#clockthemarkdarcyref

Yes, comes his reply, permeating every crevice of your brain. It’s titillating, having his voice sound from so deeply within you. You gasp into his mouth, brow creasing with want. He kisses you back fervently, desperately, guiding you back deeper into the bedroom; this time it was on his terms. 

Charles is the first to break the kiss. Small, shallow pants fan out through his parted lips, barely audible over the rushing in your ears and the rapid drumming in your chest. His cheeks are rosy, closer now to the hue of his flushed lips that purse as he regards you intensely, studying. One hand lifts from where it was cradling the side of your face to ever-so-delicately brush a strand of hair back behind your ear, his gaze flitting across your features until you finally lock eyes. They sparkle even in the dimness of the firelit bedroom. 

He steps away from you suddenly, proceeding back towards the bedroom door that stood wide open. You watch as he swings it shut, taking care to allow neither the squeal of the hinges nor the slam of the door frame to invite any unwanted questions tomorrow at breakfast. Charles turns back to you, considering. He wrings his hands beneath his chin momentarily before slowly approaching you, the typical easiness about him dissipating. He comes to stand in front of you, his eyes looking to you for guidance. 

“Am I okay?” He asks softly, kindly. His fingers gently weave into your hair as his thumb brushes over your cheek. You nod jerkily, struggling to mask the way your body jitters. He raises his eyebrows as if to pose the question once again; he wants certainty, evidence. A man like Charles always does. 

“Yes-,” You suck in a breath, “Yes, of course you are,” you reply earnestly, searching his eyes in the hopes of conveying just how much you want this, want him, to continue. The corners of his lips quirk upwards into a lopsided smile, utterly boyish in nature. Cute. He comes right back into you, hooking a finger under your chin in order to pull you to his lips once more. You do not acquiesce however, tilting your face instead to brush the tip of your nose against his, smiling teasingly. 

“Nice boys don’t kiss like that,” you murmur onto his parted lips as you lose yourself in his eyes. Those same eyes now flit down towards your lips once, twice, before he lowly utters,

“Oh yes they fucking do.”

Your mouths crash together once more, small moans of relief escaping you both as you lick into each other, tongues laving. You swallow his breath before he can gasp for it, both of your lips warm, wet and wanting. You resume your shuffle deeper into the room, reaching for his collar as you go. Before you could start on undoing it, the backs of your knees hit the bed, prompting you to gently fall backwards. Charles then reaches an arm to rest at the side of your head as he climbs on top of you eagerly. You smile into the kiss.