Rated for sexual content -- please read responsibly and enjoy this rather gratuitous (on my part, anyways) series of little moments. :) Reviews would be nice, simply for further inspiration.
Part One: Wanton
Maria woke with a start, the unpleasant jerk to her lower navel sending her heart rate through the roof and causing her to breathe heavily. She had always hated awakening to the sensation that she was falling out of bed, and groggily staring over her shoulder, she saw why that was. Marta and Gretl had crammed themselves between their parents during last night's thunderstorm, and it was then that Maria realized how cold she was. She was used to being spooned up against Georg all night, and here she was teetering on the edge of her own bed. Grimacing, she sat up and pulled her robe around her, intending to heat up water for some tea in order to remedy her chilled state.
She paused when she heard her husband move; upon turning around, she saw him tying the sash of his own robe. Walking around to the front of the bed, he put his finger to his lips and beckoned her to follow him. She did so, closing their bedroom door softly behind her as not to wake her daughters.
"I'm chilled, Georg," she whispered. "I wanted to make some tea."
"It's only a few hours past midnight," he responded softly, taking one of her icy hands in his own. "Let's go to your old room."
"M—my old room?" Maria stuttered, almost astonished, and still half groggy. At the moment, she was more keen on scalding the roof of her mouth with a spicy tea, and not so much following her husband all over the house.
Her husband flashed her a silent smile, but she didn't miss the burn in his ice-blue eyes. She rubbed her eyes quickly, biting her lip.
"Surely… Georg, we can't, the children—"
"Hush, darling, or the children will indeed be our problem." Georg took his wife's hand firmly in his hand and led her towards the smaller, lonely bedroom on the opposite side of the second floor. The journey to Maria's former quarters of occupancy under the employment of her now-husband took a mere moment to reach, it seemed. As soon as that door clicked shut behind them, Maria found herself backed up against the armoire, and she suddenly felt awake; the powerful ache in the pit of her stomach leapt in her body as flames, and her heartbeat was accelerating once more.
"Two weeks, and it could have been less," Georg grunted as he claimed the hollow of her neck.
"How did you know?" Maria asked breathlessly, her still-icy hands fumbling to untie her husband's robe.
"What?" He was removing her nightgown now, kneading her breasts. They were leaking unashamedly, still respondent to stimulation despite the fact that their daughter had been weaned for nearly two months—Maria had found breastfeeding too painful once most of Annaliese's front teeth poked through her constantly swollen gums.
"How long," she returned breathlessly, arching against the chest behind her as her husband began to suckle her nipples. "I was trying to recall. I should hate you for keeping track." Her hands were entangling themselves in her husband's thick hair. Against her leg, she felt her husband's erection building. Biting his shoulder, she let him yank down her panties, the remaining barrier between her and him.
"No self-control," she mumbled, wrapping her legs around him as he lifted her onto him. She took his face in her hands, her own lips crashing on his. Georg moaned into her mouth as he took a firmer grasp on her behind, shifting her weight as she bucked into him, pinned between the armoire and his body. His release came quickly, and moments thereafter, he managed to stagger backwards several steps; they fell onto the bed, their bodies layered in a sheen of sweat, Maria collapsed over Georg and breathing heavily.
"I don't think I ever get used to the shocking thrill," Maria whispered in her husband's ear several silent minutes later, the only sound being their ragged breathing slowing to a more reasonable pace. He was still inside her, and she slowly worked her body upright. There was a twinkle in her eye, and she flashed him a wickedly charming smile, asking, "Cat got your tongue, Captain?" as she again began to thread her hands through his hair.
Georg groaned audibly. "You are the most manipulative woman, my dear Fräulein. One moment you're questioning whether we should be making love, and the next, you've beat me at my own game. It is horribly emasculating." His voice was a soft hum as he traced his hands over her sides, along the curve of her breasts, across her collarbone, and across the expanse of her soft, flat stomach.
Maria purred, "You're lying outright," and bent down to trail kisses along his chest.
She had a point. Georg groaned again, lifting Maria's weight from his chest. She whimpered for the empty feeling, but found a rapid requital as she fell slightly to his side and he rose up on his knees in front of her. Without a second thought, she opened her legs to him, and he gripped her knees, driving into her quickly and entirely. She gasped his name in that voice she accumulated in the throes of lovemaking, a voice mixed with wonder and lust, and a love that couldn't be expressed otherwise. Even when she was singing, she never achieved a sound quite like this—it was a voice Georg knew only he would hear and it sent a surge of masculine pride through him every time he heard it.
"Say something more," he asked as he brushed his fingers between her legs and thrust into her again. "Please."
Maria found herself back in her husband's arms as she emitted with near-desperation, "I love you, I love you!" She ground her hips in rhythm with Georg's, and as he thrust into her once more, causing an orgasm to course through her body, Maria heard thunder break overhead, followed by the heavy sound of rain. Georg's release had come at the end of the first roll of thunder, and a second roll began as they lay entangled together, Georg on top of Maria.
Maria could hear her heart pounding in her ears as she absorbed the aftershocks of her orgasm, only vaguely aware of Georg's weight on top of her. She opened her eyes and craned her head to look at her husband, whose eyes were closed. She traced his face with a finger, kissing him on the nose before asking him to let her up.
The thunder was rumbling overhead at a steady rhythm now, rain pounding soothingly on the roof. Maria found it to be highly relaxing combination of sounds as she drew water for a hot bath. Running water, rolling thunder, pounding rain… and the touch of her husband's hands on her shoulders as he leaned down to pepper the back of her neck with kisses. Her insides positively melted for the serendipity of this moment; it was in no way rushed and heated, but instead cadenced and blissful. Ducking from Georg's grasp, Maria lifted her slender legs over the edge of the bathtub and sank into it, making her intentions all the more clear as she reached up and took her husband's chin in her hands and kissed him deeply, biting gently on his lower lip.
A crack of lightning halted their actions, and they simply gazed into each other's eyes. Maria's eyes followed Georg as he straightened up and stepped into the tub, lowering himself onto her. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub and she hit her head on its marble edge as he thrust himself into her and they simply let themselves be, holding each other in the midst of the storm.
Only when the thunder clapped, this time further into the distance, did Georg pick up a steady rhythm again, enjoying the sounds of the water sloshing around them, the rain pummeling the roof, the storm waging in the skies, and Maria's low, pleasure-filled groans.
Her arms emerged from the bath water to grasp his torso, pulling him down lower; in that moment, staring into the tremendously beautiful eyes of the woman he loved, Georg knew that whatever had happened in his past and hers, the love they shared right now would make it bearable to face the future in front of them, no matter what happened.
Maria saw the moody darkness cross her husband's face, and she murmured, "Oh, love, I'm here. I'm here." Her tone was warm, comforting, and reassuring as she traced his jaw.
Georg, filled with an overwhelming desire to express the magnitude of what he felt, took his wife's chin in his hand and kissed her deeply and deeper, working his body against hers so that he could feel the eventual tremors of her physical desire for an outlet. When he felt her heart literally pounding into his chest, he pulled himself from the depths of her body, instead placing his fingers between her legs, brushing her gently, teasingly.
He took a great pleasure in watching her face as he touched her in this way; it had taken her time to become accustomed to it, but the act itself had been introduced almost immediately into their marriage some two years prior. Where once, she had been uncertain and calculating of this more unconventional pleasure, she now thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it. Georg smirked at this thought, for it coincided with the orgasm they both knew was coming.
Maria cried his name and arched her spine, clawing at her husband's back, and the second it was over, they both were aware of the dead silence around them. "The storm must have passed," Maria concluded, chest still heaving.
Indeed, it had.
The smell of wet earth was rich and sharp, and Georg relished the scent coming from the window Maria had opened before crawling into bed next to him again. She dozed lightly, her head resting on his chest, her wet hair transferring beads and streaks of water onto Georg's own skin. The thoughts swirling in Georg's mind at this moment were simple, but every one of them were entangled into a mass, as they always seemed to be after lovemaking, and it frustrated him. Maria had learned quickly not to take offense by his disposition, and rather took the time allotted to come back into her own frame of mind, and also to talk with her husband.
"How are we going to explain this to Frau Schmidt?" Maria eventually murmured, breaking the silence. She had to admit they had done some interesting things in the past few years, but they had never ventured into another bed besides their own to pursue marital acts.
"Are there still clean sheets in the armoire?"
"I think so, yes."
Georg grunted at this, his non-verbal response quite clear.
Maria sat up and glanced at the clock, yawning. It was four thirty, and she wouldn't have minded going back to sleep. She was about to bend down and retrieve her nightgown, but Georg's arm suddenly snaked around her waste and pulled her back to lie on him. He threaded his fingers through her wet hair, and Maria sighed contentedly, waiting for him to say something.
"Tell me a fantasy, Maria."
Craning her neck, Maria looked up as best she could. "A fantasy of what nature, Captain?"
"A fantasy that does not involve politics, finances, servants, eight loud children, Max Dettweiler, or anything else to be considered a nuisance," Georg answered.
"I'm afraid that leaves only us," Maria pondered.
Maria smiled at her husband's suggested items involved in the process of elimination; she had to admit she enjoyed it. "Well, it may sound silly, but…" she hesitated, wondering if she really wanted to reveal such a devious thought.
"Yes?" Georg's curiosity was more than piqued.
"I wouldn't mind making love on one of your ships," Maria rushed, feeling her cheeks begin to burn.
Georg chuckled at her ability to imagine, responding, "Indeed, there are certain advantages to lovemaking when the sea is just right and the sea captain feels the need for the warm, tender flesh of his beloved."
Maria whimpered as he kneeled over her, massaging her breasts again.
"You love this," he whispered, leaning into her ear.
"Please, Georg, don't. The doctor says I'll never stop lactating if you won't stop touching," she groaned, knowing she was falling on her own sword.
"Tell me what else you like," he muttered in a low tone.
Maria searched her husband's eyes, knowing this would be her undoing. "You know what I like," she quipped helplessly. "I know you were thinking about everything just now."
"I love hearing it from you all the same." He was stroking the insides of her thighs now, watching for her reactions.
The truth was, Maria loved it whenever Georg touched her body, and wherever. But she knew the game he was playing with her. He wouldn't let her cover their tracks until he'd pried out of her mouth what he wanted to hear.
"I…" she faltered, trying to combat the blushes assaulting her cheeks. It was one thing to do, and quite another thing to say. "I like it when you… when you kiss the hollow of my neck, my breasts, the insides of my thighs…"
"Is that all?" Georg taunted, looking up as he finished trailing light kisses along Maria's firm legs, causing them to quiver and twitch at his touch. He worked his way up her body to her neck, where he suckled the soft, warm flesh.
"No, it isn't," she gasped in a whisper. "I love when you make me climax by just touching me."
Maria was sure she couldn't blush a deeper shade of scarlet. "When you're inside me, and you, well.,." she stumbled, "I can feel…"
"And you love that? Maria?"
Closing her eyes, she nodded, wishing she were a child able to crawl into a hole to hide. "I feel so close to you. And there's one more thing. I love it when you say my name."
Taking a breath, she opened her eyes, determined to meet her husband's gaze. "Yes."
Georg reached out to stroke her face, and then took her once more, stating firmly, "I love you," as she propelled herself into his embrace.
She simply let herself marvel at the closeness they shared, moving within each other as one soul, as partners, as husband and wife.