Rhett's hand was steady when it reached out to cup his wife's cheek. Scarlett's pupils dilated until her eyes resembled two deep black pools encircled by only the thinnest of emerald outlines.

'You like that?' he murmured, unable to look away. 'The thought of having me at your mercy?'

'Rhett,' Scarlett moaned, her virginal blushes at odds with the frantic way she kicked off the covers and tugged him against her.

Rhett wrapped her up in his arms, shielding her shivering body from the worst of the late-night chill.

'I think you do like it,' he teased, biting down on the place where her neck met her shoulder before soothing the sore skin with his tongue. 'Tell me, my pet, what is it you plan on doing with me?'

'I'll cover your mouth to keep you from talking nonsense,' Scarlett groused, but Rhett wasn't fooled. The flush in her cheeks assured Rhett that she found his word arousing.

'Come now, Scarlett,' he coaxed, punctuating each sentence by rocking his hips against hers. 'Don't lie. You love it when I talk to you. When I compliment you. When I challenge you. When I-'

'Rhett, please.'

'Please what, darling?'

'Touch me.'

'I am, my love. I'm touching you here,' he kissed her neck, 'and here,' he entwined their fingers, 'and here,' he rocked against her. 'And have I ever told you how much I enjoy touching you right...here?'

Scarlett whimpered, rolling her hips up off the bed to better draw out the sensation. Memories of the previous night assaulted Rhett, and he wondered if he should settle for repeating the encounter, or try to coax her into exploring further.

'What do you want?' he asked again, his voice hoarser now that he could feel the soft heat of her pressing against him through his trousers.

By way of response, Scarlett let go of his hands and twisted her fingers into his hair, pulling him away from her neck and towards her waiting mouth. The kiss they shared was frenetic and sloppy, their teeth clanging together awkwardly until Rhett took control and steered them back to calmer shores.

'What do you want, Scarlett?'

He accompanied his question with a sly roll of his hips, watching as the first stirrings of pleasure stole across Scarlett's face, her eyes fluttering shut as her mouth dropped open to form a perfect, crimson circle.

'Do you want it to be like last night?' he asked, slowly increasing the pressure of his rocking. 'If you want that, you can have it, my pet. I'll give it to you now, all you have to do is ask.'

Seeing that an affirmation was close to the tip of her tongue, Rhett could not help but push his luck a little. 'Or, if you're feeling brave enough, my dear, we could try something different.'

He knew it wasn't fair of him to dare her into walking further down a path that over twenty years of rigid teaching had made her think was visited only by whores and scallywags. If it was only for his own enjoyment, then he would not have baited her so. Red-blooded though he was, Rhett would not risk hurting her to sate his desires.

As it was, Rhett was convinced that Scarlett only needed a little more encouragement to finally break free of her remaining fears and embrace their love making wholeheartedly. From the way Scarlett's brows rushed together, Rhett knew she had read the challenge in his tone. Watching her closely, he followed the struggle between what she wanted and what she had been taught was proper as it played itself out across her face.

Sensing her rising panic, Rhett was quick to offer her a reprieve. Running his fingers across her forehead to smooth away her frown, he kept his voice carefully devoid of anything that could be misconstrued as criticism.

'Don't fret so, darling. There is no rush. If it means we get to do this every night, then feel free to deliberate over the decision forever.'

Meaning to kiss away her anxiety, Rhett paused when Scarlett's lips turned cold and unresponsive beneath his own. Fearing he had overplayed his hand and now stood to lose the entire pot, Rhett rushed to reassure her, 'I am sorry if you thought I was pushing you, Scarlett. I did not mean to. Holding you close like this, being able to touch you...it causes me to lose control of myself sometimes, that is all.'

When she did not speak, Rhett felt cold panic take up residence in his heart.

'Scarlett?' he questioned, not daring to look at her for fear of what he might find.

'No.'

'No?'

'No,' she repeated, her voice sounding dreadfully resolute to Rhett's ears.

'Scar-'

'I don't want to do what I...I mean, what we did last night. I want to try something different.'

Stunned by her assertion, Rhett could only parrot mindlessly, 'Something different?'

'Yes,' Scarlett nodded, her own resolve appearing to strengthen in the face of Rhett's hesitancy. 'I'm not some yellow-bellied coward, Rhett. I'm braver than Mamie and Sylvia and Bridget put together, and I won't have you mollycoddling me like a child anymore!'

Pausing but a moment to wonder where exactly Scarlett's three cronies fit into this situation, Rhett was overcome with pride at his wife's spirited outburst. He knew only too well that, were you to scour the length and breadth of the country, you would not find another woman who would answer him as Scarlett had. Since his wedding day, Rhett had felt the occasional regret at having so willingly traded in the freedoms of his bachelordom for the tedious constraints of married life, but those fierce words, as spoken by a woman as enchanting and infuriating as Scarlett, finally succeeding in quashing every last one.

She was it for him. Of that, there could be no further doubt. His love for her put other men's affairs to shame for their pitiful, pale dalliances could no more measure up against his adoration for Scarlett than a back-broken old mule could hope to compete with an award-winning, thorough-bred of a stallion. Determined to do everything in his power to make her feel the same, Rhett vowed to devout the next few hours to patiently driving her to unimagined heights. His own desire no longer mattered. Tonight, his focus would be on her and her alone.

'It was never my intention to treat you like a child, Scarlett,' he answered truthfully. 'But you're right, you are without doubt the bravest woman I have ever known and it is about time that I stopped trying to shield you from certain experiences.'

Rhett's eyes glinted as Scarlett preened at his words of praise. The devil in him that lived to goad her longed to add that there was a whole range of other words he could have used to describe her in that particular sentence, 'selfish' and 'stubborn-headed' being chief amongst them, but - wisely judging that such a tactic was unlikely to help his cause - he decided to hold his tongue just this once.

Returning his attention to the woman before him, he cupped Scarlett's breasts through the thin fabric of her nightgown, sliding his hands downwards until his fingers caught in the garment's hem. No sooner had he begun to lift it, than Scarlett stiffened in his embrace, her hands jerking down to clasp his.

'Don't,' she ordered, cheeks aflame, as she hastily pushed it back down.

For a moment Rhett thought to argue the point, wondering how the same woman who had just asked to be shown more could, mere seconds later, turn around and refuse to take off her nightgown. His wife had always been a woman of multiple, often maddening, contradictions though, and this, it seemed, was to be no exception.

Small steps, he reminded himself, letting go of her nightgown without a fight.

Trailing his fingers back up, Rhett made idle, swirling patterns across the silken fabric as he pondered how best to proceed, teasing over the flat of Scarlett's stomach and along her sides, from armpit to hip. His hands coming to rest upon her impossibly small waist, he squeezed lightly before cautiously moving up to caress the underside of her breasts, fully expecting her to push him away. When no such rebuff came, he let his fingers linger, listening to Scarlett's breathing as it ebbed and flowed like the tide. His thumbs inched upwards with every stuttered inhale until they met the hardened peaks of her nipples.

Circling them with the lightest of touches, Rhett used her gasps and stilted moans to guide him. A few minutes of enthusiastic study were enough to teach him that firm rubs caused long, drawn-out sighs, and flicking an unhappy flinch, while gentle, playful pinches brought forth reluctant, almost guttural groans. It was when he lowered his mouth to her breast that he knew he had struck gold, his lips and tongue unleashing sounds he had not known his wife was capable of making. Judging from her wide-eyed expression, they were a revelation to Scarlett too.

His mouth occupied, Rhett snaked his hand back down the length of her torso, slipping past the bottom of her nightgown and tangling itself up her slick, black curls. Stroking her quietly as one would a nervous and easily spooked animal, Rhett let the tip of his middle finger edge lower, hovering over warm, damp flesh until it bumped against a place that made Scarlett jerk as if stung and bolt upright on the bed.

Thrown backwards by the force, Rhett found himself kneeling up on the mattress, his wife's flushed and furious face mere inches from his own.

'How dare you!' she cried, her heavy panting drawing Rhett's eyes down to where the moistened fabric around her breasts was rising and falling hypnotically with every laboured breath. 'If that's your idea of 'something different' then I want no part in it! You're a cad, Rhett Butler, that's what you are, corrupting-'

'Shh, Scarlett. There's nothing indecent in what we just did.'

'We?' she shrieked. 'It was you! I don't know why I even let you touch me!'

'Because I'm your husband and the law says I can touch you in any damn way I see fit, that's why,' he growled, his patience wearing thin. The continual advances and retreats that characterised their couplings were driving him to distraction and he did not know how much more he could take. It was beyond frustrating to think he was finally making headway only to have every slim victory snatched away at the very next turn.

Rhett regretted his outburst the moment it left his mouth. Scarlett scrambled back towards the headboard as if she was afraid that he would try to claim his martial rights right then and there. He would never take her against her will, surely she must know that? Yet, the fear in her eyes told its own, ugly story. Sagging under the weight of this unwelcome revelation, Rhett reached out and drew Scarlett onto his lap, ignoring her initial protests as he wrapped his arms around her shaking form and cradled her close to his chest.

'Shh, honey. It's alright,' he whispered into her tumbled curls. 'I won't hurt you, my pet. I only want to make you feel good. You did feel good last night, didn't you, Scarlett?'

The minute it took Scarlett to answer was the longest of Rhett's life. The relief that poured through him when she nodded was immeasurable, his answering smile so bright it threatened to set the entire room ablaze.

'That's all I was trying to make you feel when I touched you just now, Scarlett. Nothing else.'

He spent the next few minutes rocking her back and forth, listening to her heartbeat slow as he inhaled the comforting scent of her lemon verbena perfume. The kiss, when it came, was small and hesitant and wholly unexpected, Scarlett twisting her body around until they faced each other and pecking him softly on the lips.

Taking heart, Rhett deepened the kiss, leisurely lapping at her mouth until it parted to let him in. Rhett felt Scarlett surrender, her body melting against his chest as her legs curled around his waist. Abandoning his earlier, half-formed plans to draw her out of her shell, Rhett decided that what they both needed most was to draw comfort and pleasure from each other's bodies in the oldest way known to man.

Laying Scarlett down on the mattress, he stood up and undressed. Bared to the night and Scarlett's heavy-lidded gaze, Rhett reached down and stroked himself to the sight of his wife waiting for him in their marital bed. His eyes slipped shut as he gave himself over to the motion, tightening his fist as he hardened. Dropping his hand, Rhett climbed back into bed. Bringing Scarlett up into a passionate kiss, he poured his soul into every quirk of his lips and twist of his tongue, prostrating himself before her in a way he was confident she would not be able to read.

He felt Scarlett rub against his thigh as he kissed her and his chest constricted at her newfound boldness. His wife's quickening pulse and rougher, almost aggressive writhing told him that she was falling fast and, not wanting to break the momentum, he positioned himself over her and moved inside, his hips picking up the rhythm that hers had worked to establish.

Enclosed in her heat, Rhett's thrusts faltered. He fought to regain control, refusing to let the evening come to a swift and unsatisfactory end. Biting the inside of his cheek until the bitter, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, Rhett forced himself to concentrate on his wife's pleasure rather than his own. Not daring to use his hand on her a second time, Rhett pushed up higher on his forearms until he heard Scarlett cry out and dig her fingernails into his biceps.

Emboldened by her response, Rhett lowered his head and mouthed helplessly at her jaw, his every muscle straining as he fought to keep his movements shallow and sure. Scarlett's throaty moans filled his ear and sent his own pleasure spiralling. Reaching down, Rhett cupped the backs of Scarlett's thighs in his hands and spread them wider, sending both of their heart rates soaring.

'Rhett,' she gasped, calling out his name like it was the only thing capable of saving her.

The sound sent thousands of tiny sparks shooting through Rhett's body and he had to battle against his own need for release, moving Scarlett harder and faster against him as he silently begged her to finish. He flinched when her hands raked across his bare back, clawing up his spine and winding themselves in the hair of his nape. Blindly, he felt her tug at his head until he turned it towards her. Breathless, panting kisses passed back and forth until Rhett pulled back and groaned her name.

'Scarlett.'

Whether it was his voice or his touch that did it, Rhett would never know. Scarlett seized up. A high-pitched cry left her lips and her muscles clenched savagely around the length of him. Trapped in her heavenly embrace, Rhett felt his own release being wrenched from deep inside, white light flashing across his vision and sending him falling down on top of his wife.

He lay there without moving for what felt like an eternity, neither willing nor able to roll away. He would happily have stayed there forever if Scarlett hadn't started wriggling, his weight becoming too much for her slender frame to bear. Gathering what little energy he had left, Rhett moved away, stretching out a hand to pull Scarlett along with him when he flipped over onto his back. Rhett reached down and pulled up the sheets.

Rhett sighed in contentment when he felt Scarlett's head work its way into the warm space between his shoulder and neck, deciding that the irritating tickle of her cool breath was a small price to pay to have her sleep so near.

'Was that 'different' enough for you, my pet?' he teased, chuckling into the darkness as he stroked his cheek against her silken hair.

Rhett laughed harder when Scarlett slapped his chest in reprimand. Catching her hand, he kissed each fingertip in turn, overcome by a rush of affection for his bride.

'Sleep well, my dear,' he crooned. 'For tomorrow we start planning our crush.'