Five Minutes Alone With You

ch 1 : on the terrace at the ball

Daphne could remember no part of her day. From the moment she had woken up, to the very point of standing at the top of the stairs, nothing came to mind. There had to have been breakfast, and tea, and there was a dress appointment, and a ride to the ball, but the only thing she could remember was the feeling of her fingers sliding between her folds, touching a part of her body that she had never before explored, and thinking of Simon. Thinking of him touching her. Not there , of course, but-

Each time their hands touched, although through her gloves. The way his fingers brushed at her back, the top of her dress as he held her close. She thought about the way he looked at her when they spoke, as though he truly saw her. She thought about how close they would dance, when he held her body close to his. She thought about the tingles and tumbles that went through her belly when she was in his presence, so similar to the tingles and tumbles she had felt as her fingers moved through the slickness, how her body had felt on the edge, much like when his eyes locked onto hers, and the little breaths-

He stole her breath with his mere presence. It was impossible to ignore any longer. It was not love, of that she could be certain, because love between them was impossible - he was rude, a rake, a womanizer, a-

He saw her, he looked right into her soul and he knew her, knew what she wanted in a husband, what she wanted in her life, and he listened to her when she talked about it, about what she did not know and what she wished, and he-

It was not love. She did not know what love was, but it could not be this. No, this was lust. It had to be. He had bewitched her, somehow, and now all she craved was his presence once more, his eyes upon her, being held in his arms...

She had missed their standing lunch appointment, which her mother had cancelled on her behalf, citing that Daphne had looked unwell. They had been to meet for ice cream again, which always brought a new set of desire as she watched him enjoy every bite, but it had given her time to breathe, to rest in her rooms all afternoon.

She had considered touching herself once more, but... she had already done it three times the night before, each one more unimaginable than the last. She had touched herself until her fingers cramped and she had had to change her nightgown from how damp the fabric felt on her skin, and come the morning, she had hidden the extra nightgown, which she had used to wipe the inside of her legs.

She did not want to explain that to her mother. Not even slightly.

Fluttering her fan in front of her, Daphne tried to ignore how her skin burned as she looked out into the room. Simon was there, his eyes on her, as he stood near Lady Danbury. She licked her lips, remembering the way he had licked the spoon a few weeks past, and imagined him licking her like that, her lips, her fingers, her skin even? She did not fully understand what occured in the marriage bed, still, but now...

The possibilities were endless. She wanted to ask more, to learn from him, to press until he told her everything, but the thought of asking him what came next, now that she knew how it began... She felt faint once more.

"If you are unwell, we can return home," her mother said beside her.

Turning to look at her mama, Daphne shook her head, then took another deep breath in. She should be thinking about other things, like finding the husband that would actually do such things to her... except, what if he did not? It had taken some time to find that perfect spot, and what if her husband had no interest in such things? Now that she knew it existed, how could she ignore it?

The Prince stood at the foot of the stairs, but Daphne barely acknowledged him with more than a polite nod, walking with her mother towards Lady Danbury. She ignored Simon as she smiled at her mother's friend, fanning herself as she did so, and then finally, allowed her eyes to look towards the Duke, who was looking at her with some concern.