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."