Chapter 13 – A Second Helping

She sat up. "You can't leave now, darling," she spoke softly. "We'll be found out." Mary was still unfamiliar with her body's response to their passions. She felt a slight fatigue yet her muscles were singing. She sensed a soft burn between her legs and savoured it. She folded her knees up to her chin and hugged them.

Matthew looked to her. He looked to the clock on her mantel. He was uncertain. "I suppose you're right. My mother will have questions. How do we explain it?" He turned to her again.

Mary gave him a faint smile. "I should have told you. I asked Anna to intervene and give our excuses. You left early and I retired shortly afterward." She moved to the edge of the bed and dangled her legs over the side. "I hope that's all right." She looked up at him for approval. She smoothed her hair and gathered it to one side.

He put down his shirt and walked over to her. "That was rather crafty." He sat beside her. She turned to him and they kissed. Mary whispered, "Anna will signal me when everyone is retired." She brought her hand up to his neck. "Then I shall let you go." She caressed his throat softly, and then led her fingertips slowly down his shoulder. She rose and in one graceful movement, she was straddling his hips, her legs folded to either side of him. Her lips sought his again. He ran his hands up and down the front of her thighs and along the sides of her calves. She buried her fingers in his hair, her mouth locked on his. They lost themselves in their embrace, Mary gripping him between her thighs, Matthew's hands about her buttocks.

When Mary lifted her head, her breathing was shallow. "Matthew, what we're doing...is it wrong?" she asked him quietly. Matthew moved his lips to her throat. He took his time. "Wrong in what sense?" he whispered. He ran his hands up and down her back and stared at her breasts. He began to caress them.

"In every sense," she replied breathlessly. Her blood was running hot. He was kissing her breasts softly and randomly. She felt herself creaming and wanted him inside of her. "Do you love me?" he asked her gently. He was aroused and under her spell yet again.

"You are my whole life, Matthew," she murmured. She slid her hands down his shoulders, down the muscles of his arms.

"Then everything is as it should be," Matthew said softly. "Think, Mary, how long we have already waited for each other." He looked up to her. His lips were parted. She placed her open mouth over his and their tongues met. This kiss was softer, less urgent than the others. It held the tenderness of years of devotion, separation, loss and longing. They lingered in each other's mouths. Matthew's hands wandered down her back; his fingertips followed the length of her spine. He broke from their kiss and breathed her name. Mary pleaded softly, "I want you, Matthew." She raised herself up. He directed himself to the edges of her slit. As she lowered her thighs, he filled her up. She gasped at the hot swell of pleasure and desire flooding her belly, thighs and vagina. Her eyes met his. Mary's eyes were wide, deep, and almost desperate. "Are you all right, Mary?" he whispered. She nodded. She began to sway her hips slowly. It was perfect. With each movement, she could feel his swollen shaft reaching, pushing and throbbing.

Matthew reclined, forcing his rod deeper still. He reached for a pillow and placed it behind his head. She put her hands on his chest and continued to rock her hips. She held his gaze. Matthew's eyes were icy and constant. She felt the intensity of his stare and it thrilled her. She remembered their dance on the night of the Spanish flu. Matthew had wanted her then too. And here they were now, dancing again at last. "Oh, my darling," she breathed. She leaned back on her arms and continued to swing her hips. Matthew was enthralled. Mary's figure was resplendent as she rocked on him. Her torso was an undulating slender and lusty curve. Her hips made a smooth arc to her waist and her breasts bobbed as she swayed. He reached out for her, grabbing her waist. He slid his hands down onto her haunches and he pulled down on her as he raised hips."Oh!" Mary gasped.

Matthew continued to work Mary's hips, pushing and pulling. He could feel his cock reach into her and draw back. Each stroke sent a surge of heated lust into his loins, greater than the last. Mary's head was back, her long dark hair grazing his legs. Her breasts were high and peaked. "Mary, come to me," he commanded gently. She pulled herself up and bent over him. She went for his lips and they kissed. Matthew cupped her breasts in his hands, her nipples peeking through his fingers. She raised her hips and came down hard on his shaft. "Oooh," she whispered. "Do you like that, Matthew?" Matthew nodded. His eyes were closed. She raised herself again and came down hard, swivelling her hips. She moaned. She began to slide herself up and down his swollen rod, riding him. Matthew's buttocks were clenched tightly as he raised his hips to meet her descent. "Fuck me, Mary," he whispered fiercely. Mary was lost on the brink of her ecstasy and she pursued it with abandon. "Oh, Matthew..." Matthew squeezed her nipples. Mary cried out softly, "My God..." She shook with the force of her bliss. Watching her climax, Matthew's fervour rushed to its zenith and he let himself go off. He grunted as his shaft released inside her. He gripped her hips hard and continued to rock her slowly until his orgasm was spent.

Mary lowered herself to his chest. She was covered in a light sweat. She moved to slide off of him but Matthew held her in place. "Stay with me," he said, "I want to hold you a while longer." Their breathing was heavy. He kissed her forehead. Mary laid her head against his shoulder. "I hope you don't think this is wrong, Mary," he said. "Do you?"

"I don't know. I suppose a part of me does," Mary replied. "I shudder to think what would happen if Pa-pa were to discover us."

"Would he have me tarred and feathered?" Matthew joked. "I think you underestimate him."

"My father clings to conventions and principles, Matthew," she said. "You saw how he was with Sybil. He would never forgive us."

"I am his heir. You are his daughter. We marry in four weeks. I say it hardly matters," countered Matthew. "What matters is we're together. I think Robert would agree."

Mary lifted her head and smiled at him. She could not remember a moment so filled with pure contentment. Her mind turned to their very first meeting. She had loathed him then or at least she had loathed the concept of him. That they were here now together was a remarkable twist of fate.

"It's getting very late," he said. "I should dress." She raised herself up and gave him a long and sultry kiss. "I hate it that you have to leave," Mary whispered. She lifted herself off from him and sat by his side. She watched him as he dressed. "I envy you your work," she told him. "At least you have a distraction."

"I would hardly call my work a distraction, Mary." Matthew was buttoning his shirt.

"Of course. I only meant that you can apply your mind elsewhere in ways that have meaning." Mary rose from her bed and went to her closet. "For me, it will be more talk of guests, flowers, dresses and cakes." She selected a nightgown and pulled it over her head.

Matthew finished tucking his shirt into his pants. "What would you rather be doing? Not working, surely?"

"Why not?" Mary sat down on the edge of her bed. "I did well as your nurse, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did very well. In fact, I think I might hire you again." Matthew grinned at her. "You can rub me where it hurts. Kiss it and make it all better."

"Matthew, do be serious." She smiled briefly then sighed.

"Forgive me, Mary." He sat beside her. "I want to help, I do. We can talk it about it tomorrow evening. You must think about where your talents lie."

A light rap at the door cut into their exchange. Mary silenced Matthew, holding her finger to his lips. They heard the click and scrape of the key in the lock. She walked quickly to the door and opened it to the narrowest crack. "Thank you, Anna," Mary whispered softly. Matthew saw his coat and hat pass to Mary from an unseen hand. Mary closed the door.

Matthew rose and put on his tailcoat. "That was very neat," said Matthew.

"She is, I think, my best friend," replied Mary. She handed him his things. Fully dressed, Matthew pulled Mary close in a warm embrace. "Very soon, we'll have no need for all this cloak-and-dagger," Matthew said to her. "And I will fall asleep with you in my arms." He kissed her. "I will see you tomorrow, Mary."

"Goodnight, Matthew." One last kiss and he was gone.

Her door closed silently behind him. The house was pitched in a quiet darkness. He made his way quickly down the stairs and through the hall to the front entrance. He marvelled that they had managed yet another visit to her bed chamber without complications. No doubt his mother was already retired. This visit would likely be the last though. They could not chance it again. He slipped through the front door and began the cold trek to Crawley House.

O'Brien watched him from the dining room as he headed down the front drive. "Goodnight, Mr. Crawley," she said quietly to herself. She knew that Anna had been up to something.