Chapter 5

A/N: M-rated chapter ahead. For deeedeee.

His tears were flowing in earnest now; he buried his face between her breasts and held her tightly. Her heart clenched in fear; her first instinct to cradle him to her, to sing to him, had clearly been wrong.

"Charles, what's wrong? What have I done?"

He shook his head against her and gripped her more tightly.

"Charles, please, tell me what's upset you so? Have I…have I done something wrong?" Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she hated herself for it.

Charles lifted his head to look her in the eyes; he took a deep, shuddering breath. "You've done nothing wrong, Elsie. Nothing at all. You were perfect. You are perfect." He looked away. "It's me."

Now she was well and truly afraid. "What's the matter, Charles. Please tell me. You're not ill, are you? It's not…it's not your heart?"

"No, of course not." He sighed. How could he explain? How could he even talk of those days with her, the sights, the sounds, the women. He risked another look; fear and concern were written all over her face. How could he not? He stroked her cheek gently, then shifted himself so that he could sit beside her. "I'm sorry, my love." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I didn't even turn down the bed!" He reached down and grabbed the coverlet and pulled it over them. Somehow, this wasn't a conversation he could have unclothed. He took a moment to settle her more firmly against him, tucking the coverlet around her more securely. Quit stalling, man. "I'm not entirely sure where to begin."

"What exactly is it that you want to tell me?"

"Elsie, do you understand why I couldn't allow myself to kiss you last night?"

"I think I do now."

It was so much harder to have this conversation without looking into her eyes, but he was such a coward. He couldn't bear to see disappointment or even God forbid disgust in them. "I…I've loved you for a long time. Many years now, though I didn't know it then. Do you understand?"

"I think so," she replied slowly. "It was the same for me, though I think I realized it much sooner than you did."

He laughed sharply. "That doesn't surprise me." He tightened his grip around her, as if to reassure himself of her presence. "I was able to put those feelings by until that day at the seaside, when you took my hand." He could feel her smile against his shoulder. "It was a lovely day," he said warmly.

"I couldn't quite believe you took my hand."

"I couldn't quite believe you offered it to me." He took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it. "It had been such a long time since I… since I'd had contact with a woman. Contact? "A beautiful woman," he added hastily.

"Flatterer."

"Not in the least. But after the memorial service-"

"The day you proposed."

"Yes, the day you accepted my proposal, that day, when I kissed you. It wasn't right, it wasn't proper, and I wasn't sure I could stop myself."

"You're not upset about that, are you? I had as much to do with it as you did!"

"But that's just it, Elsie. You didn't."

"I don't understand."

Charles shifted about uncomfortably. "Elsie, when I held you, when I kissed you, I knew you were a respectable woman."

Elsie sat up so that she could look him in the eyes. "What do you mean, Charles? What is it you're trying to tell me?"

Charles cleared his throat. "You'll recall that when I was younger, a young man, I was a member, for a time, in a theatre troupe."

Elsie reached out to him. "Oh, Charles. Is that what's upset you? You've told me all about that."

"Not all." He sat up and took her hand in his. "Elsie, I was not… respectable. I strayed from what I had been taught, from what I believed. Very far." He tightened his grip on her hand. "Once I returned to service, I promised myself I would be a better man, that I would embody those ideals that were taught me, that I would truly earn the respect of those around me. You could understand and forgive, but I never could. When I think of what you did for Ethel… well, I've been a bombastic old fool, and what's worse, a hypocrite. I need to know you can forgive me."

"I'm not sure why you think you need my forgiveness, Charles. Whatever happened in the past is done now, and whatever it was, it made you into the man you are today, the man I came to love." She cupped his cheek with her hand. "Charles, look at me. You are a man of honor and integrity, and, in spite of your attempts to hide it, a very kind and generous one as well. I love you." She kissed him softly on the mouth. "I love you."

"But can you forgive me?"

"Forgive you for what?"

"For succumbing to temptation!"

"You wouldn't be the first man to do it. Nor the first woman, for that matter."

"How can you accept this so calmly?"

"And what would you have me do? Charles, how many years ago was all this?"

"Decades."

"And you want me to be angry with you over things that happened before I even knew you?"

"I don't think you understand!"

"I think I do! You want me to forgive you for "succumbing to temptation" with a woman outside of marriage, is that it?"

"Something like that," he mumbled.

"And I'm telling you that it's unnecessary and not at all something I want to discuss on my wedding night!"

He hid his face in his hands. "Oh, gods, Elsie. I've made a right mess of everything, haven't I?"

"You haven't, mo chridhe. At least not yet."

"I just… I want to be worthy of you."

"And you are, that's what I keep telling you. We none of us are perfect, Charles. But we've been given a gift, our life together is a gift, and I for one intend to enjoy it!"

"Truly?"

His voice, usually so resonant, now soft and broken, tugged at her heartstrings. "Yes, truly. I love you, Charles. I couldn't love any other."

"Not even your Mr. Burns?" His tone was lighter, but Elsie could hear the edge in his voice.

"Not even Mr. Burns. Not after I met you."

"Elsie, I love you, and I've wanted you more than I can bear."

"There's nothing to separate us now," she whispered and reached out for him.

*CE*

With my body, I thee worship.

He thought of those words the minister had said over them, words he believed in again, wholeheartedly, words that united them for all eternity.

He rolled his wife onto her back and rubbed his thumb across her cheek and lips. She smiled hesitantly, worrying that bottom lip in her captivating way. He kissed her softly, using his own lips to pull her bottom lip from between her teeth. He drew it in his own mouth, sucked it lightly, then ran his tongue along the length of it. She shivered and he whispered in her ear.

"Did you like that Elsie?"

She turned her face from his and nodded. Her shyness thrilled him. He kissed along her earlobe, her jaw, her neck and finally her breasts. He was shamed by his haste earlier and wanted desperately to make it up to her. He wanted to please her, knew that he could, if only he were able to take his time. He kissed her breasts tenderly, then teased along the edge of her nipple with his tongue. She gasped and tightened her grip on his shoulders. He grinned and redoubled his efforts, his hands moving across her breasts and belly, between her legs, searching for that dark secret place that he knew would bring her pleasure. Once he found it, her hips bucked against his hand and her fingers tangled roughly in his hair.

"Charles, I…I-"

He looked up at her face, so dear to him, now with a look that is wholly new and only for him, a look of such pleasure and love that he thinks his heart will burst.

"Now?" he whispers.

"Yes, now, mo chridhe, now."

He guides himself inside her with one long thrust and utters an uncharacteristic oath at the sensation. "Oh my darling girl, my love, oh gods, I love you." He kisses her over and over again, the feel of her eager, uncertain tongue in his mouth spurring him harder and faster.

She lifts her legs up and crosses them over his back, his buttocks, and he is lost completely. "Elsie, I can't, I'm going to-"

"Yes, yes, I know, I-."

He squeezes his eyes shut and roars into her neck as he feels her spasm against him, her cries sharp and hot against his ear.

He places fumbling kisses along the hollow of her collarbone, the smooth curve of her shoulder. He can feel her heart beating wildly against his chest. He strokes her soothingly and she mirrors his actions, running her hands across his back, tentatively touching his hips, his backbone.

"I love you, Charles, all of you. Everything you were, and everything you are."

He hasn't the words to tell her what those words mean to him; all he can do is put all his love for her in a desperate, passionate kiss.