There was no point in fighting him — his grip was strong as iron and the fact that he had one arm under her bare legs...no, she wouldn't think about that. Her heart rate had increased significantly, and she realized her breathing had become shallow. It was cold, and she quickly realized that she'd much rather prefer the warmth of Dory's body close to hers than the ground beneath her. So she relented and stopped struggling, toying with the hem of her chemise while he found a spot to put her. It was quite possibly the quickest she'd obeyed him since this morning.

As they jolted when he almost slipped, Mabel found herself wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her self closer to him; whether it was to help his center of gravity or merely to draw herself closer, she didn't know. "I should have cast some warming charms." She mused into his neck, tensing as she felt him falter once more.

---

  

---

Warming charms. Those were something concrete he could focus on as she nuzzled into his neck. There were a few different ones as far as he knew, would it matter if he casted them all? Perhaps if she was warm her chemise might dry and he'd be able to at least think straight again. (Then again, if he casted too many warming charms she might sweat, which would also soak her thin dress.)

They reached the grass within another minute and Dory gently lowered her to the ground. Reaching for his wand, he casted two warming charms he knew of and bent to examine her feet. The cuts weren't anything major from the look of them, but he wasn't a healer. "Is there anything in your bags that'll help heal them?" He asked, still adamantly avoiding looking directly at her to help preserve whatever modesty she had left.

---

  

Once settled onto the grass, she immediately missed the comfort of his arms (and the smell of - no, no she would not focus on that). The warming charms felt like a balm against a burn, though the effect was quite the inverse. She felt more comfortable, and yet the cold that had taken over her also somehow seemed like it had held the last bit of her inhibitions. Once the cold started to fade away, she became frighteningly aware of just how much of her he could see...and what he could see through. Oh lord.

No, this would not do. Either she had to get to her cloak or she needed to splash her face with cold water again, as if that held the key to keeping her mind off of the absolutely compromising state she was currently in.

"Here, it's alright, I can go get them instead," She said hastily, pulling her feet from his view and quickly pushing herself up from the grass. "They're just in my bag along with — with other things." She murmured, grabbing onto his arm to avoid the world spinning once more.

---

  

---

He could sense the second her mood changed, though he wouldn't ever be able to name what caused the shift. Eyeing her nervously Dory shifted a foot back with the hopes of helping her feel more comfortable. Only, the added space gave her the room to stand and wave off any attempts of help. Rising alongside her, Dory was quick to offer a steadying hand.

Her grip on him felt heavier than someone with only injured feet, causing Dory to stop her in her tracks by stepping directly in her path. "Please, let me help." He murmured, reaching up to cup her cheek softly with his free hand. "I can get your things for you and will give you whatever space you need."

---

  

Even as she got to her feet with his help, taking a step forward quite literally felt as if she were stepping on pin and needles. Her feet screamed at her to take a seat, to let him take care of her for once, but the sensation only served as fodder to the growing feeling in her chest; something she wasn't able to put her finger on, a cross between desperation and....frustration.

His stepping in front of her to block her path only served to push that frustration even higher as she met his concerned gaze. His hand came up to press his palm against her cheek and Mabel nearly leaned into it, her eyes fluttering as she resisted seizing his hand and pressing a thousand kisses into it.

That. Yes, that was what she wanted. And yet he still seemed to be looking at her with such a piteous gaze that she felt only felt fragile and meek and helpless and immobile and — "Stop it, Dory!" she exclaimed, her hand coming up to take his and wrench it away as she spun around, walking a few paces away from him. She'd seen the look on his face last night and she could see it happening once again.

There was that odd thrumming in her chest again as she turned back to him. "It is not space, that I want!" She was tired of feeling as if he were handling her with kid gloves. "I am not a fragile thing and yet you keep treating me as if I'm about to burst into a million pieces right in front of you." Mabel even had to avoid looking at him to even get the words out. "I am fine —" So help her if she had to say that word one more time tonight... "— I've been through much worse and that —" Here she brandished her hand at the inky black lake. "— is not the first brush with death that I've dealt with. If you hadn't noticed, that is what I deal in on a daily basis!"

If she were in her wolf form again she'd be snarling, and yet still her eyes flashed as she paced in front of him, now heedless of the sudden shyness from before. "I don't want you to give me space, I don't want you to look at me like I'm some thing to be pitied! I want - I want —" She broke off suddenly, as if someone had just cast silencio on her, and stared at Dory, trembling slightly. Her hands tingled and she dug her palms into her fists, begging them to stop as she tried to gather the words as to what she wanted.

---

  

---

"You are fragile to me!" Dory shouted back, suddenly grateful she had chosen such a remote place for her dance with death. "And I don't care if that was your first or fiftieth brush with death, I'll not apologize for trying to keep you safe." He hadn't been able to keep Winnie safe, he hadn't spared the long lost mother of his child some gruesome death in childbirth. There were so many women he'd failed over the years that failing Maple as well wasn't an option. Even if she despised him for it, even if he lost her friendship, at least she'd be safe.

His chest heaved with frustrated breaths. Sure, she was able to scream about how he'd been suffocating her (which Dory would realize later was something he truly needed to work on) but she couldn't explain why it infuriated her so. "What do you want then? Fuck, Maple! I've been trying to respect you, trying not to treat you with anything less than the dignity you deserve, trying to do everything but what I want with you." Even now, Dory could think of nothing else but molding his body against hers and kissing her until the sun rose. Not that that was an option here.

"Do you know how difficult it was waking up with you this morning and continuing on about my day as if nothing happened?! Or last night?" Seeing her in his home whilst barely dressed had nearly broken his resolve, especially when she'd joined him in the kitchen. "I'll give you whatever it is you want — the sky, a home, my leaving you alone — you just need to tell me what it is that you want." A home was a far bigger promise than he meant to make (and was likely some of his frustration with Winnie bleeding through to this situation) but he meant it all the same. Or, at least, he thought he did.

---

  

In all her outburst, she hadn't expected him to agree with her, to admit that he thought she was fragile. As if to prove his point, Mabel blanched, immediately feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. But instead of sadness bubbling up in her chest, she realized, her palms prickling even more, as if she were lighting flames in them, it was something else. Before she could even place the feeling, she flinched slightly as she heard his curse reverberate around her. No longer was he calm and steady, as she'd expected him to be, but incensed. It could have been the light but Mabel would swear his eyes had blackened as he shouted at her.

Waking up with him this morning...she hadn't thought about it, or allowed herself to think about it until now. The morning had started in his arms, pure and simple. She'd woken up to the wonderful, intoxicating scent of him next to her, and even though it'd taken a few seconds to register they were completely intertwined together, even after realizing it, she bathed in the spine-tingling sensation of burying herself once more into his arms before the owl had come to call and beckon her to work.

She still didn't know if he'd been awake for the last part where she had paused to look at him sleeping, so peaceful and yet even then she wouldn't deny that he would leap up ready to tackle the world if she called on him to do so. Dory then was so different and still so similar to the man before her now, beseeching her to tell him what she wanted.

The sky, a home - a home! - turning around and leaving her.

"No, please," She found her voice, stunned after hearing his confession; the confession of him trying to do everything but what he wanted to do with her. But that must have meant.... "Please, don't...don't leave me alone." Mabel swallowed as another gust of the night air blew through their little patch of grass. In the distance she could hear the sound of the waves calmly lapping at the edge of the beach where she'd sworn that she would be bold, and face her fears. And yet it seemed that her wants and desires and fears were gathered together in an infuriatingly tangled knot, standing in front of her in the form of Dory. How in God's name was she supposed to face all of those at once?

"You." She heard herself say. "I want you."

---

  

---

A thousand responses came to mind but none could adequately explain the thoughts in his head so much as closing the gap between them entirely. His hands cupped her cheeks as he pressed his lips to hers. Although Dory reminded himself to be gentle as this was her first kiss, there was a degree of desperation behind his movements. Almost as if he'd melt into the black lake like her ice if she were to pull away now.

---

  

As soon as the words left her, Mabel raised a hand up to her lips as if to catch them and take them back. No, no this was not what was supposed to happen, nor how it was supposed to —

Except then he was moving towards her, closing the space between them as if it were a half a step even though he had seemed so far away, and his lips were on hers. It was soft and gentle at first, and Mabel finally placed a feeling on that thrumming in her chest as her heart felt as if it were about to burst out of her chest. And then the kiss grew quickly in its firmness and urgency, and it was all Mabel could to to keep up, her lips capturing his the only way she knew how.

As their lips parted, if only to adjust slightly, Mabel let out an exhilarated gasp before reaching up to clutch at his lapels. God, she wanted to be closer to him, and yet they were pressed as close together as they could be. "Dory —" She managed to say his name between gasps, pressing herself further into him as if that were possible. There had been nothing further she wanted to say to him, no requests, no supplication; just his name.

---

  

---

I want you.

Maple had asked for exactly this and yet as Dory's hands moved from her cheeks to her waist to draw her in further a small seed of guilt spread in his gut. She wanted this, he knew that, but just yesterday she hadn't even known what this was. She stared at him in horror and shock when she brushed against his member, and now it was fully pressed against her stomach like she was some wanton woman. Somehow, Dory knew this would spell ruin for them.

Somehow, he couldn't quite bring himself to care.

A strangled groan escaped him as she gasped out his name and he gripped her waist tighter. Unlike last night there was nothing but thin fabric between his hands and her skin, a fact he was too keenly aware of as the chemise bunched in his hands. A few more inches and her bottom half would be completely exposed. Merlin, now that this was happening it was all he could think of.

Too impatient to wait for the thin dress to be fully rucked up, Dory's hands moved from her waist to her bottom, his fingers sinking into her flesh. He broke their kiss then and lent his forehead against hers, another (albeit less ragged) groan filling the air between them. "Fuck, Maple."

---

  

She should have been so self-conscious, so painfully aware of how close he was. How pressed against her he'd become, and how shameful she'd been raised to feel of this very scenario. How many times had she been told that such acts outside of marriage were the very stuff of Sins? And yet it was with vindictive relish blooming in her chest that she allowed the pit of hunger in her stomach to widen; that she welcomed the feeling of his iron grip on her as he toyed with her chemise. More, more, more. Such a thin, fragile piece of fabric that could be so easily torn.

And then his hands moved from her waist down further, and she inhaled sharply, tensing in delight at the delicious pressure that shot through her.

The moment he parted was the moment she nearly whimpered at the absence of his lips. Hearing her name on his lips sent a buzzing through her brain, warm and pleasant and triumphant; for the first time there wasn't any pity in his voice as he said her name. There was no regret, no sadness, no frustration — but hunger, and lust. It was a taste of what she'd been searching for since last night, and she didn't want to let it go. Her eyes closed as she felt him lean his forehead against hers. As they fluttered open again, she caught sight of his neck, and could barely make out a fluttering at the base of it: his heartbeat, erratic and pulsing.

"Yes?" She murmured, leaning forward to press her lips into the skin on his neck. She even felt brazen enough to brush the skin with her tongue first before her lips descended.

---

  

---

It occurred to him more than once that they ought to find somewhere more private than this. This side of the lake was protected by forests yes, but anyone out for a night flight could easily spot them in the moonlight. Suggesting a quick flight back to his flat was the natural progression here, for surely Maple didn't expect to be pushed up against a tree? There had to be somewhere they could go — somewhere they could take their time until she was falling apart around him.

Except, just as he was gathering his thoughts to suggest a new locale, Maple bloody licked him and all sense abandoned Dory.

He lifted her off the ground completely then, her chemise being lifted to her navel in the process. His hips involuntarily rolled against the newfound heat felt through his trousers. Quickly, Dory found himself calculating where best they might go to ensure as little pain to her as possible. A tree's bark would scratch her back to shreds after all, and to return to the rocks wasn't feasible. There was some tall, lush grass further into the treeline though. It wasn't a comfortable mattress where she'd be able to fully relax, but it'd half to do.

"Do you trust me?" He murmured, pressing his lips to the spot behind her ear.

---

  

Before she knew it, she was being lifted off the ground, his hand supporting her and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. The fabric of her chemise hiked up to her waist and Mabel gasped as she felt him against her center - tried to resist tightening her grip around him, tried to resist the urge to crush his lips against hers once more.

Instead her hand came up to tangle in his hair, and she tightened her grip on him with her thighs to hike herself up more, propping her forearms on his shoulders. Her back arched as the cool breeze of the night tangled itself in hair, skittering across her nearly bare shoulders and through her thin shift.

His breath tickled her ear and Mabel found herself wishing he would tease her skin there more; it tickled and instead she wanted teeth, as a glowing heat pooled itself in her abdomen.

Trust — hadn’t she given it the other night? What more must she do to let Dory know exactly how much she trusted him? It was there in his arms that she felt safe, that she felt like she was leaving something more with him, something more than trust. “Yes,” She breathed raggedly, tightening her grip on his hair once more. “For God’s sake, Dory, yes.”

---

  

---

His urgency to be inside her only grew in intensity as he felt her hands in his hair. Never would Dory have expected Maple to be so aggressive in her touch but it set Dory's skin aflame. She was a siren disguised as an angel, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Maple was everything — pure perfection.

They made it to the grass without any major catastrophes. (Well, there was one near collision into a tree, but Dory had spotted it soon enough that he didn't think Maple noticed. Truthfully, Dory was convinced Maple was so far gone into a lust driven bliss that he could have begun reciting his shopping list and she still would have been as hot against him.) He carefully navigated them down into the grass so that he was eventually seated with her snug against him. Merlin, if he didn't relieve the strain of his trousers soon their night would be over before it began.

Kissing along her jaw, Dory soon guided her lips back to his and nudged the chemise further up her chest. His hands greedily took in the newly revealed expanse of skin, ghosting along her sides before flattening on her back. He wanted the chemise gone completely, but having only just resumed kissing her again he was loathe to pull away so soon.

---

  

By now, between her and Dory the heat from their bodies had dried her chemise somewhat; it was for this reason that the fabric brushing up against her skin caused something electric to shoot down her spine as he brushed it up and over her chest. It was by reflex that she felt herself press further into his lap as he sat them down, feeling her shoulders flex with newfound freedom as he peppered exquisite kisses along her jaw.

The feeling of his hands on her bare back saw a gasp escape from her as she stretched, her hand coming to take the chemise and willingly pull it over her head.

There, looking down at him, her eyes dark, she recognized the famished look on his face from last night — a night that seemed so long ago, she had been so certain there was an inward shift between then and now — which was now reflected in her own expression. Watching him for a moment, bathed in moonlight against the lush greenery of the forest, she felt that growing, familiar hunger pool in her abdomen once more, curling and twisting until it propelled her forward and she captured his mouth once more with hers, this time her hands moving to his shirt, tugging desperately at the buttons to remove the last bits of fabric between them. More, more, more.

It was as if something else possessed her, and she was no longer the timid, careful Mabel who had fallen in the lake. Perhaps it was Dory who had done something to her, who drew this part of her out, on whose face she wanted to see this awed, ravenous expression, or perhaps it was how sick she had been of feeling helpless, feeling vulnerable and fragile.

As she trailed kisses along his jawline and back to his mouth, her lips found his and she caught his bottom one between her teeth before giving it an experimental nibble.

---

  

---

With her chemise gone there was nothing stopping his touch from roaming higher. The skin of her back was as smooth as porcelain, the sides of her breasts soft and generous. He yearned to lay her back and kiss every inch of exposed skin, thought to do exactly that, but then she was yanking on his buttons and his sensual intentions were shoved aside. Leaning backwards on his hands, Dory afforded her more room to undo his shirt as he stared unabashed at her chest.

Several buttons were soon missing from his shirt and his undershirt had disappeared somewhere into the nearby brush, but there was no longer any clothing separating their upper halves. Already, Dory pulled at the laces of his trousers, wishing to hell that he'd thought to change into more loose fitting ones before seeking her out. (How was he to know this was what was to come of apologizing, though? The only other woman it'd ever worked on was Winnie and even then it was more of a placeholder for the argument than a genuine apology.)

When he finally managed the laces, Dory nudged her to balance on her knees while he shimmied his pants down to his ankles and immediately fused his lips back to hers. It would take only the slightest roll of her hips for his throbbing member to enter her, one small adjustment - that was it. He didn't even need to reach between her legs to sense just how ready she was, as her heat radiated against him more than any slight touch would reveal.

"It can pinch a bit the first time," he murmured against her lips in a last ditch effort to still be conscious of her virginity. "We'll ease into it when you're ready, okay?"

---