✯ ciara ✯

I pout my rouged lips further, crossing my arms. My blue, lacy robe, hemmed with fur, does nothing to protect me from the cold morning air. I tap my stockinged foot, waiting for my compliment.

Tom adjusts his spectacles as he looks me once over. He smiles at me and tilts his head, "very pretty. Blue suits you well."

I immediately beam and shut the door, rushing to his side.

He chuckles to himself and pushes his chair back, allowing me my seat on his lap. He brushes my hair away from my nape, kissing me there, "I am afraid I must insist that you allow me two hours to finish my work, my love."

I turn to him, shifting to his left thigh. I pout again, "Mr. Hayward."

The sound of his name is much softer, more careful. Tom knits his brows imperceptibly. His palm rubs my back then my arm. His eyes fall to my bosom, which my robe barely covered. He tightens the sheer fabric, tucking my taffeta slip uselessly beneath it, "Mrs. Hayward, you are cold."

I whine under my breath, shaking my head, "Mr. Haywaaaard."

"Yes," he catches my wrists when I begin to shake him by the shoulders, "yes, tell me. Tell me."

I huff and stare at his collar for a second.

He tilts his head, lowering his gaze in hopes I'd catch it, "what?" He mutters ever so softly, grabbing my hand to press a kiss on my wrist, "tell me, I beg."

I wet my lips with my tongue before locking my eyes on his sparkling brown ones. I clutch his cheeks, taking a moment to examine the freckles peppered across his cheeks, then I kiss him there, marking him red with the shape of my lips.

He speaks my name.

My belly reacts to him before my breath does. I wipe the rouge mark away. My inhale comes a strangled, "I wish to present my case to you today."

Tom blinks.

I chew my lips and finally meet his eyes.

He takes my wrists again, rubbing my pulse as his spectacles slip down his nose, "should I be worried?"

I slowly shrug, lacing my fingers into his, "that is not for me to say, Mr. Hayward."

He sighs, slumping slightly in his chair. He speaks my name again.

"Hmm?" I raise my brows.

"Will it distract me from my work?"

My brows stay raised through I begin to look around the room.

He sighs again when my lower lip juts out once more. He swipes it, then promptly grabs my hips, "I think we are done here."

"No, please!" I cling on his bicep, "it's not going to distract you, I swear it!"

The way he speaks my name makes a shiver run down my spine.

I look up at him, his stern look practically forces me to chew my lower lip, "Tommy."

"Goodness, me," he sighs, knowing nothing ever good comes when I call him that.

I procure a list from between my breasts and hand it to him.

He turns to it, taking it between my his fingers before flattening it out

"You're not even going to smell it?!"

He turns to me, wide-eyed and flabbergasted.

"It came from my bosom!"

Tom laughs, throwing his head back as he did. He grabs my cheeks to press a kiss on my throat. He groans, "ahhh, my silly girl."

I lick my lips, pleased when he brings the paper to his nose.

"Mmm, smells of roses and milk."

I grin, "correct." I tap his nose, "my smart boy."

He gives me a toothy, lopsided grin, finally turning back to the list with a shake of his head.

"To the love of my life— me," he gives me a quick glance, "Solicitor Thomas Hayward of the City of London— also me," he glances once again, "I—" he speaks my name, "—wish to campaign for the following."

I nod, giddy and warm as he reads my words.

"One," he raises a finger, "a purchase of 5 new dresses for spring."

I purse my lips and nod in confirmation.

"Five," he stretches his palm.

I nod rapidly, "yes."

"And it says for spring," he turns back to the paper, "meaning, presumably, come summer, I am to expect the same campaign."

I shrug, looking around innocently, "perhaps..." I fidget with his buttons, "... only if I am bored with my spring garbs."

"Ahhhhh," he rests his hand atop my lap, "tell me, is there something wrong with your spring garbs from the previous season?"

I narrow my eyes as I turn to the ceiling, "I sure hope not. They were quite pretty."

He groans, nostrils flaring, jaw clenching. He continues reading the list, "Two: 5 pairs of shoes to go with these dresses."

"Naturally," I nod.

"Naturally," he nods, "three: a set of amber jewelry, or a similar gem which is earthy or resembles the sun."

I point to the paper as I lean on his shoulder, "this, I think, is the most vital one on the list."

"Is it?" Tom presses his lips to the crown of my head, "is it not number four: morning picnics and afternoon strolls with my husband?"

"Well," I pull away to raise my hands, "this last one goes without saying."

He sighs, slumping even further in his seat.

I click my tongue, "oh, Tommy, don't slouch, you'll give yourself scoliosis, which is terribly unattractive, especially for a man of your age."

My husband snorts, grabbing my hips as he straightens us both up I make a soft sound, belly rolling with the casual reminder of his strength.

"You know, my love, I have not one, not two, but three new cases under my belt this season. And those are aside from the other cases I still have ongoing."

I purse my lips and shrug, "well, yes. You've been recently promoted..." I massage his shoulders, "I expect that you'd have more work along with more pay."

Tom chuckles, throwing my list to his desk haphazardly. "Well, yes," he mimics, "but I think you forget I still do not make half as much as your father does, for though he and I both practice law, I have no title of land to my name."

My eyes fall on the gentle curve of his lips. I bring an arm over his shoulders, "to our name."

I hear his breath hitch. He closes his eyes as he nods, "yes, Mrs. Hayward, our name."

I think for a moment, glancing once over to my list, "I don't think it is awfully expensive," I look back at him, "it's not as though I requested a new carriage for our house."

"Ah," he brings a hand to my rib, "but you see, therein lies the problem." His other hand threads through the hair by the side of my head, "if my lady love requests as much, I would be obliged to comply."

I purse my lips at the idea, badly trying to conceal my smile as I lean into his touch, "but I have not requested such a thing!"

"Of course not," he traces my jaw with his thumb. His other hand brings me closer to him by the small of my back, "but I know my silly girl is privy to such requests."

"I am n-no—" my eyes fall to my lap when his hand brushes my robe way and pushes my slip up my thighs.

Tom's eyes never leave my face as his fingers ghost over my garter belt, slowly trailing higher up my hip.

I clench my teeth and gulp, "... I-" I part my legs slightly.

He smiles to himself, "what kind of husband would I be to leave my darling wife wanting?"

I bite my lip and lean into his neck. I whisper against his ear, "Tom."

"We must meet a compromise," his hands promptly find my knee, pushing my legs together as he readjusts me atop him.

My shoulders rise and fall heavily; my belly aches with need.

"Compromise, my love," he reminds with a pat on my thigh.

I begin to scowl.

He practically comes alive at the sight of it. He grabs my list and a quill, wetting the tip with ink before scribbling on the paper, "how about one dress—

"O-one?"

"One pair of shoes."

"B-but my brothers will be hosting a—"

I gasp when he crosses out number three. "And no amber jewelry."

"No jewelry?!"

Tom chuckles, placing his quill down in lieu of clutching my shoulders.

"Oh, Tom, you might as well be done with the entire list!"

He does not chuckle again at the sight of my sincerely distress. He rubs my arm, "oh, but there's number four. And if you wish for number four, you must understand that I would have to clear my schedule to be with you, and for that, I cannot take any more cases-"

"But I know we can afford 5 new dresses!"

He chuckles as he reaches for his drawer.

I shake my head rapidly, "I have taken time to account for..."

My words go dry when he pulls out a velvet box. Though my eyes are distracted, I can see his smirk as when he says, "but you did not account for this."

I gasp when he opens the box.

"I passed your favorite jewelry shop a few days ago. Mr. Harrington insisted I come in, knowing your love for rubies."

I gently take the silver-set ruby, placing the earing to the side of my face as I grin from ear to ear.

Tom's gaze softens, his shoulders relaxing completely as he combs my hair back with his fingers, "exquisite."

I quickly put both earrings on, "you think so?"

He hums, "the earrings are exquisite too."

I snort and swat his arm, utterly pleased.

He only watches my delight, delighting in it greatly. I turn around and lift my hair, wordlessly asking him to clasp the ruby necklace around my neck. He ensures to kiss my nape before and after he does so.

I beam when I turn back to him.

Finally, Tom takes the ruby bracelet and clasps it on my wrist, kissing my skin there before turning back to me.

I pose, smiling as I tuck my hand behind my head, "how do I look?"

He rubs my side, "like the inspiration of all poems, and odes, and sonnets and—"

I cut him off with a kiss.

He pecks my lips twice before smiling against my mouth.

"Oh, Tommy," I tug his collar, "you spoil me."

He presses kisses down my neck, "I try."

I bite my lip as I pull back and inspect his shirt. I rub his shoulders twice before exhaling deeply, reaching to undo his cravat.

He immediately catches my hand and mutters my name.

I raise my brows and tilt my head with a shrug, "would it be so wrong to show my husband— my lawfully wedded husband, whom I love dearly, and adore, and wish to satis—"

"Mrs. Hayward, I implore you," he cuts me off, "leave me alone to my senses for two hours, that I might finish this wretched document."

I immediately sulk.

He speaks my name, firmer this time.

"Why not let me do this," I allow myself to slip between this thighs, "and then you get your peace of two h—"

Tom snatches my hair, gripping it tight by the roots, forcing me to straighten up where I fell between his legs on my knees.

My breathing immediately grows ragged as I grip his thighs.

Tom, himself, grows hard of breathing. His nostrils flare, "I did not buy you pretty things only to be disobeyed, now did I?"

I deflate my lungs, opening my mouth only to shake my head.

He mimics, shaking his head as he looks down at me, "no, I didn't. Can you confirm this for me?"

"You didn't, Mr. Hayward."

Tom nods, "good," then releases my hair.

I gulp and begin to slouch.

"To your feet, my girl," he pushes his chair back, only to pull it forward and face his desk.

I frown and lean into his thigh, throwing my arms across his lap, pressing my cheek to his trousers.

Tom spares me a quick look and swipes my petulant pout, "you're smarter than this."

I whine, "I'm really not."

He hums, bringing pulling his desk closer, "I see. Unfortunately, I have no interest in dim-witted ladies. They bore me greatly, you see."

My face twists, "but, I—"

"Why don't you go read a book and sharpen your mind," he motions to his bookshelf, "pick something and I'll quiz you on it."

"Q-quiz m—"

"And if you answer my questions perfectly, I'll humor all the items in your list."

I gasp and immediately come to my feet, scrambling towards the shelf. My jaw slacks when I realize they're all either law books, law cases, or law documents he uses for reference, "but this is-"

"What's that?" he speaks, though his eyes are locked on the papers on his desk, "is that my wife conceding?"

"No! No-" I frantically look over the shelf, knowing there has to be at least one poetry book tucked away here. I gasp when I find one and immediately snatch it up, "BYRON!"

Tom slowly lifts his gaze, seeing my outstretched arm clutching a cover of a book he knew well.

"You said any book!"

His eyes crinkle, "indeed, my heart."

I quickly stick my tongue out and exit the room, "I am so going to get my dresses."