A/N: some of you may be glad (and others scandalised) to know that this is rated as a pretty strong M. I figured it's about time our favourite couple caught a break! It may be a bit too much, it may be just right. Who knows. But I hope you enjoy and please do review.
Georg von Trapp was an ardent man, a passionate man, a man who fought fiercely and loved fiercer. It was true that he'd experienced a life of luxury and lived in the utmost comfort - at least until recently. But despite the lavish lifestyle he'd been so fortunate to experience in his forty odd years, he knew heartache better than most. He knew what it felt like to watch friends succumb to the murky depths of the sea, to hear them scream for their mothers as they took their last, terrified breaths. He knew what it felt like to cradle a wife and soulmate as she slipped into the next life. He knew what it felt like to seek solace at the bottom of a bottle, unable to bear the sight of your own children. He was no stranger to the rage that came with having your homeland torn from under your feet. And now he knew the anguish of losing a father in law, a confidante, one of the few remaining ties he'd had to his dear Agathe's memory.
Yes, Georg von Trapp was an ardent man. He felt his grief, his guilt, clawing at his insides more so now than ever before. And he was old enough and wise enough to know that his sorrow sometimes manifested itself in unconventional ways..
Sex. It was all Georg could think about. He was altogether ashamed and unbearably frustrated all at once. After everything the family had been through, what it felt like to sink into the warmth of his eager wife's body should've been the last thing on his mind. But as it was, he found himself consumed by it, confronted with fierce waves of shocking desire at the most unexpected times - when Maria bent to pick up their son and her blouse would hang low from her body, when she moaned her approval over their food when eating breakfast, when she touched him innocently as she passed him on the stairs - and he'd have to remove himself abruptly from the scene before the evidence of his thoughts became too visible to onlookers through the strained fabric of his trousers.
It had been two months since they'd last been intimate. Two months. Children, grief, the after-effects of labour and a newborn baby had all combined to prevent any real passions from becoming ignited. And he found that his lust was becoming entirely overwhelming, altogether insatiable and utterly impossible to ignore.
It wasn't like Maria hadn't tried to be intimate with him - on the contrary, while her body was still very much recovering from Johannes' arrival, she'd still been eager to try and please him in other ways. She seemed to take great pleasure in seeing his desire for her wreak havoc on his body. He remembered their very first night in Chester, when they'd finally settled into their new bed, broken and exhausted, and she'd suddenly closed her silken hand around him before he'd even realised he was aroused.
It had taken all of his willpower to stop her, and he'd gently extracted her fingers from his body, pressing a kiss to them instead, willing her to understand exactly why he was refusing her advances. She was still healing and the truth was, he didn't trust himself to resist the temptation of losing control and ravishing her entirely. Selflessly, or perhaps selfishly, he wanted to wait until he could have all of her, he wanted to wait until he could love her fully and claim her body with his own, instead of succumbing to the allure of her hand or her supple mouth - something she'd wanted to do on more than one occasion since their arrival.
But he was beginning to curse his own sense of honour, finding himself growing increasingly more ragged with need. And he knew full well why he felt this way. It wasn't so much the physical want that left him ravenous for her, though he was certainly aching for release. It was rather the fact that he was hurting. It was the fact that his anguish was threatening to consume him and she was his only relief. He found himself battling with a primitive and selfish need to let go of his pain, to relieve his suffering in the beautiful contours of his wife's body, to forget the turmoil around them and lose himself to her, and - he was ashamed to admit - to possess and control her in a world in which he no longer seemed to have control over anything. Quite simply, he needed nothing less than to be inside his wife's body.
And he found that the longer he waited, the more shocking and animalistic his fantasies of her would become. It had started out innocently enough, when he'd find himself daydreaming of languid kisses, milky skin and gentle caresses, missing the way Maria's body would move in tandem with his own as she cried out her pleasure.
But as time went on, and the more he regretfully declined Maria's tempting advances, his thoughts grew wilder and more primitive in nature. Gone were the recollections of butterfly kisses and lovingly intertwined limbs, replaced instead by shocking images that flashed across his mind and left him burning all over with shame and overwhelming arousal. He was altogether mortified and undeniably desperate at the same time. His thoughts were beyond deplorable and yet, for all his military discipline, he couldn't shake the vivid images of her wanton and ready for him.
"You're far away..where are you?" The very woman he'd been thinking about broke through his disturbing reverie and he whirled round to find her standing in the doorway, looking lovely as ever, and leaving him feeling even more ashamed of his wayward thoughts. He didn't quite know how to tell her that his mind was somewhere in the midst of a desperate and heated encounter in which she was tied to a bed by a particularly strong sailor's knot..
"Just thinking.." he breathed, turning away from her again and staring out the window where the silhouette of rolling Cheshire countryside greeted him amidst the blackness of the night outside, the tiny chapel on the edge of the hill looking rather morbid lit up against the rain that pelted down upon the otherwise idyllic landscape. He found it soothed his overactive imagination.
"About?" She mused, shutting the door behind her and stepping closer, rolling one of the billiard balls across the green velvet surface of the table in front of her absentmindedly.
"Honestly?" He retorted, "you. I was thinking about you."
"How romantic," she teased, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. If only she knew..
"You know, you can tell this house was once owned by an aspiring bachelor," she scoffed, "what with the billiard table, the smoking lounge and the morbid decor," she looked to the blandly painted walls with a haughty sniff of disapproval.
"You sound just like a snooty baroness," he teased with a woeful smile to himself.
"I'm perfecting the art," she retorted playfully and he gave a chuckle that she could tell didn't reach his eyes.
"Are the children finally asleep?" He asked, placing his own hand over her silken arm affectionately as he leaned back into her embrace. He felt her nod against him and she exhaled deeply in relief, the heat ghosting up his neck unexpectedly - and he found himself closing his eyes against the sudden rush of desire that licked at his loins. Pushing past the frustration, he willed himself to think.
"Do they seem okay?" He whispered sadly. It had been over a week since they'd arrived in Chester and broken the news of Robert's death to the children. They'd each dealt with their grief in their own personal ways and Georg had been shocked to discover that it was the very first time he was truly witnessing their mourning. He couldn't quite believe he'd ever let them suffer through the grief of their mother's death alone - it stirred him deeply to see their pain so clearly, where before he hadn't wanted to acknowledge it.
Friedrich had surprised everyone the most by shedding tears the minute he'd heard the news and Georg had gathered his son into his arms to try and quell the boy's gentle sobs. Louisa had struck out in anger, hurt and confused by the losses they had all suffered. It wasn't fair, she'd cried, and Georg had to admit that he entirely agreed with her. Leisl had clung to Maria like a docile child, looking more fragile than he'd ever seen her. How had such a young girl managed to support her siblings through their mother's passing at the age of twelve? The little ones had struggled to understand the news, asking their father if grandpa was going to keep mama company in heaven. That one had been particularly difficult for Georg to hear.
"They're just quiet," Maria replied, her eyes downcast, "they're trying to come to terms with it."
It was an understatement but he accepted it nonetheless. What more could he ask of his children than to try and keep moving?
"Johannes is with Margaret for the night," Maria added on a whisper, "I think his presence soothes her.."
Breathing a deep sigh, he turned in her arms, his face grave with unspoken melancholy.
"And Thomas.. Lucy?"
He didn't miss the hesitation in Maria's eyes. They'd taken the two youngest children away from their siblings - for that's exactly what the von Trapp brood had become to them by now - for an afternoon in the Cheshire countryside, not long after having arrived in their new lodgings. Little Thomas and his sister had met the news of their parents' passing with heartache and sadness, though they didn't quite understand exactly what it all meant. They knew however, from their older siblings' recollections of their own mother's passing, that they'd never see their parents again. Thomas had stuck like glue to Georg's side ever since, asking on numerous occasions whether Georg too was going to leave them unexpectedly. The question often left Georg breathless with melancholy, and he knew he'd do everything in his power to make sure the two little English children who'd captured his heart would never suffer such loss again.
He glanced at the mantelpiece across the room then, where a little model boat stood tall and proud upon the mahogany surface. Determined to stay close to Thomas and fulfil his promise, the two of them had spent many hours over the last few days poring over instructions and fiddling with intricate pieces until the little boy's Christmas present had finally been completed and the eyes of its proud owner had glistened with wonder. He knew then, that the little boy he'd formed such a delicate bond with would be just fine.
Lucy however, had become rather more subdued, as though she'd mustered the forlorn acceptance of a girl far beyond her years. He prayed that, as time went on, she'd come back to herself, surrounded by the love of her family.
"They'll survive," was Maria's simple reply, though it was wrought with sadness and the unspoken implication that only time would tell. They knew now there was nothing else to do but wait, wait until Georg had his affairs in order so that they could finally leave for America.
Georg gripped her waist a little tighter then and nodded solemnly, his eyes fixed to the boat. He could only bring himself to meet her eyes again when he felt her finger, unbearably soft, tuck under his chin and lift his face until his gaze locked with hers.
Her face was so beautiful, so pure amidst the darkness he felt engulfing his heart, that he found himself wanting desperately to strip them both bare, emotionally and physically, until there was no more heartache, no more war, no more loss, no more fear - until there was nothing but the two of them left vulnerable in their rawest form.
He searched her eyes and found his own sadness reflected back at him, her face contorted with empathy and compassion - and he could tell there was a question waiting on her rosy lips.
"Go ahead," he whispered, his eyes burning, "ask me."
She hesitated, before taking a deep breath, "what happened at the base, Georg?"
Maria was a patient wife, despite her seeming inability to exercise patience in any other area of her life. And she knew that her stoic captain took to brooding at the worst of times, struggling alone with his grief and shutting the world out when he was hurting deeply. He hadn't breathed a word of the horrors he'd seen to Maria or any other soul since they'd left the base that day and until now she'd respected his desire to remain silent. But she was beginning to fear that he would allow the experience to tear away at his conscience. She feared that he would withdraw from his family once again, that he would suffer his heartache in isolation and bear the guilt of their loss.
She watched the array of emotions play out across his face as he battled inwardly with himself over how much to reveal - hesitation, anguish, guilt, a flash of anger, and worst of all, overwhelming sadness. His eyes bore into her own, the darkness she found churning there filling her with dread and anticipation all at once. Neither of them seemed to breathe, knowing that the words once uttered could never be taken back, that once he opened his mouth the loss would have to be confronted once and for all. It felt like hours had passed, or perhaps it had merely been a few seconds, when his face finally crumbled and he exhaled a shuddering breath that made her lungs tighten as he pulled her closer desperately, burying his face in her hair.
"I tried," he choked as his voice shook, closing his eyes against the pain of his confession, "I tried to save him."
She burrowed her arms under his lapels as he clung to her, slipping her hands around his waist and allowing his body to wrack against her with the force of his silent sobs. He had only expressed such raw emotion a handful of times since their treacherous journey had begun all those months ago and she found that she was rapidly transported back to the day he'd first made love to her in Davos, crying unashamedly in her arms, such was his overwhelming despair. And here he was once again, not the aristocrat, not the sea captain, not the wealthy baron, but simply a man reduced to his lowest common denominator, a man exposed in his most vulnerable form.
"Oh darling," she soothed, cradling him as best she could, knowing there was nothing she could say to relieve his anguish.
"I made it as far as the office.." he stammered into her hair, tightening his grip around her as though it hurt to recall the memory, though now that he'd started, he found the words came rushing out, "but then.. " he swallowed hard, "there was a godawful blast.. it threw me across the floor. Everything went black. When I was unconscious, I saw the children, each of them with Agathe... and then Johannes with you.. it gave me the strength to fight the darkness," he took another shuddering breath and forced himself to continue, "When I finally came to, the whole wing was up in flames. I.. I could hardly see anything, but I could smell them burning.."
As difficult as it was to re-live what he'd experienced, he felt as though a weight had suddenly been lifted. He'd witnessed so much violence and terror in his navy days that he'd almost become numb to it over the years, burying it away deep down where he never had to confront it. The horrors of war were rarely spoken about, and to be emotionally affected by it was akin to revealing your own weakness. But that still hadn't stopped even the bravest of military men from experiencing night terrors and shell shock as a result of the unspeakable things they'd seen. Maria had been the first and only person to encourage him to share such turmoil, to assign words to the terrors that remained forever etched onto his eyelids. And he felt something shift within him as he breathed the words into her hair, as though a damn had suddenly burst in the deepest recesses of his heart.
He nuzzled into her neck as he let the sorrow finally claim him, the tears falling not only for his father in law, but for the boys who would never return home, for the mothers who would never see their sons again, for the wives who had lost their husbands in the shadows of Hitler's tirade. He had apparently finished talking and instead undertook to burrowing deeper into her shoulder in an attempt to muffle his whimpers, as though he were somehow ashamed of demonstrating such fragility. Maria did have to admit, if someone had told her all those months ago, when she'd first met her stern captain, that he would one day trust her enough to weep on her shoulder like a vulnerable child, she would've eaten that ludicrous whistle of his.
But as it was, she didn't have time to contemplate such a ridiculous notion, because her captain's sobs eventually began to calm and in their wake came light, languid kisses that he began pressing to her throat where his face remained buried - one, then another, then another as he clung to her - slow, intoxicating kisses that caused the atmosphere in the room to hum suddenly with a new and dangerous rush of anticipation. His ministrations grew increasingly more urgent, his wet mouth opening against her skin and making her body tremble with unexpected need.
And before she could determine up from down, before she could make sense of his sudden change in behaviour, his hands were twisting into her hair and he was nipping at her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, his whimpers giving way to deep, desperate groans of intoxicating relief. He was finally succumbing, she realised - succumbing to the need that had been welling up inside him, and his frantic urgency was altogether shocking and incredibly arousing all at once. It was like his sense of honour was slipping through his fingers and he was finally allowing himself to lose control, to forget his anguish and act only on the primal urges he'd been desperately trying to conceal. And she found that she revelled in his sudden need for her, his heady moans and roughened touch setting her entire body aflame.
Within seconds, his mouth descended on hers with another fierce groan of urgency and a hand fell away from her hair to grasp roughly at her breast, the insistent nature of his actions leaving no doubt as to what he was aching for. Feeling instantly dizzy, she parted her lips eagerly for his insistent tongue, and she found herself tugging his shirt impatiently from his trousers, leaving her free to explore the skin of his back and the dark curls that peppered his torso.
She was being swept away on a wave of sensation as he moved their bodies in tandem, driving her backwards until she suddenly made contact with the ridge of the billiard table behind her. Rather than feel alarmed by his insistence, she found she was utterly thrilled by it. She had, after all, tried to be intimate with him on several occasions since they'd arrived in Chester, but he'd wanted to wait, much to her disappointment. But now it seemed, as he wasted no time in grinding his heavy arousal unbearably close to her centre, that he could wait no longer.
Without warning, he broke their frantic kiss, throwing his head back and gasping for breath as he gyrated against her. It had just been so damn long since he'd touched her and even contact as light as this was enough to make him feel as though he might lose control of his body at any moment.
His face, contorted in unrepressed pleasure, was enough to send her heart into her throat, and her fingers flew hurriedly down the row of buttons on his shirt as she met the thrusts of his hips with eager acceptance.
"We can't.. " he rasped suddenly, his breath coming in sharp bursts, "I shouldn't.." but while his words spoke of protest, at the very same time his body did the opposite, bunching her skirts frantically around her waist, lifting her onto the billiard table and guiding her velvet legs around him while she made fast work of the buttons on her blouse.
"Yes you should," she managed, her voice hoarse with need as she threw her shirt to the floor and grappled for his belt, fumbling desperately with the buckle until she was ripping it from its holds.
"But.." he protested weakly, doing nothing to stop her from shoving his own shirt down his arms while he watched his mutinous hands free her heaving breasts from the confines of her undergarments, "I don't want to hurt you.."
She gave him nothing by way of reply then, other than a dark gaze from under thick lashes as she hopped down from the billiard table, deftly undoing his trousers and following their descent until she was on her knees before him.
"Oh god.." he choked, knowing all too well what she was about to do and not entirely trusting himself to remain upright. But before he could pretend to protest, she was bending her head and a pleasure almost too intense to bear was suddenly coursing through him as she pressed her lips to him, the wet warmth of her ministrations evoking a shout that he couldn't contain, setting his blood to boil and making him grasp at the billiard table until his nails were digging into the wood.
She was relentless in her attentions and he resisted the urge to drive his hips forward into the overpowering sensations that were consuming him. He couldn't think, he could barely breathe - he'd wanted his wife so badly these past few months and now it was finally happening. She gave a little moan against him then and he felt his eyes rolling back in his head as his heart thundered in his rib cage. Within minutes, he began to feel the telltale signs of his release building at the base of his spine. He wanted so badly to pull away, to stop her attentions before it was too late, to love her fully and spill into her beautiful body instead. But he found he couldn't bear to tear himself from the bliss of her supple mouth.
Just as he was about to succumb to the overwhelming relief, she pulled away from him abruptly and stood, leaving him all at once bereft and trembling with agonising need.
"Has that convinced you, my darling?" She whispered, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mirth and unadulterated lust.
His eyes could've burned a hole in her face. He knew he must've looked entirely desperate, knew that his irises must've been blazing with uninhibited desire, knew that he was far past the point of no return - and it was this realisation, combined with the knowledge that she was just as desperate - that led him to launch himself towards her, lifting her onto the billiard table once again and tearing her remaining clothes down her body.
Within seconds she lay back for him without hesitation, and with a low groan he was suddenly sinking into the depths of her body, gathering her to him and holding her as close as space and time would allow.
"Oh god I've missed you," he rasped against her lips and he let himself get used to the sensation of finally being inside her, willing himself to love her slowly despite his every nerve burning for release, "I could hardly bear it."
"I'm here now, my captain," she murmured, running her tongue over his lower lip and winding her fingers into his hair as their eyes locked, churning with unspoken adoration. And she found that she meant those words now more than ever before. She would be there for him for the rest of his days if he would let her, as a shoulder to cry on, as an outlet for his grief, as an equal to share in all of life's trials.
She could see it once again, the raw turmoil playing out across his face as he lay himself bare to her, losing himself in her body and revelling in such overwhelming intimacy with another human being. And as she arched into his movements, she could tell that he was still holding back, that he was attempting to be gentle so as not to hurt her. But the more fervently she responded to his thrusts and the more she cried out her pleasure, the more his iron control seemed to slip - and before long his languid movements gave way to a primal urgency that had him driving all of his turmoil relentlessly into the place where their bodies were joined.
It was frantic and chaotic and entirely intoxicating, his eyes burning into hers with such raw passion that she felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. Within minutes she found her wrists were pinned to the green velvet under his strong hands and she was welcoming his frantic urgency as he lost himself to her entirely. Nothing else seemed to exist then, apart from the desperate movement of their bodies as they worked in harmony to find sweet relief. And it could have been mere seconds or long hours later when she finally felt him stiffen between her thighs, the muscles of his torso pulled taught across his chest as he threw his head back and cried out her name in ecstasy, the strangled plea sending her soaring into the heights of rapture on a wave of sensation right there with him.