefully took both her hands in his and this time it was easier for her to look into his face.

"There are a few things I need you to know beforehand", he said, and she nodded, indicating to him that she was listening.

"This act is something very intimate. We will undress and touch each other. Some of it might feel strange at first, and I need you to tell me if there is anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. Tell me to stop if it becomes too much, Margaret, please promise me. I will not do anything you do not consent to."

"I promise", she said softly.

He searched her face, trying to assess her feelings, and found her gazing at him attentively, if still a little nervous. "The other thing I need to tell you", he continued, "is that no rules of propriety will apply in this situation. We are rightfully married and nothing we do together is a sin. Whatever happens in this room, will stay between the two of us. There is no reason for shame or embarrassment. Some of the things we will feel might be overwhelming. But the less we try to think, and the more we try to just feel, the greater the chance that we will be able to enjoy it."

After he had ended, they sat in silence for a moment, as she tried to make sense of his words. Margaret felt a mix of jitters and curiosity. He had spoken as if the act they were about to perform could be enjoyable.

But then again, he was a man. Had not Mrs. Eldon said that men enjoyed it more than women? Margaret decided that, even if this only served his pleasure, she would be willing to accommodate him. She owed him as much after everything he had done for her.

"So, how do we start?", she asked him. He leaned closer, so close that his warm breath tingled against her skin, as his eyes dropped to her lips. "May I kiss you?", he whispered. She said no word, but leaned in, closing the distance between them.

The kiss was gentle and sweet, and it melted something inside her. His hands came up to cup her face as he deepened it, opening his mouth to hers a little more. When his tongue touched her bottom lip, a soft sigh escaped her, and for a moment she held her breath, embarrassed.

"Don't hold back", he murmured against her lips. "I like the sounds you make when I do that." He traced her bottom lip with his tongue once more and gently sucked it into his mouth, drawing another sigh from her as her hands tightened on his shoulders.

The same strange sensation washed over her, that she had felt once before, the first night he had kissed her in his office. It was as if her entire body was suddenly extremely sensitive, the tiny hairs on her skin standing up, as his hands slowly glided down her upper arms in a tender caress.

Then, he pressed his mouth against hers harder, gently nudging her backwards, and she followed his lead, lying down on her back on the bed, her mouth never leaving his. He leaned over her, pushing her into the mattress with his weight. Their bodies were now touching in various places and the feeling made Margaret's head spin.

Her hands tentatively wound their way up into his hair, enjoying the feeling of the dark curls sliding through her fingers, before gently pulling his head even closer to her. He moaned into her mouth and the sound seemed to ripple through her entire body.

They lay like this for some minutes, their bodies touching, as the silence around them was punctured by small gasps of pleasure. She found herself relaxing against him. She felt safe in his arms, and as he gave a small whimper, when she suckled at his upper lip, she felt a wave of tenderness towards him well up inside her. He was so gentle, so loving; what had she done to deserve such a man?

Then he pulled his lips from hers, and for a second, she felt bereft, until he started kissing the side of her neck a moment later. Margaret let out a gasp at the touch, her head rolling back slightly, giving him better access, as her hands clenched in his hair. She still felt uneasy letting him hear the unfamiliar sounds he drew from her, but was unable to hold them back.

He planted a hot trail of kisses down her neck to her collarbone, his hands stroking from her shoulders down the sides of her body, before coming to rest just below her breasts.

"Margaret", he breathed against her skin. "May I touch you there?" She could not find it in herself to utter a single word, feeling dizzy from the sensations he was evoking in her, so she just nodded, trying to catch her breath.

Carefully his right hand wandered from her side towards the middle of her body to cup her breast through her nightgown. Margaret's hands fisted around the bed linens, and her back arched instinctively to press herself into his touch.

What was happening to her? How had she suddenly become this wanton? She remembered his words from before. Nothing they did would leave this room, and there was no reason for propriety.

But what if he found her so wanton and was repulsed by it? His lips were back on hers and the thought vanished from her mind, as he stroked her tongue with his. When she tried shifting her weight slightly under him, her leg accidentally slipped between both of his and he tore his lips from hers instantly with a loud moan.

She looked up at him in shock, seeing an almost painful expression on his face. "D-did I hurt you?", she gasped in horror, placing her hand on his shoulder anxiously. He closed his eyes and shook his head, pulling back his hips to break the contact. "I am fine", he gasped. "It's just – too much. It feels – too good, Margaret. I need to control myself."

Slowly he moved back down on her and pressed his crotch against her thigh with a shuddering breath, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He slowly started grinding his hips against her thigh, the jolts of pleasure that shot through him at every move almost unbearable to him.

Margaret felt something hard brush against her through his trousers, in the very place between his legs, where Margaret herself felt a strange, throbbing ache, which seemed to increase with every touch between them. This was where they were to join eventually, she thought.

"Margaret", John breathed into her neck, his hand still on her breast. "Please – can I take off your nightgown? I – I need to see you."

Shame welled up inside her, and she had to swallow hard, her cheeks burning like fire. Yet, she nodded, following some dark desire within her that she could not name.

He carefully grasped the hem of her nightshirt and slowly started pulling it up. The cool air hit her skin, as he let the garment drop to the floor beside the bed. She was completely bare before him now, not daring to look down at herself, her embarrassment threatening to overwhelm her.

She saw his gaze glide over her, his eyes dark with his need for her, his mouth slightly open. "You are so beautiful", he breathed, before leaning down to kiss her once more.

Something about his gaze, his words, seemed to take away her discomfort, replacing it with another feeling. She sensed that looking at her without her clothes on did something strange to him. He desired her, she realized.

Something between her legs throbbed at the thought of it, and she felt her hips buck involuntarily. The movement made that place where she ached the most, press against his thigh, drawing a small moan from her lips.

She felt his warm hands slide down from her shoulders once more and then he touched her breasts, his breathing noticably laboured. He cupped her there, massaging her with his hands, kneading gently, then he traced his fingers over her nipples.

"John!", she gasped at the sensation, arching her back. He smiled and repeated the movement, making her moan once more. "Does that feel good?", he breathed against her cheek, taking her nipples between his fingers, squeezing lightly. "Oh!", was all she could reply, before biting her lip.

His lips moved from her face down her neck again, this time not stopping at her collar bone, but going even lower and then his tongue was on her right nipple and her fingers dug into his shoulders. He let his tongue circle her nipple before gently sucking it into his mouth. "John!", she sighed once more, having forgotten her embarrassment, unable to hold back.

He regarded her left nipple with the same attention, his hands sliding around her body to her back, lifting it slightly to bring her chest even closer to his mouth. "I love you Margaret", he whispered, as he buried his face in the valley between her breasts, his tongue darting out to leave a wet trail there.

Her hands moved around him, and she placed them on his back, almost shyly, feeling his warmth through the thin cotton of his shirt.

The pressure between her legs was almost painful now, her female organ feeling extremely warm and somehow, there was a strange wetness there, she could not explain.

He released her and sat back up and Margaret opened her eyes to make sure everything was alright, only to see him unbutton his shirt, exposing his naked chest. She stared at him, as he pulled the garment over his head and dropped it to the floor next to her nightgown, leaving him naked from the waist up.

Margaret had never seen a man in such a state of undress before, and she could not take her eyes off his strong upper arms and hard, muscular torso. His chest was covered in black hair. She had not known that men had hair on their chests. There were many things she had not known, she realized.

As he sat on the edge of the bed, to take off his shoes and socks, carelessly dropping them on the floor beside the bed, she once again noticed the burn scar on his left arm, which was turned towards her. It was bigger than she had thought, having only seen part of it when he had had his sleeves rolled up to his elbow. The scar started on his lower arm, went up across the inside of his elbow, and then ran along the outside of his upper arm to his triceps.

He turned his back to her, bending over for a moment and she saw something else. There were more scars, not burn scars, but ones that looked like cuts. Many of them, running in a criss-cross pattern all the way down his back. She needed to ask him about them sometime, Margaret thought to herself.

She did not have time to ponder it further, for he was back on top of her and his lips found hers again. She longed to touch him, to find out what he felt like, but she did not dare. Once she lifted her hand and let it hover only an inch above his bare skin, but could not bring herself to go any further.

He seemed to have noticed her predicament and, breaking their kiss, he gently took her hand in his to guide it towards his chest until her palm lay flat against his warm skin.

"You can touch me, Margaret", he murmured. "You can touch me as much as you like in any place you desire." Reassured by his words she slowly moved her hand across his chest, feeling the strong muscle and soft hair under her hand.

He drew a shuddering breath at her touch and his head dropped to her chest, as his eyes drifted closed. She realized that her touch did that to him. That she was making him feel the way she had felt when he had touched her breasts with his hands and mouth.

Fuelled by a sudden desire to give him pleasure, she bravely lifted her head and pressed her lips to his chest, kissing him there. "Margaret!", he moaned. It was all the encouragement she needed. Her arms wrapped around his body, her mouth on his skin, carefully exploring him with her lips, as his breathing grew increasingly irregular.

Margaret found it a bit strange that men had nipples too, even though they would not need to nurse a baby. She wondered if his were as sensitive as her own. As she flickered her tongue across one of them, his whole body tensed, and she heard him whimper something incoherent.

He pulled away from her enough to claim her lips with his again, his hands now moving down her body, beyond her breasts, over her belly, towards her upper thighs. He broke the kiss to look down at her face, as his hand slid down to her knee and then slowly moved back up along the inside of her thigh.

Margaret bit her lip to keep from crying out loud, as he moved dangerously close to that extremely sensitive spot between her legs. He did it again, caressing down the outside of her leg and then slowly, deliberately moving up her inside, stopping only an inch from the centre of her throbbing desire. "Oh!" Her hips bucked again, as her legs fell apart, exposing her core to him.

He drew slow circles on her inner thigh, the back of his hand brushing against that most sensitive spot repeatedly, then quickly pulling away. It was as though he was deliberately teasing her.

He lowered his head to the side of her neck once more, breathing against her skin and then sucking at a particular spot behind her ear that was extremely sensitive. She turned her hips slightly, moving her wet centre towards his hand. "Please, John!", she begged shakily, not even knowing what she was asking for.

She felt him smile against her skin and then he lifted his head, his eyes searching hers. "Look at me Margaret", he whispered and she did as she was told, fixing her eyes on his.

And then he moved his fingers, and he was there, touching her in that place where all the nerve endings in her body seemed to have come together. A strangled cry erupted from her lips, as her hips moved to press into his hand.

Her eyes drifted closed. "No!", he whispered to her. "Look at me. I want to see how it makes you feel!" His words fuelled her arousal, as she forced her eyes open, looking straight into his, to let him see her desire.

Slowly his fingers slid between her folds, stroking her, caressing her gently. Her mouth fell open in wonder, as she desperately struggled for air. He traced his fingers along her entrance.

"You feel incredible!" His voice was hoarse, filled with need. Still keeping his eyes locked to hers, his fingers found a little nub between her folds, and as he circled around it, she felt violent jolts of pleasure course through her, as though she had been struck by lightning.

It was too much. She could not take it, and yet she wanted – she needed more. Margaret cried out once, twice, three times, unable to stop, as she pressed herself into him in sheer despair.

"Yes, Margaret, just like that!", he hissed, urging her on, his own desire evident in his voice.

John's head was spinning with his need for her, the hardness between his legs throbbing painfully. He needed to hold on, needed to hold back for her. He wanted to give her this. Very slowly he slid one finger inside her, feeling her legs spread even wider, as she instinctively moved into his touch.

Her eyes widened as he touched the inside of her body. It was a strange sensation she had never felt before. "This", he whispered to her "this is where I will enter you. But first, I need you to be ready for me."

Slowly he started moving his finger in and out of her, drawing sharp gasps from her at the movement. She was so hot, so wet for him, he could barely take any more. He slid a second finger inside her, stretching her carefully. "How does it feel, Margaret?"

She was fighting to regain her senses enough to answer. "It – it feels – " He kept moving in and out, making it unable to form a coherent sentence. "It feels – strange – but – ooooh!" His other hand had found her nub again and circled it, as his forefinger and middle finger still kept moving in and out of her.

He increased the speed, pressing into her deeper and she felt herself climb, climb higher. Her senses dwindled, her head spun, she could barely breathe as the pressure kept building, building…until suddenly, unexpectedly…the entire world shattered around her and she was washed away in a tidal wave of pure rapture.

She felt her inner walls clench around his fingers, and she threw her head back with a strangled, helpless cry. His lips were upon hers, swallowing the sounds, as she groaned into his mouth over and over, clinging to him as she rode wave after wave of pleasure, her whole body convulsing with an uncontrollable force.

She slowly came to her senses, unable to grasp what had just happened to her, as she lay in his arms, defencelessly while her breathing gradually returned to normal. He held her close, and through her daze, she could feel him pressing gentle kisses to her forehead, and whispering words of endearment against her skin.

After a minute he drew back slowly and got up from the bed. Margaret raised herself up to look at him, still unable to utter anything that would make sense.

She felt a pang of embarrassment for her complete loss of control. What would he think of her now? Was this why he had retreated from her? She watched anxiously as he pulled down his trousers and stepped out of them, before pulling down his drawers, leaving him completely naked.

Margaret swallowed as he turned towards her to kneel back on the bed, and her gaze dropped down between his legs, her eyes widening slightly at the size of him. She quickly looked away, almost sheepishly. How was he going to fit inside her? No wonder many women described this act as painful.

He seemed to sense her nervousness and bent down to kiss her. "It is alright, dearest. I will be gentle. Tell me to stop if it becomes too much to bear." She felt a wave of gratefulness towards him, as he moved closer to her.

"John – can I – " she swallowed, embarrassed. He looked at her questioningly and she could not help but drop her gaze between his legs once more. He seemed to understand what she was trying to say and, once again, taking her hand in his carefully, he guided it towards his body.

As her hand made contact with him, he let out a shaky moan. His skin felt softer than she had imagined, his flesh hot and throbbing lightly. The tip was leaking a few drops of fluid. "Show me how to touch you", she whispered to him, bravely, wanting to see what kind of effect she could have on him.

He carefully put his hand over hers and wrapped it around himself, slowly starting to move it up and down. "Oh – dear God!", he growled, closing his eyes, his face a mixture of pain and bliss.

As she continued the movement he had shown her, she felt his hips buckle, pressing into her hand as his whole body trembled with pleasure, small moans and gasps escaping his lips.

Seeing him like this rekindled Margaret's own desire, and so soon after her release, she felt the pressure starting to build between her legs again. It was as if pleasing him in this way excited her more than anything else.

"Stop!", he panted out all of a sudden, as his hand took hold of hers again and slowly pulled it away from his body. She looked at him worriedly. "Have I done something wrong?" "No! No Margaret! It's just – if you keep going like this, all of it will be over sooner than I wish."

She was not sure what he meant by that, but did as she was told. He took a moment to bring his body back under control, taking deep breaths to calm himself, before he brought his mouth to hers once more, and knelt between her legs. "Margaret – are you ready?" he murmured against her lips. "I – I think so", she breathed.

He took his throbbing member into his right hand and let the tip touch her folds, rubbing against her nub, circling it slowly, the movement bringing them both extreme pleasure. Then he positioned himself at her entrance. "Tell me to stop if it hurts too much", he muttered against the side of her face and she nodded, gasping for breath.

Slowly he pushed himself forward, entering her inch by inch.

It was a strange sensation. He was big, filling her, stretching her. She felt her muscles tense around him painfully, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. He sensed her discomfort and stopped, furrowing his brow in concentration.

It took all of John's self-control to go slow. He fought the overwhelming urge to thrust into her wildly and, holding his breath, he forced himself to hold on just a little longer.

She felt him bring his hand down between them, placing it on her lower abdomen, just above the dark curls which were covering her wet centre. His hand pressed against her skin gently, massaging in slow circles.

"Breathe, Margaret", he whispered into her ear. "Keep breathing!" She shakily released the breath she now realized she had been holding, and felt her body relax under his touch, the muscles inside her beginning to soften, and a moment later he was able to slide further in, burying himself inside her deeply.

They lay like this for some seconds, connected with each other, body and soul, as he gave her time to get accustomed to the feeling of him. "Margaret – I – I need to move", he moaned shakily. "Do you think you can bear it?" "Yes, John. I am alright", she reassured him.

Gradually he pulled out, only to press back into her a moment later with a groan. Margaret let out a gasp as his tip hit her inner wall, her eyes fluttering closed at the new, unfamiliar sensation.

There was a little bit of pain, but it was quickly superseded by a different, more pleasurable feeling. He did it again, slowly pulling out and pushing into her once more, stretching her. It was not unpleasant, she realized with surprise, holding on to him, as he kept going.

Slowly he found a rhythm, holding her hips with his hands to lightly tug her towards him with every push. She opened her legs wider, craving a deeper touch.

His hand found the pit of her knee, and he carefully pulled it towards him, enabling him to bury himself inside her even deeper. Margaret gasped into his mouth, as their tongues twirled around each other, mimicking the movement of their bodies, while he slowly sped up the rhythm.

With every thrust the slightly uneasy feeling inside eased away a little more, giving way to a strange craving. This felt good. She wanted this. She wanted more of him inside her, deeper, faster. Her hips started moving, meeting him with every thrust, her hands clutching his shoulders like a lifeline.

"Ah!", she panted every time he filled her, unable to recognize the sounds coming from her own mouth. Then, he hit one particularly sensitive spot inside her, and her breath hitched, as her nails dug into his back reflexively. He did it again, forcing a strangled cry from her lips.

John was delirious, intoxicated with her body around him, her skin rubbing against his, the sounds she made. It was so much more than he could have imagined, even in his wildest dreams. She was so tight, so wet for him, her body moving against his with an urgency that made him lose his mind.

Again and again he thrust himself into her, his scrotum hitting her outer folds with every push. She was groaning with abandon now, having completely forgotten her initial embarrassment, as she gave herself to him willingly, helplessly.

He felt an immense pressure build inside him. It was not long now, but he needed to do this for her, he needed to take her with him and show her what it was to fall into this blissful oblivion together.

He reached his hand down between their moving bodies, his thumb once again finding the little nub between her folds and lightly pressing against it. Her body tightened around him as she yelped in disbelief at the feelings coursing through her.

He sped up the movement of his hand while driving himself into her senselessly and then…"Jooohn!" His name, a cry on her lips, her walls convulsing around him…it was all it took to push him over the edge.

He threw his head back with a guttural groan and let go, his whole body shaking, as he pulsed into her. He pushed himself forward two more times, crying out as he felt his scrotum convulse violently. Then, he collapsed on top of her, feeling her arms around him, as she clung to him for dear life.

They lay there, entangled in each other's arms, neither of them able to make sense of what had just happened, both unable to form a single coherent thought.

Margaret's world was changed forever. She could not believe that it was possible to feel like this. How could something that felt this incredible ever be considered sinful?

She felt his strong body tremble in her arms with the aftershocks of his release, and was overcome by her love for him. Her shaking hand gently stroked his hair, as his head was still buried against the side of her neck, and her eyes welled up with tears of joy at having shared this with him.

John felt himself soften inside her and carefully pulled out, supporting himself on his forearms to either side of her, to relieve her of his weight. He lifted his head to look at her and froze when he saw her tears.

"Margaret", he whispered with a pang of concern, carefully touching his hand to her cheek. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" 'Please, let her not be hurt!'

But then he saw her smile at him and shake her head lightly. "No", she whispered. "I am just overcome with this feeling", she pulled his head to her, kissing his lips gently before looking up into his eyes once more.

"You were incredible, John. I never thought anyone could be so gentle, or that anything in this world could feel so good." He breathed a sigh of relief. "It was good for you? It was not too painful?", he asked, trying to reassure himself.

"It was spectacular", she told him with a smile. "I have never felt anything like it. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but the feeling of you inside me – John, it was beyond anything I have ever felt before."

"Oh Margaret", he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers, as he closed his eyes. Their warm breaths mingled and their hands softly caressed each other with feather-light touches, every move conveying their love for the other.

Eventually, he rolled over and lay on his back next to her with a sigh. She instinctively moved to place her head on his chest, her hand tracing lazy circles on his skin. She let her gaze travel down his uncovered body to the place between his legs. It was changed now, it looked smaller and had turned soft.

"It looks different from before", she said, unable to stop herself, and instantly felt herself blush at her own words. He followed her gaze with his and a sly grin appeared on his face.

"Well, Margaret, I am afraid you have broken it", he told her, trying to keep his tone serious. Her head shot up to look at him, a shocked expression on her face, and he burst out laughing. It was the first time she heard him laugh out loud, and it was as if the sound went right through her, warming something deep inside her.

She realized that he was teasing her and slapped his chest playfully with an embarrassed little smile.

He lifted his head and pressed another quick kiss to her lips. "Do not worry, dear, it hardens only when we are together like this, preparing for this physical connection. I could scarcely walk around all day with it being like that."

This time it was Margaret's turn to laugh. "I suppose that makes sense", she told him with a chuckle.

He moved to pull the bed covers around them, and they lay in silence, as the fire slowly burned down, occasionally filling the room with a comforting crackling sound.

Margaret suddenly had to think about something Mrs. Eldon had said to her that day: That many men would seek out other women for this sort of pleasure. She quickly tried to force the thought from her head, but found that she could not.

As he had lain with her, he had known exactly where and how to touch, where to kiss her, how to move against her to draw those helpless sounds of pleasure from her lips. He was not inexperienced, she could tell, and she felt her heart clench at the thought of it.

"John?" "Hm?" He turned his face towards her with a slightly sleepy expression, as if he had been about to doze off. She was unsure of how to begin, but he had told her that he wanted them to be open and honest with each other, always. "You have done this before, have you not?", she finally forced herself to ask. "You – seemed to know quite well what you were doing."

He did not respond immediately. She watched his gaze drop from hers a little uncertainly, as he grasped for words to explain himself, his demeanour confirming her suspicion. His hand sought hers and squeezed it gently, as he ran his thumb across her knuckles.

"Yes, I have been with women before", he confessed in a quiet voice. "It was a long time ago and under very different circumstances than those, I am in now."

She did not know what to say. She did not know how to feel. She knew that men were less restricted than women when it came to these matters, and until now she had not given it much thought, had not wondered about his past.

All she knew now was that the thought of him in another woman's arms, doing those things he had done to Margaret tonight, made her insides tighten into a painful knot.

"Margaret", he whispered and lifted his head slightly, searching her face with his eyes. "You must understand that I grew up in a place much different from anything you have known. There were no rules of propriety in Princeton. No one really cared, people sometimes just – did it against a brick wall in the street."

He noticed her shocked expression and hesitated, afraid that he might have frightened her with his openness. "And no, I never did that", he rushed to assure her. "But it's just the way things are in these places. It is not about love, it is merely about physical relief."

That was what Mrs. Eldon had told her – that men craved this feeling so much that they would even pay women for it. Had he done that? Had he let a woman sell her body to him?

His voice was low, almost painful when he continued: "I was young, Margaret, I was alone. After my mother had died, the only time I was ever touched by another soul was when I took a beating at the workhouse…"

"Being with a woman – it was something that brought some momentary pleasure – and I craved that. But whenever I gave in to it, I found it to be nothing more than – a physical reaction. There was no love, no deeper connection. In the end, it left me feeling drained and empty. I have not been with a woman in more than eight years, since before I took over Marlborough Mills."

She held his gaze, unable to look away. "Did you – ", she started hesitantly, needing to ask the question. "Did you pay for – you know?" He immediately shook his head. "Never. I would not. The women I was with had me of their own free will, not out of financial necessity. And they were not many, Margaret", he added.

His answer soothed at least some of her worries. "John-", she started self-consciously.

"Mrs. Eldon told me that many men will take on a mistress when they are married, and release their wife from her marital duties." He looked at her incredulously, trying to read her expression. "You would not want me to do that, Margaret, would you?", he asked, slightly worried.

"Heavens, no!", she cried out. "It is just – it is something I have worried about ever since she spoke of it."

He put his finger under her chin, gently lifting her head to meet his gaze. "Margaret, look at me!" She did and found his expression one of earnestness. "Do you have any idea how many women in Milton have been pining for my attention in all these years? If I had desired a mistress, I could have easily taken one any day."

She swallowed hard at his words. "But I did not", he whispered with a tinge of urgency. "It is not something I wanted and neither will I ever want it in the future. I have no desire to ever touch, or even look at another woman again. Not when I have the most beautiful creature in the world right here in my arms." He turned them both over unexpectedly and Margaret found herself lying on her back, with him leaning over her.

He stroked a gentle finger down her cheek and her neck and then faintly traced her collarbone, making her shiver.

"You asked me if I have ever done before what we did tonight", he murmured passionately, his face close to hers, and there was something in his gaze that captivated her. "The truth is, that I have not. These other women may have touched my body…but Margaret, you have touched so much more."

Suddenly she saw something glistening in his eyes, almost like unshed tears. His expression was raw, overcome by a strange emotion, and when he spoke again, his voice was slightly hoarse:

"Being here with you – lying in your arms – it felt as though your soul touched mine. Like they became one. We did not just share lust tonight, Margaret, we made love. You have made me feel things inside me, I did not know existed. And it feels like, for the first time in my life, I have come home."

There was something wet on Margaret's cheeks as her heart welled up with wonder and sheer joy. No one had ever spoken such beautiful words to her. He bowed his head and kissed away the salty trails on her face slowly, taking his time.

"John, I love you", she whispered tearfully. "I love you more than I love myself."

"You are not disappointed in me?", he asked in a quiet voice, after a moment. "For having given myself to someone else before?" She contemplated his question for a few seconds, but found that after the things he had just said to her, all the uneasy feelings from moments before had left her.

"I am not", she said earnestly. "I will admit that – at first, I felt a sense of sadness at not – being your first – at not having this experience together, but now, that I think about it – I am glad, John."

"Glad?", he asked puzzled, and she nodded. "I am glad that at least one of us knew what we were doing tonight", she chuckled. "I doubt it would have been this pleasurable otherwise. And John – "

She became serious once more, feeling like she would drown in his eyes at any moment. "I am glad that these experiences, even if they were not as satisfying, at least gave you some sort of comfort after everything you went through. God knows you deserve every bit of it."

He lay down next to her with a sigh and pulled her into his arms, feeling beyond grateful for her acceptance. "Well, I have all the comfort I ever needed right here with me now", he murmured. "I will never want for anything more again."

She smiled, snuggling up against him, and was suddenly overwhelmed by tiredness, which seemed to weigh down her eyelids, as the exhaustion of the day and their nightly activities together finally got the better of her. She turned, so her back was against his front, touching him all the way down, his skin against hers, his warm breath on the back of her neck.

His arms wrapped around her, gently pulling her closer to him, and as they lay there, Margaret felt incredibly safe and sheltered…and above all else, she felt loved.

This was her last thought, before she drifted off into the most peaceful, deep sleep, she had had in a long time.

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Only one more chapter to go...