[Farren Abercrombie]

It was late in the evening. The party was still going full steam though and Farren had spent the better portion of the last two hours being twirled around the dance floor by various prominent men of pureblood society. There was only one person in the room she actually wanted to dance with though.

Though they'd greeted each other and chatted briefly with Pyxis she had decided it was better to not dance with him early in the evening. People paid more attention early on, when less drink had been consumed. She wasn't sure if she could keep herself from holding him too tightly or slyly brushing her cheek against his. Their passion would be palpable she was almost certain and if they were going to keep their plans hidden it was not wise to spend the evening letting him spin her around the dance floor.

But she was growing impatient. She couldn't stop herself from watching him. As he stood politely chatting with various people, the occasions he stepped on the dance floor, her eyes could hardly be peeled away from him. If anyone was paying close attention they'd have easily noticed but it was hard enough to stay away from him, she couldn't not watch him.

As she waltzed across the floor with Mr. Lestrange she contemplated her options. Escape. Her mind and body were telling her they should escape. It wouldn't be the first time they'd made a hasty exit from a social scene. Here though it had to be managed more carefully. By the end of the dance she'd devised her plan.

Her first stop was Pyxis whom was chatting with some Ministry men. She interrupted politely and briefly enough to tell Pyxis she would be leaving early without him and he needn't worry. Then she located Declan. Chatting with some man in a kilt she probably should know but couldn't place. Her dance card hung from a little gold string around her wrist, it was full of the names of the finest men but she lifted her wand slightly and erased it. With a hasty wave of her wand she replaced the text with a message for Declan in small, delicate font.

She made her way along the perimeter of the crowded ball room towards him. Champagne flute in hand, she waited alone where he could clearly see her. People approached her and she politely batted them away, yet another signal she was waiting for only one to approach her. From the corner of her eye she could see him trying to tie up his chat. He glanced at her anxiously. She waited.

"Mr. O'Dwyer," she said softly as he broke away from the Scotsman and moved towards her. "I can't believe we've made it this far in the evening without claiming a dance. Won't you select a dance to share with me?"

Smiling demurely she held out her wrist holding her dance card in the other hand. Under normal circumstances he would raise his wand and sign his name next to the listed dances he wished to claim. However the lines meant for gentleman's names instead bore a message.

'Back door of the ballroom, next to the orchestra, down the hall to the stair case with the persian carpet, up the staircase, right at the landing, 4th door on the right side of the hall. 10:25PM.'

"We shall be sharing the last dance of our evenings then," she said cooly. By no means was this party going to be over in the next 25 minutes but for them it would be. She was going to convince him to leave with her.

"I've been looking forward to this dance in particular for weeks," the corners of her mouth pulled into a smirk. Everything was laced with explicit innuendo and her eyes seemed to sparkle with some kind of gleeful twinkle at teasing him. "So...I shall see you then?" she asked almost rhetorically. So far as Farren saw it the O'Dwyer heir was now hers. He was in love with her. He wanted her. He wanted to marry her and clothe her in jewels and house her in his castle. Yielding to such demands seemed like a small thing to ask of a man she'd promised to wed in due course.

With a sly smirk she offered a slight curtsey. Anyone looking on would assume they'd just had a brief exchange about him joining her dance card and she was now off to her next dance. Raising her eyebrow as she rose she challenged him, to admire her, to let his mind run wild with where she was taking him, whatever he wanted. "I will bid you good evening until our dance Mr. O'Dwyer," she offered politely before stepping away and letting herself be swept up into the crowd.

Farren knew the Greengrass house well, having grown up with their daughters. The room she'd sent him to was one of the rooms reserved for visiting help in the back of the house. These spaces were rarely used as few people traveled with servants anymore. When they were small they used to run wild in these long neglected servants rooms playing so she remembered them well.

Dodging people she knew would stop her to chat, Farren made her way out of the ballroom. Of course she knew a less direct route to the rooms and would take that now so that they disappeared from opposite doors. There was no way anyone but perhaps Pyxis would notice her leave and then O'Dwyer soon after.

She faced little resistance in the halls. The Greengrass staff knew her well. One maid stopped her to ask what was wrong and she said that she'd had one too many drinks and was going to sit in a guest room for a bit with a glass of water. Snaking her way through the house she made her way to the room she'd directed Declan to. Drawing her wand she easily tripped the lock.

As she recalled, the room was sparse. A simple narrow wood frame bed, a basin with a mirror and wash pan, and a night stand. Nothing grand for the visiting help was required. Flicking her wand she lit the small sconces on the wall, the room was still dimly lit though. Closing the door behind her she turned the lock. Sighing heavily she smoothed her dress. She was anxious but she was so excited to see him she didn't care.

[Declan O'Dwyer]

The evening meandered pleasantly and Declan found that against expectations he was having a good time. He'd spent a little while in conversation with his younger brother, before moving on to catching up with various people he knew. Of course, he'd have liked to spend more time with Farren after just a short hello, but he knew that paying her great attention at present would likely  raise eyebrows and place more eyes on them than they were comfortable handling. Their relationship was still new, things with their families had not yet been worked out and while the idea of being embroiled in a scandal would have amused Declan on some level, he knew that Farren would be suffering harsh consequences for any misstep while he would likely get away with a slap on the wrist.

He'd just have to be patient. Normally, that didn't present much of a challenge. Declan didn't mind waiting for good things to happen and taking his time. Well, except tonight his thoughts were so preoccupied with Farren it was difficult to distract himself from her. A quick glance here and there was better than nothing though, wasn't it? He wondered if Pyxis kept picking up on his thoughts, but hoped for the other man's sake that he didn't. Declan's mind sounded like a broken record, stuck on Farren and how beautiful she looked tonight.

Politeness dictated that he had to dance. Declan stepped onto the dance floor with Blythe Bannatyne. Out of all the great ladies in attendance, she represented a safe option. Engaged to marry his uncle, nobody would postulate any outlandish theories about them. His heart wasn't really in it, but he stepped through the waltz without any trouble. Farren meanwhile appeared to be in high demand. He didn't recognise the gentleman she was currently dancing with, but there was little doubt she'd made his evening. His pleased little smile really said it all.

Too bad for that gentleman he wouldn't make any inroads with Mrs Abercrombie-Rosier tonight. The music swelled. Declan thought the pace of the waltz was getting faster, or maybe his vertigo was setting in. He always struggled with all the spinning. In the thick of it all he lost sight of Farren. Perhaps, that was for the better.

Blythe made her excuses and Declan hoped he'd get to retire to somewhere in the garden where he could just enjoy the distant music and a cool drink. Unfortunately, he was joined by George Kinnaird, a Scottish wizard who talked too much and always had an anecdote or two to share. He let himself get wrapped up in the conversation. It was a distraction after all, even if not a very good one.

Eventually, Farren re-emerged from the crowd. This time, she was clearly waiting for him. He joined her when he could, only to be presented with a dance card. He hadn't put his name down earlier thinking it would draw to much attention. Maybe, it was okay now. Most of the crowd had indulged in a drink or two by now and the whole evening felt a little less formal for it.

Declan took the card and raised a single eyebrow scanning over the content. A time and a meeting place? Just what did Farren have in mind? It wouldn't be the first time they made an escape together, but suddenly it felt a lot more charged.

"I look forward to our dance," he confirmed casually and watched as she retreated once again. He should probably wait a little bit before making a move. Them both leaving at the same time would be suspicious. He opted to find Lorcan in the crowd to let him know he was leaving.

A couple of minutes later he was on his way. What had she said again? Back door, then down the hall and up the staircase? He wasn't sure anymore. Had she really put 4th door? What kind of meeting place was that? Still he made his way up surprisingly undisturbed. All the staff were distracted with guests downstairs. Probably for the better as he didn't know their hosts well.

He took a left and carefully walked along the corridor. The 4th door lead into a bathroom. Ugh. Was that right? Looking around Farren wasn't there yet even though she had left before him. Maybe, she had been held up?

[Farren Abercrombie]

She shifted, wanting to position herself perfectly for when he opened the door and saw her. Although she knew it didn't matter, she was gorgeous and he knew it. She assumed she could be digging in the dirt and he'd still find her attractive. However she wanted this to be a moment. For him to see her and be obsessed with how gorgeous she looked waiting for him. Hand on the hip casually. Not directly facing the door. Her best angles aligned towards the door where he'd appear.

Only he didn't appear. Without a watch she was hard pressed to know exactly how she'd timed this but she was sure he should have been here by now. Perhaps minutes were dragging into hours as she waited impatiently for him? Surely not though. For a moment she was sure she heard footsteps in the hall, even a door opening, but the thick stone walls covered in plaster and old hand turned wood door made even this lowly servants quarters extremely well insulated against sound.

Waiting she wondered if she made it too complicated. It was just a fun little game but also, a layer of protection for herself. No one would care if Declan O'Dwyer left a ball with a girl. Many would care if she left a ball with a boy. Well, one that wasn't Pyxis. Tapping her toes anxiously she strained to listen to any sign of life in the hallway. Nothing. Confident he wouldn't just abandon her and leave her standing alone waiting for him she decided she'd need to go out and find him. Perhaps that had been him in the hall afterall?

She pulled the door to the room open and stuck her head out in the hallway. No one. She huffed a little indignant huff and stepped into the hall. Now she worried that perhaps someone else was using these servants rooms for things she didn't care to see. She stepped to the room on the right hand side of the one she'd directed. Drawing her wand she unlocked it and pushed it open just enough to see inside. Dark. Empty. Pursing her lips, her annoyance growing, she turned and tried the other door beside the room she'd picked. Empty yet again.


Sighing she turned to the door directly across from the one she'd directed she pointed her wand at the handle and sprung the lock. Pushing the door open with the toe of her high heel she realized the lights were on inside and let the door swing open. There he was.

"Bloody hell O'Dwyer," she huffed, clearly annoyed but incapable of not smiling. "The right hand side not the left. Why in the world would I ask you to meet me in a servant's toilet? The bedroom was lowly enough as it were." For some reason she found herself immediately wanting to touch him. To run her fingers through his hair. The feelings and thoughts she had around this man continued to overwhelm her in a baffling way.


"Well, we shouldn't dawdle here. Pyxis knows to make an excuse for me. Let's go." She stepped forward and extended her arms to him, wrapping him up in her hold, placing a soft kiss on his cheek before pulling him with her into apparation. They swirled through space in the all too familiar sensation and then quickly re-materialized in a new place.

The room was dim and warm. It smelled of flowers, vanilla, and fire. The logs burning low in the hearth to ward of any hint of an evening London chill. It was opulent, green, white, and gold. "I thought we could use a little privacy." she said softly now realizing that bringing him back to her bedroom was a bold move.

[Declan O'Dwyer]

Time slowed down to a trickle. While waiting for Farren, Declan became aware of every nearby sound, hoping to hear her footsteps in the hallway. It felt odd to be waiting for her in a bathroom, but at least it was a nice bathroom. In mansions as grand as this one, even the servants were afforded a certain amount of luxury. How strange though that Farren should have asked to meet him here. The longer he waited the more he doubted that he was in the right place. There was no sign of her and the location did seem a little unlikely.

He couldn't be sure though that he'd gotten her instructions wrong. Maybe, Farren had really meant to meet here, odd as it was. He supposed nobody was likely to come looking for either of them here. Not that people looked for Declan. He was known to randomly disappear at social occasions, usually when he grew bored of the company present. Still, something about the idea of meeting her here seemed off. He'd probably just give it another minute or two and then he would sweep the floor to have a look for her.

Declan reached into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the handle of his wand. He wasn't expecting an ambush, but somehow the smooth feel of the wood in his hand was rather reassuring. It eased his nerves, while his mind raced to figure out how Farren wanted to spend the rest of their evening. They'd thrown all the rules of polite society out of the window, but as of yet he wasn't sure what exactly they'd replaced them with. What did she expect? Would he disappoint her?

How long had he been waiting? However long it was, it felt too long. Declan nervously shifted his weight. She wouldn't stand him up, would she? Though Farren could be a fickle creature, he dismissed that thought immediately. Probably more likely that something had come up. Maybe, she'd met someone on the way who had embroiled her in an unwanted conversation. Suddenly there were steps. Okay, he'd have to wait for whoever was approaching to pass and then he could take a look around.

The door swung open. His heart jumped.

"Oh, thank Merlin, it's you."

Relief washed over Declan. There she was, thought from the looks of it none too impressed.

"Did I go the wrong way?"

Farren was keen to get going. He supposed being caught together in a bathroom would be rather undignified. Declan smiled as Farren placed a light kiss on his cheek and swept him forward in apparition. An excited jolt of something ran down his spine as their magic made contact. This was intimate.

The thought paled as he found himself materialising in a stately bedroom. He couldn't say what he'd imagined would happen once they left the ball, but it very clearly wasn't finding himself in the lady's boudoir. Not that he objected. Looking around carefully, he noted the floral wallpaper, copious cushions and golden detailing. The space felt warm and welcoming. Had he expected something different? Declan wasn't sure. Farren seemed so changeable at times he was never quite sure what would be next.

Having regained his bearings, Declan took a small step towards Farren placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"Privacy seems like an excellent idea," he agreed with her.

His hands found their way onto her sides holding her gently. A flicker of indecision showed in his eyes. Was she sure that this was what she wanted? Then again being invited to a lady's bedroom really spoke for itself, didn't it? Leaning in he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

"You've been on my mind all night," he murmured into the kiss, not caring that his words came out in more of a mumble. "Well, maybe all day too."

[Farren Abercrombie]

As soon as they'd materialized in her bedroom she began to doubt herself. What had she been thinking? It was hasty and rash to bring him here. Surely he immediately knew what she'd been thinking about during the party when she planned this. Of course she'd been thinking about it for days. But she was a Lady, she was supposed to be prim and proper. It was scandalous enough that she'd undone her blouse for him. They had a promise and while she expected him to follow through there was still no ring on her finger. She was acting like a trollop and she was conflicted as to how much she cared to resist it.


His hands were on her waist and he offered her a tender kiss. Perhaps he could sense her apprehension? Never the less she couldn't stop herself from smiling when he said he'd been thinking about her all night, all day even. "It would be a lie if I didn't say I've been the same. Afraid my mind is clouded with you more often than not," she offered a demure smile.


"I must confess, I didn't have a concrete plan here. But it was killing me to be in that ball room and chat with or dance with anyone but you. Did you see the way Mr. Nott kept asking for another dance? The man is no younger than 45 and even if he does own half of Kent not enough land in the world could detract from the fact that he stands at least five inches below me and has been using hair potions for at least a decade already." She snickered a little shaking her head and pursing her lips in second hand embarrassment for the poor man. "Besides, how could I care about such men?" Her eyes were bright and even though she was admittedly unsure of what was going to happen here just being with him made her flirty and eased the tension that had immediately began to swell in her mind.


"I've landed the only bachelor worth landing," she said tenderly tilting her face towards his to place a gentle kiss on his lips. Lingering she smiled and slid her fingers hesitantly into his hair before slowly allowing them to trail behind his ear and along the side of his jaw. "I'm growing to loathe not having you by my side as much as possible. I've never been so miserable at a ball as having to barely acknowledge you." She could hardly explain her behavior to herself much less him but she assumed he would understand and that the misery had been mutual.


"Are you shocked to see my bedroom?" a little smirk pulled at the corners of her lips. She knew he would be. "Perhaps it is too much too soon?"

"I'd have never dreamed of doing this before. But...I've spent so much time in here thinking about you lately. It's safe here. Private."

For a moment she hesitated, pulling back a little she looked over her shoulder at the dramatic canopy bed across the room. Just this morning she'd been in that bed. Curtains drawn, sheets pulled up to her chin, eyes closed tight as she thought about what it would be like to lay with him under her green floral canopy. Ever since he'd slid that ice cube across her collar bone she'd been able to think of little else in the moments before drifting to sleep or waking. Him beside her, how he would kiss her, how he would touch her. This morning like many lately she'd found herself pulling her nightgown up around her hips and resting her hand between her thighs as she imagined their passion.


Now being here with him she was both ravenous and anxious. "I just wanted you to myself. Alone." Closing the space between them she pulled him into her arms, burying her nose in his long dark hair.

"You will find I intend to be very selfish when it comes to you. To us. I hope that's agreeable with you." She meant it very much. As far as she was concerned there wasn't enough time in her calendar to devote to him. Their lives had developed as singular ones for many years at this point. Incorporating the other would require big changes. She'd never demanded much of Clive, she'd never demanded that he truly care about her much less love her. She'd tried being selfless for him, for their marriage, for their families and it'd left her empty handed and alone tied to a man who didn't care if he woke up beside her or not. If she was going to do it all over again she was determined to be selfish this time around. He'd have to know what she wanted, needed, what she demanded.


"I love you," she said softly her lips pressing against the side of his neck. "I'm already growing weary of being apart more than we are together. Perhaps I have been weary of it for years and only just now realized what that feeling eating away at me was. Just be with me. Please? Here, in my space. Let's just be together for awhile."

[Declan O'Dwyer]

A little smirk played on the corner of Declan's lips. If she had wanted to bolster his ego it sure was a mission accomplished. Farren had been wanting to spend time with him? Yes, of course. Hearing her say it out loud though and readily admit to it was still a little unfamiliar and sent a shiver down his spine. He'd daydreamed about her for years, but this was way more than he ever imagined. This was his life, not some imagined fantasy.

Clearly, it was overwhelming for Farren too. She tried to make some conversation, talking about Mr Nott at the ball of all things, but Declan was only half listening. He was preoccupied with taking in his surroundings once again. After looking at everything, his eyes travelled over the space a second time, as if trying to make sure that what he was seeing was real.

"I suppose he has good taste in women," Declan commented on the subject of Mr Nott, even though he was less than convinced that the wizard in question was actually interested in Farren for more than her family name and perhaps physical attributes. No doubt, he was the kind of suitor her family would approve of over him. Nott was English and his political views probably lined up more closely with those of Farren's mother than his own. 

"Unfortunately for him, you're mine and I have no intention of giving you up." His resolve showed in his eyes, cold and hard. For a moment his debonair manner slipped, exposing how hard-headed, jealous, and confrontational he could be underneath his layers of polish. "I hope he didn't take things too far and make you feel uncomfortable. You let me know if any of those chaps cross a line, I know what they're like."

His mind flashed to several older wizards proudly sharing their misdeeds in the men's bathroom at one event or another. It was disgusting how proud they were of themselves for copping a feel or seducing a witch they had no intention of marrying. He'd never been one to take part in those exchanges, but now that he was seeing Farren he'd gone from merely being uninterested in them to being actively repulsed.

Declan's darker thoughts soon made way for cheerier ones though as Farren teased about seeing her bedroom. He couldn't help but grin.

"It's only fair," he proclaimed with more confidence than he felt. "You've seen mine." The smile that overtook his features was bright and genuine. "I'll admit though, I didn't expect to see it quite so soon."

His playfulness faded in light of how deeply emotional and anxious she came across. "Don't worry so much," he whispered soothingly. "I don't think there is such a thing as wanting too much time together. I'm not going anywhere, not matter what happens." He wondered if perhaps certain things not happening would leave her just as concerned, but he didn't vocalise the thought. No point in making Farren feel any more self-conscious than she did already.

His formal attire that had been so very suitable from the event they had just come from, was starting to feel stifling. Undoing the ornamental chain holding his blue overcoat in place, Declan shed the first of his entirely too many layers. He draped the coat over an empty chair, before shrugging out of his waistcoat as well. There, that was better.

"How about we just get comfortable?"

Looking her over he inclined his head to the side. "Do you want to change into something more comfortable?"

There was a part of him that might have wanted to devour her there and then, but he didn't want to rush things and ruin the moment. They'd not had as much time together as he would have liked, but they both had their obligations to honour.

Declan sat down on her bed, for a moment concerned that he was disturbing the perfect state of the room. However, surely this space was to be lived in rather than being treated as something ornamental. He brushed back his dark hair and fixed his gaze on her.

"I love you too," he offered up simply. "If you want me to, I can stay all night and only disappear again in the morning before your house staff wakes up and takes notice." A little wink. "I didn't expect sneaking around to be this much fun, but it's enjoyable, isn't it."

He reached out for her, motioning her to join him sitting on the bed.   

[Farren Abercrombie]

Slowly, her nerves started to settle, like the tide rolling out at low tide they ebbed away the longer they stayed close. The way he responded to her idle chatter about Mr. Nott fortified her sense of security. It was dawning on her that this anxiety, her woe over missing him and being unhappy with time spent apart in their busy lives, and him taking an affirmative stance on her belonging to him were all related. She didn't doubt her feelings for him nor did she doubt his feelings for her. All she need do was recall how he'd touched her, how he'd kissed her, how he'd declared his affections so beautifully last week when she'd visited his, their - future home in Ireland. There was no room for real doubt in her mind, yet she craved and needed that reassurance. She'd never been enough to please her mother. She'd never been enough to please her husband.

Declan though was somehow able to both play along and puff his chest out for her and turn quickly to being tender and nurturing. She was mercurial and if he was having trouble keeping up she couldn't tell. All she knew was that he was saying and doing all the right things. He was far more atune to her and attentive than she was familiar with and she felt increasingly secure.

"I like it when you're like this," she said resting her hand on his chest in a tender gesture. "I feel like your most prized acquisition. We may be more modern than some pureblood couples but I won't be disappointed if you occasionally remind me and anyone who needs it that I am yours, entirely." There was a hint of a flirtatious grin as she spoke, watching him shed his coat and waistcoat.

If he was nervous as she was he was doing a decent job of hiding it. He seemed cool, confident even as he draped his outer clothes over a chair and slid onto the edge of her bed. "Good plan, I suppose I should put this gown and these pieces away before I accidentally snag the skirt,"  Adjoining the bedroom was her massive dressing room. Lined on two sides with racks of gowns and chests full of beautiful things it also housed her vanity and a large mirror. The doors opened onto the bedroom right beside the bath and though she made no effort to truly put on a show Declan's view of the room from the bed was unobscured.

She made no attempts at false modesty, one thing she had no hang ups about was her appearance. Declan was going to be her husband and she knew that sooner rather than later their passions would boil over. There would be no holds barred, no inch of smooth skin left untouched, no curve or dip overlooked.  Farren wanted Declan to want her, badly, more than he already did. So instead of closing the doors to the dressing room or pulling out her dressing screen she undressed as if he were not even there knowing full well with her back to him, facing the large mirror, he would either have to turn his head and look away or watch her.

A flick of her hand undid the many small buttons up the back of the dress. Carefully she pulled the gown away from her shoulders and slid the bodice over her bust, the dress slid down her body and pooled at her feet. Reaching back she tugged at the thin laces of her corset, nimbly loosening the laces so she could pull the busk together and free the clasps. Lazily she tossed the corset on top of her vanity table. Now she was down to her little silk slip and stockings. Sitting down on the little tufted stool in front of the vanity she kicked off her high heels before sliding her slip up her thigh so she could unclasp her garters and roll down the stockings on each leg, tossing them aside with her shoes. Finally she reached up and pulled the diamond tiara off her head and sat it on the vanity followed by the heavy diamond earrings.

For a moment she paused, her gaze in the vanity mirror drifting towards him on the bed. This was exactly what he'd said he wanted. One day soon the scene would be even more to his liking. She'd ask him to help her undress and they would both feel their breath catch in their chests as his hands slid down her body pulling her gown away. In her version of events he would be overcome, pulling at her slip and whatever  underpinnings she wore, casting her fine silks and laces aside hastily as if potentially damaging such a thing was a minor consequence for having his hands and body on her as soon as possible. Even as a half imagined fantasy it was enough to make her swoon. Catching his gaze in the mirror she looked back down at her diamonds, wondering if he knew what she was thinking and if he would like it. Of course he would. He was a gentleman but he was still human. 

Suppressing a giggle she rose from her vanity and stood before it quickly pulling her hair pins out. Hair loose, stripped down to her slip she moved towards him. "I think now I am far more comfortable than you," her tone was playful as she approached him, stepping between his knees. Smiling sweetly she leaned in for a chaste kiss before carefully undoing his tie and opening the buttons of his collar. "Better," she said, reaching up to gently run her fingers through his hair.

"I want you to stay," her head tilted as she considered him, "The elf, Priss, she will wake us and make sure you're out before my maid comes up. Or we could just stay up until dawn. I'm sure I can think of something to keep us busy."

It was direct but she didn't care. She loved him, she wanted to be with him whether they were up until dawn snuggled together chatting or in the throes of passion - she wanted both. Cupping his face in her hand she leaned in and kissed him. Tenderly at first but as he slid his hands over her hips, gently pulling her further forward, she fell into their kiss deeper and deeper. Her fingers trailed through his hair and along his jaw. He shifted, sliding his arm around her backside for leverage, lifting and pulling her forward as he leaned back into the bed. Sliding on top of him she gasped slightly, aroused by their new proximity, the way her body so easily slid into place against his, her thighs on either side of his hips, how he pulled her into his body. 

Her lips trailed along his jaw, "Now who belongs to whom," she whispered in his ear pressing her body forward against his pinning him down under her. Smirking she moved her lips back to his and kissed him deeply. "You are mine," she purred, shifting she braced herself over him, one hand flat on the bed, looking down at him. This angle allowed her to press her pelvis down against his which she did slowly, her body overly attuned to each brush of fabric against skin, each pressure point, each tense either made.
 "Declan O'Dwyer," she said softly smiling as she leaned down close enough to playfully bump his nose with hers. She grinned playfully, placing a quick peck on the tip of his nose. Slowly she rocked her hips forward then back again toying with the sensations of the pressure against her. Another playful peck at the corner of his mouth. "Say it," she was grinning widely now as she teased him with a kiss so light it might have tickled. "Say you love me and you're mine. Forever."

Giggling she pecked his lips again and again teasing him sweetly before leaning down and kissing him properly. She let her hips slide further against his, a tiny moan escaping her lips as she pressed herself down against his hips enjoying the pressure against her body. "Dec..." she wanted him to pull her harder against him. To touch her properly, to explore her body. Exhaling slowly she let herself fall back ontop of him slowly, laying her head against his shoulder. Per usual she was moving too fast.

"Whisky. I just remembered I have some." She slid off of him and onto the bed beside him. Lifting her hand she summoned the small bottle of amber liquid from the little writing desk on the far side of the room. Two small glasses followed. Leaning back against her elbows she grinned as she lazily directed the bottle to pour out two drinks into the cups in front of them in mid air. It was gratuitous but sometimes being a witch was just amusing. The bottle sat itself on the bed side table. The glasses suspended in the air in front of them. Still smiling she reached out and took hers. "See. No ice now. Though if you'd like to run an ice cube over my bare skin I'm sure we can find some." Smirking she raised her glass, "A toast. To sneaking around and all the things we will do in secret."

[Declan O'Dwyer]

Mature content. This is not currently available to you.

[Farren Abercrombie]

Mature content. This is not currently available to you.

[Declan O'Dwyer]

Declan was surprised when Farren suddenly wanted to slow down. He made himself pause, even if his body was protesting. The least he could do was listen and take her concerns seriously. And there he was again, Clive Rosier. Declan found it increasingly hard to be patient with this man and the damage he had done to Farren. He was but a memory, and still the time she had spent married to him had left deep impressions. There were so many things he wished he could make Clive answer for. Really, he should have stopped Farren all those years ago. Somehow.

He felt some anger brewing inside him and it took effort to bury the feeling. Just what had this marriage of Farren's been? He hardly had things figured out himself, but surely what she'd experienced with Clive was no way to live. Even though he knew Farren well, he still felt taken by surprise to see this very vulnerable side of her. Saying what she'd just said probably hadn't been easy to admit.

"You won't regret me," he whispered solemnly. "I'll make sure of it."

As her focus shifted to the here and now he was starting to feel more comfortable again. He'd known things with Clive hadn't been happy, but it was still hard to hear about the details of it. Thankfully, she was more preoccupied now with how they would experience their first steps together as a couple.

"Whatever you want, whatever you need."

He surprised himself in how easy it was to yield to her demands. Mere moments ago he had been ready to indulge their desires to the fullest extent, but now that frantic feeling made way for something softer. He could be patient if that was what she needed.

Declan slowly shifted his weight and laid down next to Farren. "We don't have to hurry," he said simply. "However, there will be many firsts. We're only just getting started." He didn't share her fear of missing out on something that should be memorable. It seemed that out of the two of them he had enjoyed the happier and healthier past relationships and was left with fewer scars overall.

"But if you are in for some firsts, come here." He gave a soft laugh and pulled her on top of him while giving a playful smile. "And now tell me exactly, what did you have in mind for tonight?"

Declan didn't wait for a response from her. His hands started trailing along her sides, slowly following the dip of her curves. "You know," he muttered softly, "I've tried to picture this at least a hundred times, but I never thought we could both be so happy."

[Farren Abercrombie]

Farren giggled a little as he pulled her on top of him. Comforted and put at ease she let herself settle into his frame. His hands sliding over her shift along the curves of her frame was equal parts soothing and alluring. "You have put me at such ease."

She smiled as he mentioned he'd thought of this moment many times over. It was somehow reassuring that he was still so at ease and affectionate despite her forcing them to slow things down considerably. "Have you now?" she asked, arching her eyebrow as she tenderly bumped her nose against his.

"I wonder....if perhaps some of those times you imagined such scenarios were rather long ago?" she smirked and placed a light kiss on the corner of his mouth, "I'm terribly curious if you ever envisaged such things when we were younger?"

Giggling a little she let herself slide off him and lay beside him, her body pressed against his, her chin resting against his shoulder. "I will admit, for as often as I have imagined laying with you in the last few months, I must have noticed your lips twice as many times in our later years at school. Of course, I didn't really understand such things then. Young ladies are always so strongly dissuaded from even considering such feelings and fancies. But now I understand," smiling she raised her hand to gently run her finger across his soft lips before leaning over to kiss him tenderly.

"I am obsessed," she purred softly against his lips. Sighing she pulled back, shifting to lay her head against his chest, carefully wedging herself against him between his body and arm. Her eyes closed for a moment as she inhaled slowly, clearly enjoying everything about being so close to him.

"I'm afraid I have no specific agenda for us." He wanted her to tell him exactly what she wanted but the fact was she didn't know. She wanted to just be with him, relaxed, comfortable, taking their time to explore each other. "But I suppose if you want to know exactly what I have in mind. I suppose it is something along the lines of snuggling under the duvet, kissing, giggling, sharing our deepest secrets, getting used to being together so closely, I'm very eager to touch you and be touched."

Farren hadn't really noticed but she was grinning. Being this close to him was making her giddy. It was perhaps the first time she felt truly secure in a man's grasp. Just a few months ago she'd have thought this was impossible. A man of good breeding, wealth, and honor - who also was her dearest friend, who adored her. She shifted, pressing herself even closer to him, draping her arm across his chest to pull him closer still.

"Perhaps we should start by getting into bed properly? I'm assuming you don't typically wear dress trousers to bed?" Tilting her face up towards his she smirked. "I wouldn't be opposed to taking this slip off if you want me to and I won't say no if you want to take everything off as well....it could be cozy?"