time paradoxes are for doctor who- rp with libertinespirit

[canbebought]

((Continued from this))

He allows himself to feel ever so slightly smug at the brief look of astonishment on her face as the room melts into being around them, but it doesn't last long.  There is too much wonder in him, too much love and wild, disbelieving happiness in this moment; the two of them, both needing, come together by chance here in this

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[libertinespirit]

It has been many years since a man held her so, and not only for pleasures of the flesh, but to love, and to hold, to cherish and achieve a pleasure much greater than the futile escapes of a world so dark. And this is no mere man; this is Sexby, father of her child, keeper of her heart, a lost husband now miracously found again. Angelica can scarcely believe it, but those thoughts are chased away when Sexby's lips brush over the sensitive skin of her pale neck. She sighs deeply, tilting her head back ever so slowly, baring more paleness to his teasing lips, more wanting. She means not to be impatient, but a fire burns deep within her, a fire she thought had died forever. Biting down on her bottomlip, a delighted smile already blossoming in its corners, she shifts backwards, her bottom soon pressing into what she was seeking for.

"Good sir," she breathes, a low laugh caught in her throat, "What have we here?"

[canbebought]

She is so very eager, warm and wanting in his arms, and Sexby exhales a low sound against her skin, daring to scrape teeth over the curve of her neck. He tastes her, his tongue slipping out to touch, to trace wetly over her soft skin. When Angelica presses up against him, though, the motion of his hand ceases, and he stills, forehead pressed against her neck, simply breathing.

Dear God, that feels good

[libertinespirit]

The teasing scrape of his teeth followed by the feel of his hand on her breast has Angelica utter the softest of sounds, eyes falling shut, her lashes dark on her pale cheeks. For a moment her masquerade of temptress falls, and she is simply a woman in need. A need which can only be satisfied by one man. Nay, she never was a delicate bird. Certainly not after having shared a marriage bed with Edward Sexby

[canbebought]

A woman of spirit indeed! Sexby actually laughs into her renewed kiss, joy and amusement condensed into the sound. He has had even less cause to laugh than he has had to smile over the years of his life, but somehow it is not surprising; it's Angelica, after all. That she should free his laughter is nothing strange

[worldlyvisions]

[Angelica sits at the window, her back to the low sun. She is watching her still sleeping husband. She taps the boards with the toe of her boot and wonders whether to wake him. She puts it off a little longer by playing a game with herself. The object is to guess Edward Sexby's age - although it is pointless, as she doubts even he could tell her the exact answer. How well they know each other, even so. She wonders whether to wake him.]

[OOC: Sorry for popping up where I probably shouldn't, but Ange and I wanted to wish Sexby a Happy Birthday. :P]

[canbebought]

[Sexby cannot recall a time when last he slept so soundly. Usually his sleep is dreamless and heavy, the sleep brought on by the exhaustion of labour, or else fitful and tossing, his mind wary even when his body would not be. Now, though, he's heavy on the bed, asleep like a babe, and when waking comes upon him, it is slow, gradual, like a sunrise over the fell, and he stretches, eyes blinking in the light.]

[A dream, surely.]

[But no dream. For there she is, sitting at the sill, and he can feel in his own body the lingering warmth of her touch. Shifting lazily on the bed, careless of his nakedness, he turns to smile at her, silent.]

((OOC: Noooo, never! What a delight it was to see Angelica pop up in my inbox.))