As they moved towards the bed, it was safe to say that his mind had been completely purged of any other thoughts than ones of her. He kissed her between the long hurried steps, finally backing her against the edge of the mattress and lowering her gently down to lie on the white sheets. He took his shoes off and lay down beside her. He reached a hand to her waist and drew her to him.

They kissed with more passion than he'd known in his life for what could have been anything from a minute to an hour. Long looks across the hospital ward, fleeting touches of their hands and brushes of their arms, moments when he found himself unconsciously watching the sway of her walk seemed to come pouring out of them both at the touching of their lips, as they lay finally feeling each other as they had wanted to so desperately. He found himself lying over her, supporting his weight on his arms, as they finally broke apart, short of breath and overwhelmed.

She smiled warmly up at him, and raised her hand to smooth across the skin of his face.

"Shh, my darling, we have all night," she told him, "All night."

The tone with which she spoke the endearment to him seemed to catch something in the back of his throat. He thought she saw the change in his eyes as he thought instantly of how he loved and how he would soon lose her, so he quickly buried his face in her neck to kiss her again. This was not a time for sadness, but the most beautiful burst of ecstatic happiness they could possibly know. While they still had the time. He kissed her neck more fervently still.

"Isobel, I love you," he whispered against her throat.

He felt her swallow hard. Her arms wrapped tightly around his back, they lay as still as they had been frantic moments ago, though breathing heavily. He could feel her pulse racing, and kissed her throat once more before dipping lower to lavish attention on her collarbone.

Drawing away, he looked at her face. Her hair which she hadn't ever got around to pinning up lay splayed in its varying brown and gold strands across the white of the pillow. With only a little difficulty, he removed the main clip holding it in place. He was caught between his desire to push aside her skirts and make love to her there and then, and the equally pressing need he felt to hold her, just hold her forever, never letting her leave his arms. Slowly, chastely, he brushed his hand against her hair, wrapping it softly around his fingers. He looked into her eyes more directly and unashamedly than he'd dare to with any other person, and she return it.

Then she laughed and the moment was broken, but he didn't mind. He didn't think he could mind her laughter.

"What?" he asked.

"I know I said we had all night, but if you remain this gentlemanly I think you might drive me mad."

Given that at that moment one of his hands still lingered comfortably at her waist and one of his legs lay in between her thighs, he could only take that remark as and encouraging one. Slowly, he rolled away from her so that he could work on the buttons of her dress without squashing her. She reached out to the top of the bed to switch off the electric light, but he caught her hand before she could. It was only then that he saw a flicker of anxiety in her eyes.

"Isobel..."

"Just..." she spoke carefully, as if it was costing her a great effort to say this, "I just hope you're ready to have your illusions about my brilliantly youthful body thoroughly shattered."

He looked clearly at her again, willing her to understand him.

"Isobel, I don't care if you're hideous," he told her bluntly, "Because I know I won't be able to see it. You are beautiful to me, you already are. And I hope that's all that matters. I want to see you."

Still, he waited for her reply. She nodded haltingly and he resumed the unfastening of the buttons, tenderly kissing each new stretch of skin as it was exposed. The sound of her hitching breath made him smile against her chest as her undid the final button and pushed the dress over her shoulders, lifting himself away from her so that she could take it off easily.

Before they lay back down she made short work of his shirt, throwing it carelessly to the side and off the bed, reaching her hands back around his neck and drawing him back in for a kiss. He complied eagerly, lying over her once more. Feeling his weight above her- he was not by any means too heavy- was reassuring, it made her feel blissfully grounded and stable.

The feeling of his hands on her bare legs surprised her; he had been distracting her beautifully by planting kisses along the curve of her breast above her corset. He brushed up and down, along the insides of her thighs, starting at her knees, drawing perilously close to her knickers. Withdrawing for a moment, he deftly dealt with the fastenings of her corset, discarding it as haphazardly as she had done his shirt. He looked at her once more, before drawing her shift swiftly above her head and off. She blinked at him rather foolishly as he took her in, hoping, hoping desperately that he would remain true to his word, difficult as that might be.

"Oh, Isobel..." his voice sounded hoarse.

She caught his eye just before he lowered his head to kiss her breasts, and felt a fleeting urge to weep for joy.

A while later, she felt his hands return to her thighs, travelling up more purposefully than before, reaching her undergarment and hooking his fingers under the waistband to draw it down her legs. He stood back, removing his trousers and shorts to lie back down beside her. His hands returned to her thighs, resting over her folds, parting her and slipping a finger inside of her. She allowed him to tease her for a while, the heady sweetness of it catching in her throat,making her make noises that she hoped wouldn't put him off, but which only seemed to spur him on, until she started to worry that she really wouldn't be able to hold back.

"Richard..." she managed to gasp, "Richard, together."

He did not stop.

"Richa-..."

"Let me do this for you," he cut across her, "Please."

Just at that moment, she let a low moan escape from her chest. She felt him looking into her eyes, coaxing her.

"Come on," he whispered, "For me."

As soon as he lowered his lips to kiss her centre, she knew she was utterly done for. He continued to stroke her through her climax, not relenting at all through the deep jutting movements that her hips made, so that before her first climax was properly over the feeling started to build again, deep in her stomach.

"Richard, please!"

This time he did not resist, slipping fully inside of her until their hips met, pausing only for a second to ensure that she was comfortable before setting a fast pace. Neither could last very long, but the height of her climax was the strongest and the fullest that she had known in her life. She hadn't known it could be like that. For a moment before it happened, she considered holding back, prolonging this moment before the most ineffable bliss for as long as she could, so she could stay here with him like this, forever. But it was impossible. Unable to think of anything else, she focused full on his eyes as she tumbled over the edge, drawing his body as close to hers as they tumbled over the edge within seconds of each other.

It did not surprise her to find that she was crying when her senses finally came back, and she found their bodies entangled, collapsed together. She suspected that he was too, quietly, barely enough to notice, but still there.

He slipped out of her, pulling her to his side to lie with him, holding her as tightly as he could, letting her bury her chin in his neck as the first blissful-wretched sob of lovers who have to leave each other shook through her shoulders, and she began to weep quietly.

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