A/N: After years of adoring these two and starting + abandoning countless fic attempts, I was finally pushed to finish one thanks to encouragement from fandom friends, and how hot Chris Plummer is in Inside Daisy Clover. (Just keeping it real.) I haven't written or posted fanfiction in years, but I really loved writing this one, and hope to maybe have more to share in the future.

Consider the rating for this one to be more like a high T/low M.

Title is from The Louvre by Lorde.

Maria woke up shivering with the sun in her eyes. Despite it still being early in September, the temperature in Paris had dipped over the past few days as summer slowly faded into autumn. Squinting, she raised her head from the pillow and was reminded that they'd forgotten to fully close the balcony doors to their honeymoon suite before going to bed the night before.

Well, going to bed wasn't quite accurate. It was more like falling into bed, she was reminded as she glanced down at her bare skin and the clothing strown around their bedroom.

Warmth flooded her cheeks despite the chill in the air. He had been insatiable, really. No, that wasn't right, she admitted to herself- they had both been. Their evening at the opera, which they'd frequented several times since arriving in Paris three weeks ago, had started out perfectly normal- that is, until her husband had seen the dress she'd chosen to wear. Black, tight, and partially backless, it was more daring than anything she'd ever worn. But something had told her he'd like it, and her suspicion had been confirmed when she emerged from the closet to join him in the parlor. Georg had actually choked a bit on his mouthful of champagne as he took her in. Of course he had tried to insist his drink had just "gone down the wrong way," but his darkening gaze told her otherwise.

She had thought he might suggest they cancel their plans and stay in- but no, he wouldn't make it that easy. He'd all but tortured her instead, from the feeling of his hand on her knee in the cab ride to the theater, and then on the small of her back once they arrived, his fingers just an inch or so below the skin left exposed by her dress. But it hadn't stopped there. As soon as they'd taken their seats and the lights dimmed, his hand returned to her knee and began to climb dangerously higher up her thigh, not quite where the warmth was beginning to build, but still risky considering their current state. She'd shot him an alarmed glance when his fingertips brushed her inner thigh, but he'd only winked in response, knowing their seats in the back row of the theater box kept them hidden in the dark.

By some miracle, Maria had been able to maintain a shred of composure during the show, the cab ride back, and the elevator ride back to their hotel room. But the minute the door was closed and locked behind them she'd all but pounced on her husband, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him in to kiss him the way she'd wanted to all night. He'd reciprocated in kind, scooping her off the floor and carrying her to their bedroom, where they'd undressed each other with a frenzy before making love until the early hours of the morning.

Goosebumps quickly formed on her arms, thanks to both the memory and the chill. She looked again to their discarded clothing and slipped out of bed to retrieve the closest thing to her, his white shirt. She quickly slipped it on, giggling a bit at how long the hem and sleeves were on her slender frame. As she rolled up the sleeves a bit and fastened a few of the buttons, she caught a whiff of Georg's cologne from the fabric. Despite sharing a bed with him for the past three weeks, she still reveled at all the ways she felt close to him and how much his presence was a comfort to her.

Maria quickly went to close the balcony doors and pulled the curtains shut before slipping back into bed beside her still sleeping husband and pulling the covers up to her chin. She curled onto her side facing him as she took him in, smiling at the sight of his messy hair (which was mostly her fault, she admitted) and serene face. He'd become more relaxed around her after his reconciliation with his children and their unofficial truce all those weeks ago, and even more so since confessing his love. But getting to see him like this had been a different experience entirely. In sleep, the expectations of high society and the years of heartache seemed to melt away, and Maria often thought she must be getting a glimpse of the boy he once was. She felt a surge of pride and gratitude within her that she had the honor of loving him, and was loved so thoroughly by him in return.

She stroked a thumb over his cheek and he began to stir, soon half opening his eyes and giving her a smile that made something low in her stomach flutter. "Good morning, my love," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"I didn't mean to wake you. I know we, erm, didn't exactly get much sleep last night.." she trailed off, getting momentarily distracted by his bare shoulders and the smattering of dark hair on his chest peeking out from underneath the sheets.

"Now, Fraulein, you say that as if it's a bad thing." Georg raised an eyebrow and propped himself up on one elbow to look down at her, the sheet slipping down to his waist. "And if my memory serves correct, which I think it does, you seemed to have enjoyed yourself quite a bit."

Maria rolled her eyes despite the heat she knew had flooded her cheeks. "Really, Georg-"

"I'm truly surprised no one called to complain about the noise." He leaned down for what she thought would be a kiss, but instead he pressed his lips to her forehead and slowly worked his way down her face, similar to the way he had that night in the gazebo. "You were quite insatiable, did you know that?" he teased, nipping at her ear before pulling the sheet away from her.

"Please, darling, you weren't exactly-" the look on his face as he took her in made her lose thought of whatever she had been about to say. It seemed her husband had now taken notice of her wearing his shirt from the night before.

This wasn't the first time she'd been on the receiving end of this particular look, not in the slightest. Despite his stoicism around others, his ability to keep his inner thoughts to himself while he could read her like an open book, he wasn't quite as successful when they were alone together. This look, not unlike the one she'd received when he'd seen her dress last night, was plain, obvious desire.

"Well, what have we here?" he asked with a smirk, his index finger trailing down the neckline of the shirt and stopping just above the first open button, dangerously close to her breast.

Maria's response was delayed by his finger continuing to move downward to brush her sternum. "Oh, well, I woke up and was cold, and this was the closest thing I could reach…" she trailed off, as his finger stopped just above her navel, where the first of the few buttons she'd fastened was. "I hope you don't mind."

"Mind?" He shifted over so he was above her, grinning down at his wife like the devil. "Now, why on earth would I mind waking up to the sight of my beautiful, lovely, charming wife in one of my shirts? It looks far better on you than it could on me." He lowered himself to kiss her and she gasped a bit against his lips at the feel of his arousal pressed against her.

"You know, darling, when you came out wearing that dress last night, I thought you had never looked more enticing to me. And yet, I'm thinking the very same thing right now." He began to resume his path from a few moments prior, kissing a trail from her neck to her collarbone.

She couldn't suppress the whimper that escaped her lips even as she said, "Please, Georg. This shirt is all wrinkled and my hair has got to be a mess-" she gasped again as he pulled the top of his shirt aside and stroked her nipple with his thumb. Her eyes fell closed as he repeated the motion. He had touched her like this countless times over the past three weeks, and yet the sensation or the warmth quickly gathering between her legs never ceased to leave her breathless.

"Yes, that's just it," he murmured. "Don't you see, Maria? Whether you're dressed to the nines, or wearing an old dress the poor didn't want, or in bed in my wrinkled shirt, I'm always captivated by you. And now that I have the privilege of making love to you, well," he gave Maria her favorite lopsided, dimpled smile before shifting his hips against hers. "What is that the book says? Ah, yes- you have bewitched me, body and soul."

Her stomach flipped and she reached up to take her face in his hands and pulled him down to kiss her, quickly losing themselves in a clash of lips and tongues and teeth.

When they broke apart for air, she reached down to unbutton the borrowed shirt, but Georg quickly caught her wrist once he realized her intentions.

"No. Leave it on," he growled, his eyes darker than she'd ever seen them.

She did.

It wasn't until after when she was lying with her head on his chest, the shirt somehow still halfway on that she said, "You know, darling, if I had known putting your shirt would get such a reaction, I would have worn one a long time ago." She giggled and tilted her head back to look up at him.

The corners of her husband's mouth turned up and he leaned down to press his lips to the crown of her head. "Yes, well. For future reference, just know my ties are also yours for the taking."

I hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to share your thoughts.