She hadn’t said anything, and she hadn’t stopped them yet. He had been expecting her to by now - he had been expecting almost anything but any of this - and every second that passed now made it feel more and more like a dream.
He’d been waiting for her to arrive as her letter had said, and compulsive cleaning was more knackering than he’d have thought, and he had evidently just dozed off on his bed before she’d gotten here, which explained the dreaming. The thing about Elsie being courted by someone else had come a little from left field, maybe, but so, he supposed, had this, and the vividness of this activity was definitely blurring his memory of the earlier conversation. Still, it was all feeling very vivid now, down to the tightness in his trousers, and when Elsie actually arrived later with some other news Tyb had a feeling he would be a little unusually flustered.
Since this was all probably a dream, though, the idea of being sensible was disintegrating at a rapid rate, all the consequences suddenly very far away. With a hand, he brushed an escaped tendril of her hair off her neck, his fingers tangling in it for a moment to loosen it properly, as hers were still in his - it was driving him mad in the best possible way; he had to fight the urge to moan aloud about it - and then moved downwards, more experimentally, pressing his mouth to her neck instead.
As if they were not close enough already - he was almost sure he could hear her heartbeat in his ears as strongly as he could his - Tyb let one of his hands travel downwards, still marvelling at how rare it was that they could touch each other at all, never mind finding her waist without having to be furtive about it. He moved his hand a little further and grasped fervently at the fabric of her clothes, mostly as an outlet for the desperation; although when he next adjusted his position he, half accidentally, tugged her skirts upwards with it, suddenly all too aware of her thighs.
He’d been waiting for her to arrive as her letter had said, and compulsive cleaning was more knackering than he’d have thought, and he had evidently just dozed off on his bed before she’d gotten here, which explained the dreaming. The thing about Elsie being courted by someone else had come a little from left field, maybe, but so, he supposed, had this, and the vividness of this activity was definitely blurring his memory of the earlier conversation. Still, it was all feeling very vivid now, down to the tightness in his trousers, and when Elsie actually arrived later with some other news Tyb had a feeling he would be a little unusually flustered.
Since this was all probably a dream, though, the idea of being sensible was disintegrating at a rapid rate, all the consequences suddenly very far away. With a hand, he brushed an escaped tendril of her hair off her neck, his fingers tangling in it for a moment to loosen it properly, as hers were still in his - it was driving him mad in the best possible way; he had to fight the urge to moan aloud about it - and then moved downwards, more experimentally, pressing his mouth to her neck instead.
As if they were not close enough already - he was almost sure he could hear her heartbeat in his ears as strongly as he could his - Tyb let one of his hands travel downwards, still marvelling at how rare it was that they could touch each other at all, never mind finding her waist without having to be furtive about it. He moved his hand a little further and grasped fervently at the fabric of her clothes, mostly as an outlet for the desperation; although when he next adjusted his position he, half accidentally, tugged her skirts upwards with it, suddenly all too aware of her thighs.
