ON HOLD - A Midsummer Night's Deal - Thomas Shelby x OFC - Peaky Blinders

16.

Enjoyment
1. the state or process of taking pleasure in something.
2.the action of possessing and benefiting from something/someone.

When you're raised as a devout catholic, sometimes the mere thought of enjoying carnal delights is more than enough to set someone in a guilty haze.
On any other day, Leonor would have stopped herself before giving in to temptation, but times had changed and so had she.

So when Thomas Shelby drew her closer, his hand resting on the base of her neck, she was surprised to find she felt strangely calm. Even when his fingers dangerously traced the edge of the thin, scratchy towel, the last barrier between her bare skin and his touch.
The cold tiles under her feet and the distant sound of rain tapping on the window were nothing but details, details she wasn't even aware of anymore.

Her core burned, her cheeks felt like they were on fire and her heart was racing but her mind remained calm.
No racing or second thoughts, just pure emptiness and calmness as he lowered his head and planted a gentle kiss on her collarbone.
Gentle at first.
But as he moved lower and lower, they became more demanding and urgent.

"Here?" he asked, turning her around and bunching up her hair in his fist. The blunt rustle of the towel falling to the floor was almost lost in the soft breeze of the wind against the tree leaves by the window.
Leonor had no time to respond. Her cotton shield had already been yanked away, and she shivered with cold, even though she could feel the heat burning her cheeks and between her legs.
"On this bleak cold bathroom?" Thomas whispered in her ear. She let out a shaky breath when one of his hands laced around her stomach, close to her hip bone while the the other did the sweet favor of releasing her hair, finding its way to her breast, stroking the soft skin first, sending yet another shiver through her body. His touch was both possessive and gentle, a contrast that made her knees weak.

This last one earned a low rumble, still not a full laugh out of him. "No words, eh?" he teased, his breath warm against her ear.

She opened her mouth, finally able to finish a sentence, but was stopped by a loud and rhythmic knock.

"Mr. Astor! The food's here, come get it while it's still hot," the old woman from the front desk called out. Thomas let out a frustrated sigh, his arm still around Leonor, his grip tightening for a moment before releasing her.

Leonor snapped back to reality, urging him to go get the door before the woman decided to enter by her means. The urgency in her eyes mirrored the tension in the air.

"I am hungry," Leonor whispered, wrapping the towel around her torso and stepping away, her voice barely masking the mix of frustration and amusement.

"So am I," Thomas murmured, quickly closing the distance and pulling her towards his chest. "Can't you tell how fucking hungry I am?" he asked, grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles before pulling it down towards his growing need.

"Stop that!" She took a step back, frowning as her chest heaved up and down. Even though she had enjoyed it so far, and probably would have if, in a different setting or timing, Leonor didn't feel like it was right for her wedding consummation to be in such a rush, with an old lady just outside the room, knocking on the door while her husband took her while she was still standing.

Thomas sighed, frustration evident in his eyes as he stepped towards the door. He glanced back at her, his expression softening slightly before he opened it. The old woman stood there with a tray of food, her stern face breaking into a smile.

"Here you go, Mr. Astor. A hot meal for you and your lovely wife."

Thomas replied with a dry and low thank you, his voice tight with restrained impatience. He took the tray, closing the door behind him. The food didn't even look like something Leonor would like, he scoffed at the thought and put it down on the small shaky desk by the fireplace, eager to finish the task he started.