Five Minutes Alone With You

ch 7 : in their marriage bed

Daphne stared up at her husband, letting the words float between them. She wanted him. She wanted to be with him. She simply wanted to be with him. To exist, to have time, to touch and talk and discuss - she wanted a life of together, where she could touch him and kiss him. She wanted to know him, to know his touch on instinct alone, to know what it felt like to have his arms wrapped around her, to spend hours on end just touching for the sake of touching, wanted to feel this night with his body wrapped around hers.

Children... they would come with time, and before then, Daphne would learn to be a wife. Yes, a Duchess, but more his wife. She wanted to learn Simon's favorite foods, what songs he enjoyed, the books he read, even how he liked the bed turned down, or the strength of the fireplace. She wanted to know the intimate things, and wanted to learn all the things about him that would make her love him more, make her choose to love him over and over again.

The hand running up and down her back had stilled with her words, but then, Simon was tightening his grip on her, his hand sliding around her back to her hip, grasping her body fully against his. They were both naked once more, the blankets having fallen to the floor during their discussion, and she suddenly blushed, realizing she could feel him against her stomach, the length of it beginning to harden.

His eyes left hers, and she realized he was looking at her mouth, her own eyes moving to his. He kissed her hard, his grip on her hip tightening until her legs were almost trying to tangle with his, although they did not lift from the floor. Her arms went around his shoulders, the tips of her fingers digging into his skin, and she gasped as his kiss moved to her jaw, her neck, and down to her collar bone.

From there, he continued, open mouthed kisses going towards the top of her breasts, and then lower, catching a nipple within his mouth. She had not known that she could have so much pleasure from a mouth upon her skin, an immediately pleasant shockwave from his touch going straight from her breast to between her legs. One breast was left abandoned as he went towards the other, the cool air making the point harden after his warm mouth.

Back and forth he went, lapping and sucking at each point, until Daphne thought she might lose her mind. She tried to catch his lips in a kiss, but instead they went back to her skin, at her collar bone, her neck, below her ear, and then at her hairline.

"Please, allow me to take down your hair," he whispered into her ear, and Daphne was powerless to stop herself as she nodded, a moan escaping her as his lips parted and he open-mouthed kissed at her neck again. "Let me feel it run through my fingers, I beg of you."

"Yes," she gasped, her eyes finally falling closed as she allowed herself to get lost in the feeling and touch of her husband. He was overwhelming her, consuming her, and she was powerless to do anything but simply enjoy his presence... and his touch.

His mouth left her skin, and then he was turning her body away from his, his hands sliding down from her shoulders where he had grasped and spun her, down her breasts, to her hips, over the tops of her legs... one hand slid between her thighs and she arched her back in response, gasping as her shoulders pressed into his chest. His mouth returned to her skin, sucking at her neck, and she nearly fainted as his fingers found the sensitive nub hidden in between her legs.

"Simon-"

"I know, I know my love, but I cannot stop myself from touching you," he groaned into her ear.

Still, his hands left her body, and she tried to not shiver from the cold as her eyes opened and she felt his hands on her hair.

He removed each pin, each comb, slowly but surely. He seemed to take great pleasure in it, as much as he had when he had undressed her, and when another section of hair fell, he would run his fingers over it, as though checking there were no tangles. She tried to keep from moaning as the last pin was removed and her hair fell around her shoulders, but it was impossible when the pads of his fingers pressed into her scalp, soothing from where the pens had earlier been pulling.