She pressed her lips fervently against his, bearing down over him a little. One of her hands pinned his gently down to the mattress- not that she didn't know he could have easily have shaken her off had he wanted to- and her other slowly moving up and down his length, warm and hard under her fingers. She smiled against his lips, pulling away from him a little but her hands holding fast.

"Richard, you're beautiful," she told him softly, bowing her head to kiss his chest softly, nuzzling against the growth of grey-dark hair that lay in the centre of his chest. Where her cheekbone made contact with his skin, he could feel his heart beating eagerly, "I know you're not supposed to tell men that, but I don't care. I think you're beautiful," she spoke so quietly she wondered if he could hear her over his laboured breathing but when she paused for a moment she could clearly sense that he was hanging on to her every word, "I love you, so of course you're beautiful to me, but when you're like this..." She paused again, kissing his chest once more, "God," she admitted, "I never imagined you'd be like this. Richard, you're magnificent."

"Isobel," he groaned her name in a low voice as she continued to mover her hand up and down, his arms wrapping around her, and holding her more closely to him. He always touched her tenderly, but this time she felt his fingers tighten just a notch beyond what was comfortable on her shoulder. She had a feeling it had something to do with the hard time he was having keeping control.

"What's the matter, my darling?" she asked him gently, "Don't you like this?"

"Like it?" his eyes drifted slowly shut, "Oh, Isobel. If only you-..."

She cut him off, raining kisses down on his chest again, gradually tracing her way down to his navel.

"Isobel," his voice came out in a mixture between a sentence and a moan, "You don't have to, you know."

"I know," she replied, looking up at him, "And that's why I want to. And because of what you did for me earlier. I need to do this for you, I want to do it."

She pressed a kiss down onto his length, heard him hiss with pleasure, and withdrew just an inch.

"I want you to let go for me, Richard," she told him, "Can you do that? No, shhh," she silenced him with another kiss, cupping him softly in her hand, "Don't worry about it. Don't. Just let go."

And with that, she drew him into her mouth as deep as he would go, running her teeth lightly back and forth along his length, swirling her tongue around the tip. She could feel the tension in his hips as he tried desperately not to thrust into her mouth. She swallowed hard and she could hear him moaning. Humming quietly against him, she cupped him in her other hand once again, caressing him, coaxing him until finally she felt the tension slip as he threw back his head, coming in her mouth. His hand was pressed into her hair, but he was not hurting her. She felt his hips rocking frantically beside her, and once he stopped, she leant her head on his thigh, gently fondling him clean as his breathing slowly calmed down.

"Isobel," he spoke her name so softly after having called in wildly at the height of his climax, "That was-... I don't... No one's ever-..."

"Never?" she asked curiously, surprised at that.

"Never as willingly as you," he told her, pulling her up to his end of the bed so he could hold her as he lay, "I've certainly never been... taken, not like that."

She could feel herself blushing furiously.

"I suppose you find me very brazen?" she asked him, feeling almost shy of his answer.

"I love you," he told her, "I think you're remarkable. I-..."

"What?" she pressed him, stroking her hand carefully across his chest, "Whatever it is, Richard, say it."

He remained quiet.

"We're married," she whispered to him, "You're a part of me."

He swallowed hard, but once he made eye contact with her, he did not break it.

"Last night," he began, "When we were-..."

"Making love," she supplied clearly for him, watching him carefully.

"Making love," he agreed, "I was so shocked."

"By what?" she asked.

"You," he replied, "And by myself in a way. I couldn't believe you came," he confessed, "I've never made love to a woman like you before. I've never wanted to please someone so much before, I was convinced that I wouldn't be able. You're incredible, Isobel, I really mean it. You have such life in you, even though recently it might not have felt like that. I've seen you grieve: even your sadness is passionate. It used to frighten me, but now I need it, I can't get enough of it. You're so incredible," he repeated, "I never thought I'd be able to fulfil someone like you, Isobel. I can't imagine I'm making much sense," he added, almost as an afterthought, seeing the look on her face.

She smiled at him.

"No, Richard," she replied, "You're not. I never thought for a moment that you wouldn't be able to satisfy me. I knew you would be able to the moment you brought me up to bed, the moment I felt your lips, and, oh, when you touched me."

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her, her hands cupping his face, holding her close to him.

"I love you too, Richard," she told him.

"Isobel?" he asked gently, "When I touched you, was it like this?"

His hand pressed gently to her breast, caressing her nipple gently.

"Yes," she groaned, "Oh, yes, Richard, like that. And-..." she trailed off, her head falling back as he continued to press gentle circles into her breast.

"And what?" he asked patiently, "Tell me, my love."

"When you, there," she told him, "When you... opened me."

"Like this?" he asked, slipping his other hand between her legs, parting her folds and pushing a single finger inside her.

"Oh, God, yes, like that."

"Come on," he told her, "Come on, my beautiful Isobel. Take what you need."

"I need-... from you... more."

"This?" he asked, slipping another finger inside her.

"Yes," she groaned, barely able to speak, "And, your thumb. Please."

"There?" he asked, pressing it firmly against her clitoris.

"Oh, yes. Oh, Richard, sweetheart."

His hand did not move.

"Come on, my love," he told her, "Take what you want."

There was a moment's pause, then slowly, she began to lift and lower herself onto his fingers, her hips moving with an element of precision, taking as much as she could before sinking back. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the feeling of his fingers filling her, his thumb rubbing her.

"Richard," she moaned, "Help me, please. I need more."

He let her move herself for a few more seconds, before beginning to move his hand with her, so that she felt twice the friction. He heard her give a surprised moan, her eyes opening.

"Yes, Richard," she murmured, "Please, touch my breasts too- YES!" she cried as his mouth latched onto her nipple, "Like that."

He lapped hungrily at her breasts, moving his fingers all the while as her hips shook beneath him, rutting herself against his hand as he stroked her towards her climax.

"Richard, I can't-..."

"Then don't," he whispered, just as she had done to him, "Come on, my love, let go."

He heard her cry out as he felt the rush of moisture about his hand as she finally let herself come. He felt her bury her head in his shoulder, waiting for her climax to abate. Her breathing was heavily laboured.

"I've got you my love," he told her, gently, stroking her back as her hips rocked in towards his body, "I've got you. I love you."

End. (This time.)

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