(no subject)

[gallowseyes]

His rooms are, if not to his taste, then at least palatable. He's spent money on them -- soft draping and cushions, things to make it more comfortable, with less sharp edges. Setting his keys down on the counter, he turns to Bella, stepping forward until he's crowding into her space, just a little.

"Wine?" he asks. "Or, something else to your taste?"

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[gallowseyes]

He likes, he finds, the way she makes herself comfortable in his space. He's used to posturing -- the play acting that's necessary in a place like a King's court. This is entirely different.

"A memory," he says, musing, taking a sip of his wine. "I fell from my horse when I was a boy -- twelve, I think...maybe thirteen? I broke my arm, and it was the worst pain that I'd ever, ever felt. I was lucky I didn't break my neck. And it's blue." He takes another sip. "My favourite colour? Is blue." He gestures towards her with his glass. "Your turn. A memory, if you please."

[coursetofreedom]

"I have no memories of childhood," she answered, cradling her glass against her chest. "In Lisbon, I ate a dozen egg tarts and vomited on a balcony overlooking the city. I was lost and disoriented and saddened by an argument between two unknown lovers I had witnessed in the alley below. I believe it was my first experience with loneliness."

She offered this private moment to him without hesitation. While she was not quite so open with her thoughts as she'd been in those early, adventurous days, he had answered her question beautifully and she felt she owed him equal honesty.

"Mine is yellow. Or blue, also. I'm also rather fond of red. I suppose it changes, day to day."

[gallowseyes]

Sometimes, George wishes he didn't remember much of his childhood, but to have no memories at all seems like it would be a lonely thing on it's own, but then Bella tells her her memory and he's struck by how isolating it would have been.

"So I should avoid feeding you egg tarts," he says. "Noted." He takes another sip of his wine and then shifts position in the chair, lifting one leg to throw it over the arm of the chair. "One thing you've done in bed that you enjoyed and one thing you've never done, but you'd like to?"

It's an escalation, yes, but they both know where this conversation is leading.

[coursetofreedom]

"If I've never done it, how would I know if I'd like it?" Bella asked, her head cocked curiously. "I do enjoy cunnilingus. Both giving and receiving. And a vigorous pounding from behind, if the mood strikes."

She frowned thoughtfully.

"I'm not particularly fond of bondage. I find it rather boring, I think."

Then, turning an eager eye to him, she said, "Same question."

[gallowseyes]

"That is a good point," he concedes. "Though a person may fantasise, from time to time, even if they have no personal experience?" He does, at least. What she says next takes him back a little. He knows other men of his tastes, James among them -- men, women, all the same -- but he's never heard of a woman who felt similar. His cock takes notice.

"I enjoy both of those things," he says. "Though, obviously, it's a different manner of thing when I'm receiving." He thinks about the rest of the question. "I like the feeling of being fucked. Penetrated. I've never taken a woman's arse -- men, yes, but I feel like it would be a different experience. And I've always been tempted by bondage. To try it, at least."

Something shifts in him. He swallows the rest of the wine and sets his glass down.

"Come here?"

[coursetofreedom]

"They do have harnesses for women to wear, with fake rubber cocks," Bella said, remembering her visit to one of Darrow's local sex shops. "For fucking, I presume. That is something I might enjoy."

She stood, gathering her skirts, and moved to sit astride his lap.

"I've never fucked a man before. I had not entirely considered it as a possibility."

[gallowseyes]

"Dildos are generally for fucking, in my experience," he says, grinning, as she settles into his lap. His hand settle, at first on her hips but quickly slipping around to cup her arse, pulling her in more snuggly against him. He's had some experience of fake cocks, enjoyed the opportunity to fill -- or have filled -- more than one hole at once.

He raises an eyebrow, head tilted to look up at her.

"Perhaps you just haven't met the right man for it," he says.

[coursetofreedom]

"Perhaps not," she said knowingly, eyes bright as she rested her hands on his shoulders, her long hair falling in a curtain around them both. "I believe you should kiss me now, George Villiers."

[gallowseyes]

"Oh, do you?" he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts his weight a little, one hand staying on her arse, the other coming up to slip under the fragrant cover of her long hair to cup the side of her neck, his thumb against her jaw as he draws her down and into a warm, hungry kiss.

[coursetofreedom]

Yes, this was good. This was what she had been missing.

No, sex with strange men did not excite her. Sex at all hours, with no thought to anything else no longer did either. But she enjoyed the skilled touch of a man, especially one she was fond of, and this man was very well-mannered and very, very pretty.

She kissed him back with equal fervor, deft fingers finding their way to the buttons of his shirt.

[gallowseyes]

He feels her start to unbutton his shirt, and he's got no objection to that. Still kissing, his shifts the hand from her arse around, ghosting over the curve of one breast under her waistcoat before he thumbs open a button. Undressing women (undressing anyone) back home in England, had been a complicated affair, all laces and buttons and hooks. Here, though, that button opens as easy as anything, and he drops his hand, and starts on the next.