“Your taste…” He spoke into her neck, making her shiver. “It’s irresistible.”
“I think it’s the chocolate.”
“I think it’s you.”
She looked at him, realizing for the first time how close they were. His hand brushed her cheek before settling on her neck as he looked up at her with hooded eyes. Mesmerized, she felt herself drawn forward.
“Do you really think it’s me?”
“I know it’s you. No one else would taste so sweet.”
His lips brushed against hers and she closed her eyes as he gently brought her closer. Her hands on his chest, she felt his heartbeat through the thin cotton of his shirt as it started to race and match the pace of her own. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands moving up her back before tugging on the shoulder of her nightgown and drawing it down to expose more of her skin. She closed her eyes tightly, tension starting to coil in the pit of her stomach as his lips moved down to her neck and then to her shoulder where he kissed the goosebumps that appeared from the cold air. When he moved further down and she felt his lips dangerously close to her breast, she tried her best not to whimper.
Her breaths shallow, they hitched as his hand slid down the curves of her body and settled on her upper thigh. She could feel her face growing warm as his touch drifted to the soft, inner skin of her legs and his hand nearly brushed her quim but she made no move to object. Even as he looked up at her, quietly giving her an opportunity to push him away, she remained silent as best as her uneven breaths would let her as she looked at the shirt she had rumpled and the hair she had mussed and the high she had given him as he stared at her in a sort of light she had never really known she had wanted to be looked at with.
She let him taste again the sweetness he craved. Gently touching his face, she loosely wrapped her arms around his neck as he held her by her hips. The hem of her gown rode up and a moan slipped out as the cold air licked at her wetness. His grip tightened at her voice, and as they both gasped for breath, he struggled to speak.
“Forgive me.” He leaned his forehead on her shoulder. “But you tempt me so terribly well, I… Still, it is no excuse. My apologies for any harm I may have inflicted upon you.”
He looked at her, his wife, as she sat in his lap. He could see her bosom poking through the thin fabric of her chemise and the way the nightgown hung off a shoulder, very nearly exposing more of her soft, creamy skin and the small marks he had left on her with his playful nipping, and oh, God he could still remember the warmth from her quim and the dampness of and how soft her tongue was and the immeasurable pleasure he had felt just from that one simple moan…
All too aware of how tight his breeches were, he tugged her nightgown up so that it resumed its original position on her shoulder. Brushing her hair over her shoulders, he glanced up at her only to be surprised to see disappointment flashing in her eyes. Disappointment? Had…had she wanted him to continue? Hadn’t he hurt her by holding her that tightly? But he thought he had; there were the small bruises on her neck and shoulder, the imprint of his fingernails on her hips… Wasn’t it right to stop?
He watched her squirm and fidget until she accidentally – accidentally? – brushed up against him and he imagined for a split second what it would have felt like if there hadn’t been any cloth separating them. His heart hammering in his chest and his blood rushing (not necessarily to his face), the prince desperately flailed for some form of etiquette.
“Is…Do you think perhaps it would be best if we went to bed? I do believe it’s getting late, and we’ve had quite a long day.”
“Will you be able to sleep if we go to bed now?”
Hardly. He tried to crack a smile. A grimace appeared instead.
“…I don’t think I’ll be able to either,” she murmured.
“No, I suppose not,” he replied faintly. His face turned as dark as his ears when she shifted forward before sliding back down to where she was sitting before in his lap as he felt his pants grow even tighter. Sweating, he covered his eyes. Good God, he didn’t know if she was doing it on purpose or if it had been on accident, but whatever it was, it needed to stop before he really lost control. He could already feel his composure unraveling as her forlorn sigh tickled his neck.
“Shall I call for another pot of chocolate?”
“N-no,” he choked. The last thing he wanted was any of the servants to see him like this. It was difficult enough keeping up this façade in front of her; God knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain it in front of one of the ladies-in-waiting.
“…But I should like to change. My chemise has gotten a little damp, and it’s rather uncomfortable to wear. Perhaps it would be for the best if I returned—”
He spoke so forcefully it surprised even the speaker. No, no, no… He groaned to himself. Closing his eyes had been the wrong choice. It had only amplified her sighs, her thoughtful humming, and his imagination as it tumbled through images of his wife dressed in a chemise so wet, it stuck to her body and then of his wife undressing and then of his wife sitting in his lap, her nightgown pooled around her waist as she crossed her arms to hide her bare… What?
She pulled a hand away from her chastity and touched his cheek. “Mon cheri, you gave me nothing but excitement and pleasure. Just as I would like to do for you.”
Speechless, he could only blink as she untucked his shirt.
“Will you help me repay you?”
“…Is that what you truly desire?”
“More than anything.”
“Then I shan’t stand as an obstacle any longer.”
And he did his best to make good on his word.