Lady Mary Crawley (
thequitecontrary) wrote2017-07-02 09:35 pm
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Nighttime Visits
Another dinner between Steve and Mary's family had gone well. Of course, Steve was very polite and sociable, so they usually had a tendency to go well. He seemed to be getting along with her uncle, and while the two men were in conversation, Martha had asked Mary about where she felt this relationship was going. Mary didn't want to cause a fuss, so she was deliberately a bit vague. She told her grandmother that she was very fond of Steve. Martha asked about if a proposal was coming, and Mary was again vague. She didn't want to have this conversation with Steve in the room, even if he was on the other side of it. For her part, Martha was concerned, though not distressed. She did like Steve. He just seemed terribly unsuitable for her granddaughter and she wondered what the British contingent would have to say about it. Being Martha though, the idea of their reaction kind of amused her and she decided to let the chips fall where they may. And at least he wasn't the chauffeur.
After saying goodnight, Mary went up to her room, pleased that they'd had another good evening with Steve. They were warming to him, even if Mary didn't think that they would be advocates for this union when the time came to tell her parents about it. She sat down to write a letter to Sybil and had just started when she heard a rapping at the window.
That was curious. It didn't seem to be a branch. Steve usually tossed rocks up when he was trying to get her to go out with him, but he had just left. Mary got up and pulled back the curtain, surprised to see Steve sitting on the other side of the glass in the tree that was just outside her window. She quickly opened it and stuck her head out slightly.
"What are you doing?" she asked in a hushed voice.
After saying goodnight, Mary went up to her room, pleased that they'd had another good evening with Steve. They were warming to him, even if Mary didn't think that they would be advocates for this union when the time came to tell her parents about it. She sat down to write a letter to Sybil and had just started when she heard a rapping at the window.
That was curious. It didn't seem to be a branch. Steve usually tossed rocks up when he was trying to get her to go out with him, but he had just left. Mary got up and pulled back the curtain, surprised to see Steve sitting on the other side of the glass in the tree that was just outside her window. She quickly opened it and stuck her head out slightly.
"What are you doing?" she asked in a hushed voice.

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She tilted his chin up with her fingertips and pressed her lips to his again.
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Mary pulled back gently from the kiss and looked at him. "Should we?" She whispered.
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"I want to," he said in a hushed tone, warm against her lips. He took a slow breath, licking at his own lips and swallowing dryly as he looked her in the eye. "But... only if you want to."
He wasn't going to push her into doing something if she wasn't comfortable with where they were.
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It went without saying that regardless of what they did they would have to be quiet. They couldn't run any risk of getting caught.
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Not because he had expected to do anything during the actual dinner, but because he had considered the possibility of paying her a nighttime visit— just like he ended up doing.
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That was kind of arousing. She brushed her fingers down over his neck, then into the jacket that he was wearing, trying to push it off of his shoulders.
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"I definitely can't get enough of you," he said a bit more huskily, hands sliding up her sides again, until he was cupping her breasts over the fabric of her nightie. "You feel so good, Mary."
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Mary reached down and hiked the nightgown up her legs so that the hem rested on her thighs. Then she began to unbutton Steve's shirt.
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He kissed her deeply again, tongue plunging into her mouth, his hands leaving her for a moment just so he could help her unbutton his shirt faster. Tugging it off and letting it fall to the floor, his hands slid up her bare legs next, reaching her underwear and pulling it down her thighs while he mouthed at one of her nipples through the fabric.
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She stretched her legs out as he removed her panties from her legs, then spread them again so that he could move back between them. Her fingers threaded his hair as he sucked at her nipple. Mary could feel herself growing wetter with each second that passed.
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Pressing his tongue agains her hardened peak, he licked and nibbled lightly at the sensitive flesh. One hand settled on the curve of her thigh while the other trailed up between her legs, gentle but surely, until his fingertips were sliding past her folds and teasing her already wet slit.
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One of her hands moved down his back, caressing the bare flesh. "I want you so badly," she whispered. "Can you tell?"
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"I can tell," he muttered her words back to her, lips pulling from her breast and moving up to her neck instead. Fingertips rubbed lightly over her clit, then slid down so two fingers pushed slowly into her. "You're so wet already."
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Mary had never quite realized how good it could be when it was another person's hands. Steve's were infinitely better than her own.
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She was lost in the pleasure that he was giving her, still aware enough to keep her voice down, but with many of her inhibitions removed. He made her feel comfortable enough to ask for what she wanted.
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His free hand slid farther up her gown, curling around her slim waist. She was wearing much fewer clothes tonight, seen as she had been ready for bed at this point, something that Steve appreciated immensely. Pulling his lips from her neck, he tipped his head up, looking into her eyes as he kissed her softly.
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Mary panted quietly as she came down, resting her head against his.
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He slowed down as soon as she started relaxing against him. His thumb drew back but he still moved his fingers in and out of her a few more times, finally pulling out and lifting his hand up so he could lick her fluids from his fingers. "You taste wonderful. I want you so badly, Mary..."
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"I need a moment.. but I want you too."
There was a lot they could do in the meantime. She reached down to tug the hem of her nightgown up over her body.
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