His laugh startled Malou, her eyes widening in concern. Had she said something wrong? Further warmth crept into her cheeks and her eyes flashed down to his throat rather than his eyes in a sudden onslaught of nerves. Of course she had said something wrong, wives weren't supposed to be cheeky.

But then his lips sought her's and she found her nerves igniting for a different reason. Anticipation and calm twined through her as well as she murmured against his lips, "Not too much, I hope." But really her mind had rather wandered from the conversation at hand to the fact that, once again, she was alone with a man - her husband! - in a room and there was a certain duty to be preformed. One that his kisses reminded her of, and, she was quite embarassed to admit because she was quite certain it was unbecoming of a woman, she rather felt she wanted very much when he spoke his words in the breathe between them.

  

---

He’d sensed something had shifted, but there were few tangible indicators that he could point to that would back up that assumption. Instead, he encircled her waist with his free arm, his right hand moving from her chin to cradle the back of her head. “That may be where we differ in opinion, Mrs. Prewett.” He gave a low chuckle as he dipped his head once more, this time savoring the moment and hovering his lips just above her own before deepening the kiss.

“Though if you protest, by all means take the lead.” It was his turn to give a mischievous grin before going in for another kiss, hovering again, and pulling away at the last moment. Faustus had done it to counter her, perhaps to counter his own nerves that seemed to be making an appearance, but most of the reason was that he wanted to give her a little breathing room. He backed away to slip off his jacket. It would be the first time they were in such an informal setting with each other. If her blush was enough to go off of, he was guessing she might be a bit overwhelmed. “But I warn you, I’ve got years of practice in arguing with people. There may come a time when you wake up and find a grand piano in the tearoom just because I felt like getting you one.”

---

  

Malou was all too aware of the sensation of the warmth of his arm wrapping around her, holding her tight. So driven to dsitraction was she that she hardly heard the words, only taking in her new name which filled her with a tingling excitement which was all to quickly laid aside by the feel of his lips once again on her's.

It really wasn't fair to have a conversation while kissing. Malou couldn't follow any of it, nor could she form a proper - or logical - response. She made a humm of noise in response instead, having forgotten what it was she was supposed to be protesting in the first place. It was, therefore, probably a good thing Faustus had stepped away from her for she found she rather disliked being at such a disadvantage.

It was, she realized, the first time she had seen him without his jacket when he was not in a moment of crisis. Taking off a jacket was something that she saw every day and ought not to shock her. But in this intimate setting, alone together, with a man who had just throuhghly kissed her, it was intimate and warmed her cheeks. What ought she to do now? She wondered. It wasn't as if she had a coat to remove. Did he remove something now -

Her thoughts were cut short by his words and a sound a mixture of a laugh and gasp slipped across her lips as she exclaimed, "You wouldn't!"

  

---

“Oh, but I would,” he replied immediately, his grin only growing more mischievous as he reached to take out his cuff links. It was so odd, he hadn’t felt this desire to make someone laugh and smile so much in quite some time. Yet with Marie it was fresh and he knew he would buy her a thousand pianos if it meant he got to see her smile for him.

“But for now I supposed you’ll have to settle for me buying you a new dress.” He’d had this recent vision of seeing her in a soft lilac color, or perhaps something to bring out the soft caramel of her hair. He pulled out a chair at the table and sat down, still smiling at her and marveling how he’d managed to get so lucky. Their first meeting had been at the orchestra, but he could never have forgotten the shock that settled over him when she had shoved a bloody piece of fabric at him that day at the Sanditon close.

He hadn’t realized she was a healer then, so to see her in such a setting had been burned in his mind for weeks after that. His eyes traced along the curve of her shoulder until he found her eyes. “Will you do something for me?” He murmured softly, reaching his hand out to her.

---

  

Her eyes widened and she couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face. She'd seen it before on his son right before the boy got in to some mischief, or on one of his brothers when they were up to something.

"Faustus!" She scolded. She certainly didn't need any new dresses either. Over the years she had made do with only one or two a year, altering them each season on her own to keep them from being horribly out of date. When Faustus had begun to court her, though, her wardrobe had begun to expand as Mrs. Bagshot proclaimed her excitment through lace and satin. And then again when she had insisted on a troussea for Malou after her engagement. Malou had gone from a small managable wardobe to something fit for her status in life. Something that had nott been the case since she had been seventeen years old. The thought of all the new gowns made her chafe at the extragence of it after so many years of being thrifty.

Her smile gentled at his gaze, the softening of his face, the warmth of his own as it emcompassed her's. "Of course." She murmured her gray gaze meeting his with a tenderness that spoke of all the sacrifices she would make for him.

  

---

He couldn’t help the cheeky grin and laughed along with her. He was more than aware of his wife’s conservative view on dressing, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other ways of spoiling her. Faustus made the mental note to keep the gifts to a modest amount and extravagance; there was no use in buying her something he knew she wouldn’t delight in wearing. Realizing he hadn’t thought too much about her state of dress before now had his heart thudding in his chest. As her hand met his, he pulled her closer and his free hand came up to capture a stray curl at the base of her neck. His gaze lingered there before he continued. “May I see it? Your hair down.” The intimacy of the request was not lost on him, and he searched her expression in hopes that he hadn’t offended her.

---

  

She allowed him to pull her into his sphere, that location that was just for her, where she could feel the heat of him. Her eyes watched his hand as he tugged at one of the waves that had gotten loose.

Nerves filled her. He had never seen her with her hair down. She swallowed and nodded slowly. The moment was poinent with tenderness and the experience of a first moment. She didn't step away, instead she began to take out the pins in her hair, grateful she had insisted on a simpler style than what Mrs. Bagshot would have liked.

When her hair was at last released it tumbled down her back past her waist in soft waves of honey. Shyly Malou met his gaze. It felt so intimate, this moment. Something she had never felt with anyone else.

  

---

He could see the blush on her cheeks deepen almost immediately, but she nodded, and his gaze followed the movement of her hands. The pins weren’t hard to take out, and they slipped out easily to give way to her tresses. They immediately relented to gravity and fell soft waves, framing her figure against the steady afternoon sunlight. Even as she finished, he couldn’t speak, left to observe his new wife in her beauty that she so clearly didn’t see. “I believe I am the luckiest man on earth, Mrs. Prewett.” He murmured, his hand coming to catch her around the waist and pull her forward.

And with that, he reached up with his other hand and drew her towards him. “Beauty, intelligence, strength…” He stood now, pressing another kiss onto her lips as a warmth began to radiate its way throughout his chest again.

---

  

That moment of silence between them seemed to suspend through the air as Malou sought his reaction and he said nothing. His voice was gravely as he finally spoke, guiding her closer to him, his hand tangling in the waves at her waist. She found she didn't mind the gentle tug of her hair, in fact it sent shivers racing through her spine. She wasn't sure she believed his words, she was nothing special. But he seemed determined to think differently of her.

She leaned into another kiss he placed on her lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. She might not believe his words but she believed this feeling blooming between them. She could trust it and lean into it. Feeling a bit brazen after his reaction to her hair Malou broke their embrace to shyly begin to undo the buttons on her traveling gown, her fingers shaking enough that she almost felt as if she'd never possibly be able to get even one undone let alone the whole line of them marching to her skirt.

  

---

Faustus could have been blindfolded with her only standing next to him, not touching him and he would have sensed it the minute she stepped away. So when she pulled away from him now, her absence was heavy, and his arms wanted to follow her and never let her go. The sight of her slender hands working to unbutton her traveling gown sent the warm feeling in his chest spiraling throughout his extremities. They both knew what needed to happen, and though he had never questioned if she had been with a man before, with her status as a healer, he wouldn’t be surprised if she knew the finer details.

“May I?” he murmured again, his voice low as he reached out a hand.

---

  

Mutely, Malou nodded feeling gratitude flood through her. Whoever had thought that buttons on such dresses was a fine idea most certainly had not been in this position, nor had they gone without a maid. Malou, who had experienced both things fervently wished she not let Mrs. Bagshot run rampant with her trousseau. Only Merlin knew what other hellish contraptions she might placed in Malou's traveling trunk. Perhaps she ought to have paid at least a bit more attention to her clothes.

It was easier to consider clothes then the doubts that had plagued her when she considered this moment. So instead of focusing on them again, she watched Faustus's face as he took over for her. His warm hands brushed bare skin as the first button was undone and Malou shivered, surprised to find the sensation so much more intimate than she had expected.

  

---

He was grateful she let him help; somewhere in the back of his mind, as he was undoing the buttons, he wondered how on earth she had been able to wear such garments on her own. Every so often, his eyes flicked up to his wife, observing her expression before plucking at the fabric once more. Somewhere in the last few minutes, something in the air had picked up - a buzzing, and Faustus found his gaze lingering over her curves as the dress opened to reveal the many layers beneath.

He had always considered himself a patient man, but a swell of urgency overtook him and he brushed the tips of his fingers along the last few buttons, bidding them to come unfastened with more haste than he could manually do it. Dipping his head, he moved forward to kiss her once more as he allowed himself to move even closer than he had ever been before.

---

  

It was so much more intimate to have a man undo one's buttons than a maid or a friend, Malou was finding. She was very aware of the pressure of his fingers, of the magic that tugged the last buttons, of the haste with which she was finding she too wanted her clothes out of the way. His month recaptured her's as the last buttons came undone, his embrace tight to her (although she wished it were closer as these bloody petticoats were altogether in the way). She ought to be embarassed, her mind suggested as the gown gaped open, but instead she found herself murmuring, "The sleeves." Against his lips, hoping he'd push them down her arms so she wouldn't have to leave his embrace, then it was shimmy the gown over the petticoats..... and then they'd be faced with the corset. But the petticoats, bustle, and shift were all minor after that.

  

---

Immediately, he followed her prompting, his arms moving from her shoulders and down her arms to rid her of the sleeves of her dress. And then, it was as if everything followed naturally. With the aid of more magic, the gown slid to the floor easily in a puddle at their feet. His hand snaked up the nape of her neck and tangled into her hair once more, urgently and fervently. His other arm wrapped tightly around her waist while his fingers deftly flicked at the knots of her laces. At the same time, magic flew through the air, drawing the curtains closed (though the privacy they were guaranteed here with their view was the best the hotel provided), and ridding Faustus of his own jacket, waistcoat and tie. All of these items slipped off in a synchronized dance, with Faustus shifting his grip here and there to accommodate for the rustling clothes.

But he stepped back only just as he gazed at her in a state of undress that practically brought him to his knees.

“Beautiful,” He murmured, his eyes raking up and down her figure as he drank in the sight of her. His hands came up to his collar and began to unbutton his shirt.

---

  

Malou had always valued magic and Faustus's wandless magic made her feel something akin to awe, it distracted her from her state of undress, from the novelty of it all. "I love you." She breathed into the space between them,.

Then he stepped away from her, watching her in a way that made her melt and burn at the same time. Skin she'd never known could flush was flushed and to hide her sudden embarassment at his compliment she reached forward and began to unbutton his shirt. She didn't have words for this moment but reveled in the brush of her fingertips touching his chest with each button as she took her time. Her breathe caught in her throat as more and more of skin peeked through, the taunt lines of his stomach, the curls of hair. She tilted her head up to his and captured his mouth in her's allowing the heat of the moment, how natural it felt, to wash around them. She didn't pause to embrace her embarassment but allowed the heat to fill her veins with the burning passion. This felt right. This felt like love and passion and everything it ought to be and with it she felt her heart tugging even closer to Faustus as if the beats of their hearts were one. One and the same from here until eternity.

-Fade out-

The following 1 user Likes Marie-Louise Prewett's post:1 user Likes Marie-Louise Prewett's post
   Faustus Prewett

---