Our arrival in Paris was not the most elegant. We were riding in the first class car of the boat train from Cherbourg of course, but when we rolled into the station I had to be roused from where I had been drowsing against Will's shoulder and there was a slight damp spot on his coat where it appeared I had drooled. I immediately began to apologize and try to rub it dry with my handkerchief. "Will, why didn't you wake me? Oh, I'm so sorry."
"I've been exhausting you." He leaned over, kissing the top of my head. "And besides, it's hardly the worst thing to have been on my coat. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't let my wife get her sleep?"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Still, that was hardly ladylike of me." Will kept a hand on my arm as he guided me through the train station, a porter following with Reggie and Louise, as well as the massive cart holding our trunks. I had to admit, I did like Paris, even if I couldn't understand a word of French. Will seemed to know a bit, at least enough to flag down a taxi and get us on our way to our hotel. Fortunately the staff at the hotel spoke English, especially the concierge who greeted me with a bow. "Hello, we're the Murdoch party? We should have a suite reserved, as well as rooms for our staff."
He nodded, busying himself for a moment before passing over a brass key. "Of course, Ma'am, and may I offer my personal congratulations to both of you on this happy occasion." Judging by his smile, he knew exactly why we were here. "I've seen that a bottle of champagne will be waiting for both of you in your rooms, and if you have need of anything, my staff will be more than happy to help." He gave us a brief run through of everything the hotel offered, as well as directions to our rooms. With the hotel staff seeing to the storage of our trunks, Reggie and Louise joined us in the wrought iron elevator as the operator started us up.
"Fifth floor, servants rooms are to the left." The operator intoned as he stopped the lift, "Suites are to the right. Enjoy your stay." The doors shut quickly behind us, the elevator gliding back down to the lower floors.
Will looked over to Reggie and Louise. "Take the night off, we'll be able to manage."
"Of course, sir." Reggie nodded, but he lingered. "What time should we arrive in the morning?"
"I think ten should suffice." I squeezed Will's arm. "We'll be going out that day and returning in the afternoon to prepare for the ballet."
Louise smirked at that. "I shall see that everything is prepared for tomorrow." Part of me was mortified by her teasing, as if it was a negative that I enjoyed bedding Will and wanted to engage in it as often as I could, but a larger part of me didn't care. Married people enjoyed each other in the bedroom, why should I feel shame over it? Indeed, just by Will's hand moving to my waist and pulling me a bit closer to him as we reached our room, I could feel the excitement building in me. It was never far away it seemed, the idea that Will was so enraptured by me that he could hardly contain himself.
"Ah, this is lovely." I murmured as we entered our suite, a sitting room furnished in the Louis XVI style greeted us. Everything was delicate and floral, and the promised champagne was waiting in a silver bucket of ice. Two glittering crystal flutes waited by it, and Will had them quickly filled. With flute in hand, I opened the door between two potted palms, revealing a balcony that overlooked the city. I looked over my shoulder, "Are you going to join me?"
Will grumbled as he stepped, "At least I feel like I won't break the chairs out here." He gestured to the iron furniture on the balcony. "I swear, is it such a difficulty for them to supply furniture that doesn't feel like it will fall apart if I look at it wrong?"
"You're too used to ships, my love." I sighed, looking out over the city. Paris truly was a beautiful city, with the sunlight gleaming against the Seine and the Eiffel Tower rising up in the distance. The various parks that I could see were green and blooming, people strolling along in the late afternoon sun. The streets were crowded with traffic, mothers walking hand in hand with children as they came back from the market, cars and carriages negotiating their way through and everywhere, everywhere were artists showing off their pieces to people on the street, trying to earn a bit of money for dinner. I let my eyes linger on them, "We should keep an eye out for some paintings, I'm sure we can find places for them."
"Mmm," Will sighed after sipping his champagne. "Don't we have enough of those?"
"One should always look for more, after all one day they may be worth something."
"Ah, so you just see them as an investment."
"Well, they're also pretty." I giggled a bit, "And besides, that it one of the pastimes of New York society. Which you are a part of now."
"Don't remind me." He sank onto the iron bench, "Sometimes I want nothing more than to jump on one of the ships and sail off to China or Japan, just for a break from them." He took a healthy swallow from his flute. "You can't wear a straw hat after such and such date, no white clothes after this month, such stupid rules and it inevitable leads to endless gossip.
I settled next to him, sipping my champagne. "So you don't enjoy eating caviar and drinking champagne all day?" I leaned a bit closer, whispering in his ear. "Or making love to your incredibly rich wife?"
His arm snaked around my waist. "You know I enjoy that." He buried his face in the crook of my shoulder, kissing any skin he could get at. I laughed as he did, although I still when he groaned into my ear. "It's my favorite part, in fact," He stood, setting his flute aside and leaning down. I helpfully arranged myself to where he could lift me easily, wrapping an arm around his neck. Will grinned as he hefted me in his arms. "It's what makes it all bearable. Now, should we see if we can manage to break the bed?"
The bed had managed to survive the night, just barely. I had fallen into an exhausted sleep after even our best attempts had hardly put a dent in it, awoken only when I could smell some kind of breakfast had arrived in the sitting room. Considering that our clothing had been discarded into various piles on the floor, I pulled a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around myself. Will, with a towel from the bathroom around his waist and his hair still slightly wet from his washing, had already sat down and started in on a plate of kippers. He raised an eyebrow as I walked in, "You could leave the blanket off you know, I wouldn't mind."
"If I let it go, you'd take me back to bed." I muttered as I grabbed a plate of bacon. "And we do have some things to do today."
"What is this bloody ballet you're taking us to?" He grabbed a grilled tomato. "And why is it so important?"
"The Rites of Spring," I moved onto a fried egg. "Apparently the audience practically rioted the night it premiered, so it should be good." The rest of the meal was consumed quietly, although I managed to make Will splutter for a moment when I let my blanket fall from my shoulders. I cocked my head as I smirked at him, "What?"
"How long until Reggie and Louise get here?" He started reaching for the towel, his eyes dark.
I stretched my arms up, "A little under an hour." I grinned as he took a deep breath, "Do you think you can be that quick?"
"I'm not the one who takes so long." He stood, the towel falling away as he moved around the table. I left the blanket on the chair, laughing as I darted toward the bedroom. He caught me quickly, tumbling me onto the bed. I was squealing as he peppered my face with kisses, hands squeezing and pulling me tight to him. True to his word, he wasn't taking very long to get ready as I wrapped a leg around his waist. He groaned as I began to rock my hips against his, "God, Ana. Agh, I can't take it much longer."
"Then take me Will," I breathed into his ear, pressing against him even further. "Just be quick about it." I was the one groaning as he sank into me, stretching me until he could go no further. I sighed as he began to stroke, slowly at first as he settled into a rhythm. He moved faster as I matched it though, his breathing heavy as he reared back to look down at me. I was panting as he did so, my hands winding around his shoulders and tugging him back down. I liked his weight on me, like he was trying to touch as much of me as possible. I wanted that, I wanted to feel as much of him as I could, wrapping both my legs around his waist and crying out. "Harder Will, oh God, harder!"
"Ana, agh." He groaned, thrusting harder, enough to make the bed begin to squeak loudly as he did so. I clutched him to me, my muscles cramping and even my legs all of sudden tightening as I felt myself on the edge of pleasure. In the end, we met our pleasure together, both of us panting and sweat covered as he finished. He pressed a kiss to my cheek, "Mo bhean bhòidheach." I chuckled, not even sure of what he meant. I was quite sure of what he yelled next though, hearing the knocking at the door of the sitting room. "Marbhaidh mi thu, a bhalaich!"
Reggie's voice, faint through the door, called out. "I'm sorry sit, but it's ten. We're to get you ready to go out. Please open the door." That set off a new set of grumbling from Will as he got off me, searching for his shirt and trousers as he kept up his stream of Gaelic. I took a moment to collect myself before scrambling for my chemise and darting into the bathroom.
Reggie seemed to take the cursing in stride as he wrangled Will into the sitting room to get him ready while Louise knocked on the door to the bathroom. "Mrs. Murdoch? Are you ready to dress?"
"Yes, just a moment." I quickly patted myself down with a towel, trying to control myself. I opened the door, noting the smirk on her face. "Alright, Louise, I'm ready."
Louise couldn't help herself. "Mr. Murdoch seemed quite angry when Reggie knocked, any reason for it?"
"I imagine he simply wanted to lounge about a bit longer." I accepted the underclothes she was holding out, slipping around the bathroom door to pull them on.
Louise held a corset out around the edge of the door, and she didn't let up as I hooked it on. "Surely being denied five more minutes in bed doesn't require such a response, unless, of course, someone else was in that bed with him?"
I paused for a moment, the busk halfway done. "Louise, you do know we are married. It's not that strange."
"No, it's not." I could tell she was smiling just from her tone. "Although it's rather fascinating how absorbed in you he is."
"Well, I would rather have husband who wants to stay in my bed rather than look for another." I grumbled, finishing the busk and stepping out. "Wouldn't you?"
"Oh yes, now, let me tighten you up." Her swift, sure, and strong fingers quickly had me properly turned out for a Paris day, and I quickly moved to the door to the sitting room. Will, in a lovely pinstripe and with the gold chain of his pocket watch shining against his greatcoat, was already waiting. Reggie was grinning far too much for my liking, and I caught a look that he gave Louise. It made me huff at the both of them as we set out from the suite.
"What shall we do today, my love?" Will asked as we stepped out of the hotel, the morning air warm and sultry, if rather scented with the Seine.
I smiled as I wound my fingers around his arm. "Well, I thought we might climb the tower." I pointed to the shining iron structure, visible even past the building around us. "That is, if you're brave enough."
"Hmmm," Will considered it for a moment. "You know it's taller than the Olympic, right?"
"Afraid you're too tired?"
He snorted. "Hardly, let's head for it." It was rather easy to navigate our way to the Champ de Mars, one could see the tower everywhere. Already a crowd was gathered around to ascend, some ignoring the elevators in favor of climbing stairs up the great structure. Will shook his head at that, "We can climb a bit, but not the whole thing. Bloody foolish if you ask me."
"And yet you used to walk decks almost as long as the tower is tall." I teased as we moved further along in the line. "Perhaps you're getting soft, I should send you down to help the firemen on our way back."
He chuckled. "I'm sure Cunard would love that." It only took a short while for the line to maneuver us into the elevator, which took us upward at an angle. But even an elevator could not take us all the way up, and we actually did have to climb a set of stairs for the last bit. Will grinned as I took my time on them. "Perhaps you're the one that should assist the firemen?"
"Or perhaps you shouldn't exhaust me in the morning." I grumbled, although I did take his hand to gain the last bit of it. I couldn't help the gasp as I looked out over the sprawl of Paris. Old palaces that had been turned into museums, monuments that stretched across the city. It seemed like every street corner had some statue or marble marker, some piece of history memorialized there. I couldn't help the sigh. "Oh my, Will, isn't it beautiful?"
"Yes," I felt his arm wind around my waist. "It is."
"I refuse, it's bad enough I'm to be in tails." Will grumbled as Reggie proffered the top hat toward him yet again. "I'd rather not look an entire bloody fool tonight."
"Mr. Murdoch, everyone at the theater will be wearing them. You'll look a fool if you don't." Reggie again pressed it into his hands. "I only want you to fit in." Will grudgingly took the hat, he'd carry it but he would be damned if he put the fool thing on his head. It was bad enough that he was in tails tonight, although thank God they were just swallowtails and not those ones that some men wore that curled. Reggie appeared to accept him taking the hat as a victory. "Thank you sir, I'll let Louise know so that the missus can join you."
"Tell them not to hurry." Will grumbled as he opened the balcony doors, his pipe in hand. This whole business with the ballet just smacked of foolishness to him. Spending all this time to get dressed, not to mention the money for the tickets, he would have been content with simply taking Ana to a vaudeville performance. Rather than this dancing, which he wouldn't even get to do, he would rather go dancing with her than watching those ballerinas mince around the stage. Spinning Ana around in a rag, her laughing and stumbling into him as they made it off the dance floor, hell that sounded far more preferable to sitting around and watching. He snorted to himself as he struck a match, bringing it to his pipe and setting it to smolder.
It wasn't that he disliked this, he liked seeing Ana enjoying these things. Her face as she gazed out over Paris, the way she had practically inhaled the pastries they had gotten after climbing down the tower, it made it worth the foolishness. Even though she had spent what seemed like hours paging through the various watercolors and oil paintings at a market that some artists frequented, he'd enjoyed helping her sort through pictures and telling her what he though. He liked listening to her describe the attributes of various pieces, even if he didn't quite get all the terms she used. She'd bought five, all relating to the sea in some way.
Will did have to admit that he did like the one of a clipper ship cresting through a wave as the sun broke through the clouds.
But still, he wished that sometimes they could just stay in. He knew that it would be a change for him, marrying a lady like her after being a bachelor again, but he hadn't figured it would be so much. At least she wasn't stuck up, not with how often the Fields came over. And he knew she would talk to all he crews, from officers to firemen and greasers. She didn't dismiss them, she spoke to them as if they were friends.
He took another pull on the pipe, holding the smoke for a moment before slowly letting it out. Will supposed that deep down, he was a simple man. He wanted a house for his family, a wife that loved him, some children from that marriage, and a job that kept him financially stable. He would have been content with that, and when he was with Ada, he had been. He had always told her that the children would come in time, but that he had all he ever really wanted here. But then, after she had passed, all he had was his house and his job.
And that had been enough, for a time. He'd courted a few other women after Ada, but his heart had never been in it and he'd stopped. It was too painful, he always wound up comparing them to Ada, but then there was Ana. Bright, beautiful, smart Ana. And suddenly, there wasn't any pain in it. She'd been a pleasure to be around, and he was glad that they'd ended up here, married. He wanted to grow old with her, to have a whole brood of children, a family. And if marrying Ana came with some of this foolishness, well, he supposed he could deal with it. He could deal with the valet and the servants, the mansion that so many called 'humble', the fine food and drink. So long as she didn't expect him to become a complete fop, he would be glad with what he had.
"Will?" Her voice sounded, and he looked over to the balcony door. He was happy with her, especially with her looking like that. She was wearing the dress from the Reichster party, all tight navy silk that left hardly anything to the imagination. Sapphires glittered on her chest and in her hair, flashing on her wrists as she waved a hand through the smoke. He let his eyes linger on her, the long fall of her skirt, the swell of her breasts over the neckline of her dress. She blew out a breath, "Are you ready?"
Oh, he was ready to do unspeakable things to her tonight. "I suppose, if we must."
"Such a grouch." She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile to her words. "Don't forget your hat." Stamping out his pipe and leaving it on a table, Will clapped the blasted thing on his head. The hotel had already arranged for a taxi to take them to the theater, and Will quickly handed her up into it. The driver started off, the two of them in the back, his hat off so he could actually fit in the car. He sighed as he settled against the bench, looking over at his wife. God, she really was a beauty, her shining hair and fair skin, those deep brown eyes. She seemed to notice his attentions. "See something you like?"
"You know I do." He muttered, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She smelled of Florida water, all oranges and summer nights. He enjoyed it enough to let his nose linger, breathing her in. "I had no idea you brought that dress."
"Yes, well," Her voice was rather faint, a slight hitch to it. "I remembered how much you liked it, and by Paris fashions this is a modest gown. You'll see some ladies-" Her voice stuttered to a stop as he let one hand slip around her shoulders to pull her close, his other hand dancing across her thighs. He cursed the gloves he was wearing, wishing that he could feel her skin. She let out a shaky breath, "Will, not here."
"I can't admire my wife?" He questioned, nuzzling her neck.
She let out a sigh, leaning into his touch. "What about the driver?"
"He's focused on the road." Will grinned into her skin. "And besides, like you said, it's Paris. I'm sure he's seen much worse." Not that he intended to seduce her in the taxi, she was worth more than that. But in that dress, God, he wanted to do so much with her in that dress. Especially after the last time she had worn it. He'd never wanted to kill a man before, but seeing her forced down onto that desk, her face stained with tears as her skirts were bunched up around her, he'd felt like nothing but murder would solve it. Just the mere thought of Henry, his hands roaming down her thighs and preparing to force himself on her, it made him hold her a bit closer to himself. It had felt good to stick that bastard with his sword, although that was the bare minimum of what he wanted to do to him.
Keelhauling was a light sentence for what Henry Reichster had done.
She squirmed in his grasp, he loosened his grip. "We're here, oh look, isn't it marvelous?" He nodded in agreement, for the theater was beautiful in that French way that covered everything in sculpture and gilding. Of course, that mean he had to don the top hat again as they exited the taxi, and he had no doubt he resembled nothing so much as a chimney in it. He kept his arm around her waist as they entered, the tickets being presented to an usher who went off to ensure that their box was prepared for them. The lobby was crowded with other parties waiting around, ladies in far more daring dresses than Ana's. Diamonds glittered over breasts barely covered by tight, shining silk, and their escorts rather reminded him of puffed up popinjays as they eyed his wife. He watched one man, with a beauty already on his arm, run his eyes slowly up and down Ana's form, lingering on where her sapphires rested on her neck. Will gave him a glare for that.
He hated the way they eyed his wife, as if she was something they could come over and sample.
"Ana, over here." He gently guided her away from the main part of the lobby, over to a rather deserted corner near a large display of flowers. Looking over his shoulder to make sure that no one was watching him, he reached out and plucked a flower. It was a white rose, and he quickly broke off the thorns before slipping it behind Ana's ear. He let him hand trace its way down her neck, dancing over her neckline. "There, even better." The hand around her waist slipped a bit lower, giving her a squeeze.
She stepped away from his hand. "I swear, first the taxi and now this, what has gotten into you?" Her lips were pursed. "Are you marking your territory? Is the wedding ring not enough?"
He shrugged. "I don't like the way they were leering at you back there, like you were something served up to them."
"For Christ's sake Will, men look at women, especially when they're dressed up. And if you have not noticed, I haven't looked their way. Only at you, you silly man."
She was right, but that didn't mean he had to let them do it without some resistance from him. "Still, I don't like it."
"Very well, just give me a moment." She started working her glove off, before he grabbed her hand.
"What are you doing?" It wasn't that Will wanted her to stop, he enjoyed holding her soft hands, but she had been attacking her glove with such determination.
"I was going to show them all my ring, tell them that you are my husband, and that you are horribly jealous even though you have no right to be, given how often we seem to find ourselves abed." Her voice was light, even as she pulled her glove back up over her elbow. "Should I not?"
He snorted. "You are a horrible woman."
"And you are an incredibly hardheaded man." Ana chuckled, waving to the usher that had returned. Fortunately what they were led to was a private box, although Will had no doubt that it was going to be much like the opera in New York. All the attention would not be on the performance, but rather on the other spectators. Well, he figured he'd give them something to talk about, throwing his hat onto the sofa in the private portion and running his fingers through his hair. Hell, he sent his gloves after his hat. Ana shook her head at that, although he noticed she did work her own gloves off. However she folded them prettily across the arm of a chair, swirling her skirt around her as she sat in the chair to watch the performance. She looked over her shoulder, "Aren't you going to join me?"
He chose not to respond, instead taking the other chair and sliding right up against hers. It was far better to sit right beside her rather than at the appropriate distance, where he could pull her hand over to his and kiss her soft skin. He could smell a bit of the Florida water on her wrist, and he breathed in the heady scent. The orchestra was beginning to tune their instruments, the other patrons filing in and taking their seats. He contented himself with running his thumb over Ana's hand, occasionally drifting farther up her arm to her elbow. It kept him from looking out for men looking their way as the performance began, and it made Ana's breath hitch in the most wonderful way.
"Oh, look at them." Ana's voice was filled with such awe that Will could not help but agree. The ballerinas had begun to enter, their costumes ethereal as they moved in from the wings, their movement rather discordant but still graceful. The music, while not to his personal taste, was passable and the crowd seemed to be murmuring as it progressed. He supposed he could understand their apprehension about it, the French were always picky about new things when it came to art. While he would not be buying a record of it, it made a nice accompaniment to the dance being done on stage.
As for the story, he could hardly follow. It appeared to be something about pagan ceremonies, but that was as much as he could understand. As the ballerinas were chased by their male partners, he let his eyes wander the audience. Most of the people on the floor were observing the performance with awe, but those in the boxes had begun to let their eyes stray. He caught that man from the lobby earlier eyeing Ana again, and Will deliberately stretched his hands out in front of him to display his wedding band. When the lights came up to signal an intermission, he had to stop himself from sighing in relief as they retreated into their private lounge.
He did let the curtain drop to hide the sitting area from any viewers.
"Care for a drink?" He asked as he stepped to the bar, grabbing a snifter of iced whiskey for himself.
Ana smiled as she nodded. "Make it two." He did so, joining her on the sofa. She had made sure to sit away from where he had thrown his hat and gloves, which meant that he had a smaller space to sit. Not that Will minded, it allowed him to sit close enough to her that she was almost overflowing onto his lap. Ana sipped her whiskey, her pink lips so close that Will wanted to bat the glass aside and kiss her. She leaned against him, "So, what do you think?"
That you're a damn temptation in that gown and I want to rip it off you. "Of what?"
"The ballet."
He shrugged. "It's fine, I don't see why it caused a riot."
"I can't either, although the music took some getting used to." She pressed herself closer to him, and Will curled an arm around her as she did. "It's rather aggressive, isn't it?"
"I suppose." He shook his head, taking another drink. "You would be able to judge far better than me."
She laughed quietly, and it was enough to make him drop his hand from her shoulders to her waist. "I'll leave the celestial navigation to you, and you leave the arts to me. Do we have an accord?"
"Far more than that." He leaned close, gently pressing his lips to hers. Nothing beyond that, just simply letting his lips move over hers, content to simply be close. And then his wife flicked her tongue against his lips, and he groaned as she deepened the kiss. For as much as Ana teased him about being insatiable in the bedroom, she clearly enjoyed every bit of it a great deal, and that only made him grin into her lips as he swept his tongue across hers.
The lights around them dimming broke them apart, and Will tried to keep himself from gripping her tightly as she made to stand. Her voice was a bit unsteady, "I think we're supposed to return to our seats."
He grabbed one of her hands, his grip gentle even though all he wanted was to ravage her on the sofa. "I don't suppose we could spend one more minute back here?"
"Will, don't you want to see the end?" She looked down at him, "We can carry on back at the hotel, you know."
"I know," He ran his thumb over her knuckles. "I just don't want to see that man three boxes down trying to use his glasses to peer down your dress for the rest of the performance."
"The one with the waxed mustache?"
"You noticed?" His brow furrowed, sure that she had been so focused on the stage that everything else had faded away.
"Of course, and his mistress was eyeing you. You didn't?"
He felt himself flush slightly. "I wasn't concerned with her."
"Well, perhaps we'll deny them their entertainment for a little while longer." Ana grinned at him, and it made all of Will's blood rush below his belt. He quickly pulled her back down to the sofa, covering her in kisses as he did so. The little laughs she gave as he did so only made him more sure of his decision, and he gently guided her to lay back on the sofa.
"Oh," She started up after she had laid down. "Will, your hat."
The damn thing had been dented as she had laid on it, and he fairly growled."I don't care about the bloody hat." But then he had his arms around her waist, guiding her into his lap. "But if you don't want to destroy it for me, here." God, it was heady to have her sitting on his lap, like the first time he had lost himself with her, back in her sitting room when she had torn off her shirtwaist and allowed him far more liberties than he should have taken. She straddled him, that tight skirt hiked high up around her thighs to allow her to press herself to him. Will let his hands roam further up her thighs, cupping her bottom and kneading as he pressed her against him. It was when she started to move against the growing hardness in this trousers that he let his head fall back with a groan. "God, Ana."
Her breathing was heavy, although her voice was quiet. "Will, is this-"
"If you ask me if this is right, I'm going to throw you on the floor and make sure that Frenchman know exactly how much you love your husband." He chuckled, his hands encouraging her to a rhythm that made him dearly wish he could free himself. He pressed his lips to her ear, "I would make you scream."
"Ah, Will." She sighed, her hands roaming down his chest. Will started as she found his waistband, her fingers slipping down to the buttons of his fly. "You would want everyone to hear what you do to me?"
It took all he had to speak as she freed each button, until she wrapped her hand around his stiff member. "God, woman, don't-" He worried for a moment about the noise, that others would hear them, but the orchestra was thundering away outside their private little room. Surely the sound of two people enjoying themselves would be drowned out, and if anyone did hear, well, certainly far worse things had been done in this theater.
"Don't what, Will?"
"Don't tease me like this." He groaned as she began to work her hand up and down his shaft, her fingers gently circling over his tip. "We can go back to the hotel."
Her pace increased, "But we're already here, and I think you want me."
"Always." Will opened his eyes briefly, but his vision was full of Ana's breasts straining against her dress and he let his head drop against them, kissing, licking and wishing that he could pull her dress and corset off so he could suckle at them. She did enjoy it so when he did that. "But if you don't-"
She shifted in his lap, her hands leaving him. "I do." Will watched as she hiked her skirt up around her waist, her legs in their white silk stockings spread as she held herself above him. Ana watched him, and he gave a slight nod. With that she let one hand guide him into her, settling onto him with a strained sigh that made Will want to buck up against her. Instead, he let her have a moment to adjust herself and he focused on how she felt. Warm, and wet, and so tight that it felt like he'd drawn on a glove that was too small but covered every single inch of his hand.
And then she rocked against him.
"Fuck," His breath came out of him in that single word, his voice a whisper as his wife began to ride him. For all of her inexperience, she was a fast learner as she seemed to study his reactions to different movements. When she simply rode him up and down, it was nice, but then when she leaned over him, her hips grinding against his in what almost seemed like circles, he felt nothing but pure bliss. He let one hand wander between them, his other far too focused on squeezing her bottom and encouraging her to continue. Her forehead was pressed against his, and the gasp that came out of her as he circled the bud of nerves made him feel far too proud.
"Agh, Will." She moaned, her voice a bit loud. Will leaned forward, swallowing up whatever sound she was going to make as he continued his ministrations. He could tell she was getting close, the way she clenched around him and would sometimes start as her pleasure mounted. By then he was thrusting up into her as well, and she was driving herself down even harder onto him, his finger a blur it seemed as he brought her to the edge. And then she was there, freezing for a moment as she slowly sunk back onto him. The sound of her voice was delicious, "Oh, oh Will." She almost sobbed, keening his name as she writhed in his arms.
"Ana." He groaned into her neck, feeling her walls pulse around him and it took all he had to keep himself from moving as she climaxed. All it took for him to join her was a few more strokes, although he was more in charge of them as Ana was practically limp on him as he went over the edge. The relief from the pressure as his seed left him was such a pleasure that he let her linger on him even as he grew limp inside her. He knew that some of his seed would come out as she did, and he spent a moment thinking about how to prevent it from staining her dress. He wanted to do a great many more things to her in that dress, and he did not want Louise to have to clean that particular stain.
His wife stirred in his arms, "That was amazing."
"Yes," He sighed, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Keep your skirts up, I'll clean you." It took far too much effort to lose her weight and warmth as she shakily stood, her hands fisted in her skirts as she sat next to him on the sofa. He tucked himself away, moving to the small bar in the box. Sure enough, there was a rag for cleaning up spills behind it, and he brought it back over. He knelt between his wife's legs, gently brushing it across her thighs as he cleaned himself off of her. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, "There, all done."
"Thank you." She muttered, her skirts slithering out of her hands. "Will, I don't think I can move."
He threw the rag back where it came from, joining her on the sofa and curling his arms around her. "Should I carry you back to the hotel?"
"I'm sure everyone would love to see that." She snorted against his neck. "Especially our admirers."
The orchestra was reaching its crescendo, drums hammering away faster and faster even as he heart slowed. "Come on then, let's slip out before the rest of them. I think we both deserve a rest."
"You say that as if you won't be ready for another round by the middle of the night." She chuckled, although she did allow him to pull her to her feet. She leaned heavily on his arm as they made their way out, her other hand holding his top hat and gloves. Will got them a taxi, and he smiled in pure and utter contentment as Ana leaned her head against his shoulder. The drive across Paris in the dark was quiet, at least in the car. He saw revelers moving from one bar to another, or going into a dance hall, but he knew none of them could have a better time than he had just had. Rousing Ana when they reached the hotel was a challenge, and he practically carried her into the lift. The attendant was smart enough not to say anything, and Will fumbled a small tip into his hand after they had reached their floor.
She stirred when he drew her into the sitting room. "Can you help me out of this?"
"I'd like nothing more." He chuckled, the buttons yielding to his fingers as he stripped the dress from her. Then it was her corset, again far too tight for his liking. He could see marks on her skin as she unhooked the busk and threw it aside. He let his hands linger on her hips. "I wish you wouldn't lace that so tightly, it can't be healthy."
"You didn't mind when I was in the dress." She muttered, although when his hand came around to her stomach and pulled her back against him, she sighed. "I brought the brassieres, you know. I've been wearing them more."
"Good," He rubbed his hand over her stomach, for a moment wondering if already a child was growing in there. It was rather odd to think that he might have the chance to have a child again, and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "Go get in bed, I'll join you once I get out of this monkey suit." She snorted out a laugh at that, although she took a minute to strip off her drawers and stockings before vanishing though the door. Will was much faster about undressing, only keeping his shirt on and leaving the rest folded on a chair. Ana was already a form hidden by the blankets when he entered, sliding into bed next to her. She made a noise of contentment as he did so, immediately pressing herself to him. He let his head hit the pillow, utterly drained and completely happy with his life.