#jalcolm

Jane: There must be a way to fly up there. *Critically regarding the tower, tapping a maroon nail against maroon lips, her other hand rests on Malcolm's forearm. As she surveyed the majesty of the Eiffel, brimming with excitement she mused,* I mean yes obviously brooms but we would have to spell ourselves invisible...at least until we are too high up to make out...*She turns her gaze to Malcolm, squeezing and teasing,* Oh love, you aren't trying to weasel out of the Opera tonight by distracting me with other schemes, are you? *When she was already wearing his gown and diamonds too.*

Malcolm: Of course you'd want to fly to the top. Never mind the stairs, or the lift. Those are for the likes of common people like Thomas Edison. *His lips twitched, amused. Actually, he had never been to the top of the tower either as whenever he and his family visited France, it was to spend the time with Aunt Leanne and the family. Though Genevieve always rattled about how "romantic" it was at the top. If there was ever a person more proud of her heritage, it was Gen.* Why would I weasel you out of your gift, my love? Do you think that lowly of me? *he tuts, winking at her. But good Lord, give him strength tonight.*

Jane: Exactly. *Not to mention it would take ages to climb. That wasn't to say she couldn't do it - of course she could - but why should she have to?* And for people not wearing these shoes. *She chuckled as he winked, shrugging an exaggerated shoulder perhaps slightly in mockery of how common the gesture was for him.* Lowly? Of course not dear, I have never found manipulation or schemes to be a bad thing. *And she winked back, still in awe of the magnificent tower they approached.*

Malcolm: *He wasn't even surprised Jane had agreed on Edison being common compared to her. It was just normal of her.* Hmm, you're right. In that case, I'm flattered you think so highly of me. *he teased as they kept walking closer* It's the tallest structure in the world, you know. *As of right now, at least. He wouldn't be surprised if someone out there was already making plans to top the French.*

Jane: You should be darling, it isn't a compliment I offer easily. *Grin stretching from ear to ear, she could admit to herself that really she was still trying to get over how lucky she felt to be there. Away from everything at home. Well almost. She glanced over her shoulder to see her father's paid escort half a mile off and his beady eyes seeming to count the inches between her and Malcolm. Aggravating little blighter. Never mind the fact she had known the man since she was four.* Is it? *She looked back happily.* Wonderful, you know how much a fan I am of things...large. 

Malcolm: I do know. *he grinned, wiggling his eyebrow in amusement. In all seriousness however the structure really was fascinating. Built for the 1889 world fair, it almost seemed out of place here in Paris. He would be far more interested in it had he his father's penchant for acquiring knowledge but alas, Malcolm was extraordinarily ordinary when it came to intellect- aside from his gift with hexes, curses, and swords though those frequently got him in more trouble than not. It wasn't exactly easy, being him. Hailing from a family of intellectuals and finding no natural talent it. Though, it made it far easier to stand out, and that was a talent he already possessed.* And are you impressed by its girth, my lady?

Jane: *Chuckling at the way he phrased that question as they neared the bottom, she trailed her gaze up the winding spires, the metal adornments.* I daresay I am. *She mused aloud, dropping his arm as she went to walk around one enormous foot of it. Well and perhaps because it gave him a view of the bare back of her neck and shoulders, where the deep purple gown fell off.* It's remarkable, honestly. *She said with open mouth awe as she stepped back to look up, wide-eyed.* However did they manage to build it without magic? There weren't any witches on the design team, right? Amazing. *She flicked her bottom lip with her tongue, still in awe, musing aloud,* What muggles can do when they put their mind to it...

Malcolm: *Here he was under the Eiffel Tower in one of the, arguably, most romantic cities of the world and the sight he chose to focus on was that of Jane's. How splendorous she looked in the dress he had known would suit her tremendously. Violet was the color of royalty, a detail he knew she appreciated. Smiling, he chuckled as she startled resembling a little child in awe and put a hand in his pockets.* I'm sure the answer lies in some boring architect ural and engineering explanation. I've never been much interested in figuring out how things work, what makes them tick...takes a lot out of the magical aspect in my opinion. *He shrugs and smirks.* Muggle magic.

Jane: *Spinning back to look at him, the gown fluttering across her heels, Jane smiled.* Fair point. I suppose I enjoy the moment of wonder far more than an answer. *He had that look again; the oh-so-proud look that he got whenever he said she was being particularly effusive. As if the fact that he saved a smile for her and only her would make her smile lessen?* Muggle magic. *She snorts, wry a moment,* Well there's a phrase we couldn't use at home. *Her eyes trail up the structure again, saying flatly.* Imagine if we tried to build something like this, focused on creation and not destruction...

Malcolm: I would use it. And damn anyone who tried to say anything about it. *But that was him, it was who he was, always starting up trouble, sometimes just because he could but most of the time it was because he refused to stand down for something he believed in. He licked his lips and shrugged.* Then we'd be living in a dream world.

Jane: *Sucking on her bottom lip, for a moment she was glad she'd been looking skywards, wary as to what he'd say to see hesitance flash across her eyes. It was...only that for a moment she heard that as him swearing to damn her father, and it twisted her gut unpleasantly. Yet when she looked back again, she was smiling with her stubbornness.* I think we could manage it.*She shrugs a shoulder, hand slipping to rest on her hip.* Why not? Two of us, we can do anything. *Her gaze flicks amused over his shoulder as she said wryly,* Apart from, apparently, shake off Richard. *She sighs playfully.* To not be able to share a kiss in front of the Eiffel Tower...

Malcolm: Darling, you do realize you're advocating us capable of keeping world peace? *Malcolm wasn't exactly the best example of keeping peace now was he.* Well it is not as if Richard could physically prevent me from missing you, now could he? *Just rat him out to Garrett who at this point would try and prohibit him from seeing Jane. It was a chance he was willing to take.* Besides, I don't mind putting on a show.

Jane: Well. I was just thinking we build our own Eiffel, but now there's an interesting idea... *Her hand came up to tap her lips despite the utter (obvious) absurdity. Malcolm was not the most even-tempered, nor was she. Not that she minded; she enjoyed consuming his temper half the time. She laughed suddenly,* Oh say that quieter love, or else I fear he'll aim something at the back of your head and half to take you to the hospital. Which would make me just oh so cross as I would miss tonights show. *Nonchalantly,* Both of them. *Tilting her head at his remark, her smile turned coy,* For my butler, dear?

Malcolm: Only if we call it the Stuart tower. *A tower was much more feasible than peace throughout the earth. He scoffed and then grinned* Richard doesn't scare me. *he looked back to the man who was a good ways away from them but who's narrowed eyes never left him. He turned back to Jane and admitted teasingly* Maybe a little. *grinning* I meant put on a show for all of Pari *he said it the French way* but he fits under that category at the moment.

Jane: Stuart Tower? *Scoffing for she suspected a different reason than Malcolm, she tucked her hands behind her skirt, cocking an eyebrow, wrinkling her nose and saying playfully - though with all seriousness* I prefer Jane Tower, dear. *Not Brackner either, obviously. As he looked back at Richard she darted a few steps further back teasingly,* A little? Well my love, currently this is just a lot of talk with  *She wiggles both eyebrows.* shamefully little action. Must you be such a tease?

Malcolm: Then I guess we're building two of them aren't we? Have ourselves a little competition while we're at it. *After all, he never gave Jane -exactly- what she wanted, not without a little work for it first. He grins and then nods.* Yes, yes I am. That's all I'll do tonight, tease and behave and tease. Drop you back off at home at a reasonable time, only kiss your hand. *Winks and then smirks.* Then after midnight, when its no longer tonight but tomorrow, sneak through your window, apparate you back to this exact spot and kiss you then.

Jane: How diplomatic you've become, I'm astounded. *She had naturally still pouted a moment; of course he wouldn't let her win. And of course because she knew it was partially because he wanted to see her pout. Her lips pressed tighter together as he continued to describe, eyes fluttering and then she finally laughs out, her hands coming up (oh she was going to hit her father for insisting on the escort. Just because he could not have controlled himself...well all right maybe he had a point, damn him).* You, are going to be patient sweetheart? *tilts her head, her joined hands pointing at him and then to the sky, giggling* Diplomacy and behaving...oh you saw your Mother today didn't you?

Malcolm: Stranger things have happened, and miracles occur every day, sweetheart. *he wiggles his eyebrows before answering simply.* Jane, you obviously don't know my mother at all if you think she's the advocate for diplomacy and proper behavior in our family. *he grins, knowing really that Jane just delighted in bringing his mother up at times like these. Not that he didn't love his mum, obviously.*

Jane: Well not for herself...*chuckles, amused for well, wasn't every parent hypocritical a little?* ...but she certainly does for you. *She nods in agreement with both of them as she drops her hands back to her sides and looks up.* So at midnight...might we fly up there? *she points, wiggling both eyebrows*

Malcolm: *Well, that was true. He did receive quite the verbal "lashing" from her a few weeks ago. Of course, she ended by giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek and told him she loved so it wasn't exactly a reprimand but. He follows her pointing and then grins widely, turning back to Jane and nodding.* Oh yes, definitely. *He takes her hand again and then kisses it, smirking after.* Maybe then we'll see about flying to the moon.

Jane: *In her left hand she clutched tight a furled, parchment scroll. In the right was a tiny (stolen) basket of strawberries and a tightly capped jar of melted, heated chocolate. Honestly, Jane did not know which she was more excited about. She had the strawberries from an afternoon at the lake with her family, and despite clear tension, there seemed such a determination that they have fun they all had been caught up in it eventually. Mum had fretted about her dress, kept fixing Charles' collar, Leah and Dad had gone swimming together, Kitty had braided her hair and read on the shore until Jane and Charles had gotten her soaked. It was fun. The fact the six of them could still have fun (and pick strawberries) once they got away and were able to merely be themselves had already placed her in an excellent move. Then the scroll arrived upon her return. The elegance of the scroll was highlighted by the calligraphy, even if it did spell out 'it came -m' (assuming he did not just mean the delivery, which she knew perfectly well he did not, he was always so clever wasn't he?) Her gown navy silk and low-cut, the skirt was tiered so as to break apart easily...but it was the underneath she knew he'd enjoy most. It felt odd to slip into garters holding up a black lace chemise with knit tights, but wonderful too. Scarlet lips and rouge-tinted cheeks accented her bright smile as she knocked on the door, clear of nervousness and called out,* Malcolm? Love? Malcolm: *Why did he always have to complicate things for himself? Well, it was too late now. He walked around the room, assuring everything was in place, trying to keep the nerves at bay (not that he was nervous, per se, there was a difference). At the knock on the door, he smiled, heading over to it and opening the door. He was almost distracted from his plan as he saw her, the dress low cut and her lips painted a tantalizing red. Grinning, he pressed a finger to his lips and then lifted a silk cloth over her eyes, tying it behind her head.* Trust me. *he took her arm and led her inside. Once he closed the door, a light and dreamy piano song started playing from the phonograph in a corner of the room. There was a scent in the air of vanilla, lilac, and freesias, from the dozens of candles around the room. The candles were both small and stout, large and tall, red and white, some carved in intricate swirl patterns. Rose petals were strewn about the entire room, on the floor as they walked more towards the center, around the base of the candles, and on the bed, where the colors contrasted with the white silk sheets. The roses were imported from Colombia, similar ones were near impossible to find in Europe. Untouched bouquets in clear glass vases were also placed around the room. Malcolm let go of her arm to take off the blindfold from Jane's eyes.* Jane: *Driven to silence nearly the moment he opened the door a sliver, it was simply by the look he wore when he saw her own attire. Uncommonly aware of her breath and how loud it sounded, a coy smirk played itself upon her lips as she realized for a moment she could hear no breath from him. That was a most enjoyable effect. Of course it was expected, but she was still pleased. About to speak, this time it was his gesture that quieted her save a chuckle and she nodded, gaze trailing to the silk tie. Oh, but she had to comment on that! It complimented the gown, a beige to her navy, a contradiction that made her want to giggle again in the irony and oh-- damn him, why precisely was her quiet something to be desired when she knew perfectly well how much he enjoyed her sounds? Gasp hitching in her throat tiny as he whispered to trust him, she couldn't help but think 'Like that one.' Still she stayed quiet as long as she possibly good, sliding her hand along the muscle in his arm, grinning something ridiculous as she followed. Debussy. Of course. She knew he listened to her - though sometimes she had to admit even she couldn't figure out how he managed to follow along with her (and playfully pretend not to hear at once) -- but the fact that he was playing one of her favorite sonatas still turned her smirk soft. And she could smell vanilla - had he taken her perfume? As his fingers slipped through the soft skin at the nape her neck, sliding through strands of her hair slow before removing the silk, she couldn't help herself from murmuring,* Only have the one tie? *But that was before she opened her eyes. And before her mouth dropped open surveying the room. She didn't bother to close it, the painted-scarlet 'oh' of her open mouth was familiar to him, but she chuckled at herself all the same. So often she felt like an adult lately, as old as her mother was, and in one breathless instant Malcolm had her feeling eighteen once more, young and in love and just oh so warm and happy. Her gaze had naturally lingered on the bed, the flickering candles.* Malcolm. *And then she saw the roses, multi-colored on the same petals, a tiny squeak escaping her lips and she darted to them, eyes round.* How did--what are these? *She ran the pad of her thumb down one petal, wary of tearing it.* They're gorgeous--oh! Of course, the delivery. *She giggled, looking back over her shoulder at him still smirking.* Malcolm: *He watched her intently, awaiting her reactions. Jane was always a very expressive person, even as a child. She could make her discontent known with the slightest pursing of her lips, her joy shined more through her eyes than anything else. True, her eyes were covered, but still she reacted. That was the point, for her to experience the room in different senses. To the music at first, with a wide grin that he ultimately mirrored. The scent, one that he had tried to mimic from the countless of memories he had of inhaling the mixture she dabbed behind her ears, caused the grin to turn fond, and as he removed the cloth (and chuckled at her murmur) he watched her eyes come alive with wonder. He smiled with open adoration as he watched her, answering softly* Colombian roses, all the way across the ocean. *he stepped forward to her again, his hands sliding down her shoulders and arms, placing a soft kiss on her neck.* What do you think? Is it special? Jane: *Tilting her head as her skin seemed to come alive at his gentle touch, a lone loose curl dances on her shoulder. The rest tumble to grant him access to her neck, another giggle in her throat. Oh, Malcolm, he was always so worried about her, always so thoughtful. She never knew how to express her gratitude for him, and knew even less how to show she felt the same. At the gentle squeeze of his wrists around her forearm, pressing them to her side with his inhale, she matched his breath, nodding as they exhaled, delight in her gaze.* Flawless, love. And you know how critical I can be. *The tease was light. She lowered her hand from the petal, still looking around the room, each vase, scent, and note making her shiver and beam anew.* How in the world did you manage to set all of this up without your family noticing? I barely slipped off and not without Leah figuring it out. Ah, right. *That reminded her. She brightened, reaching low to the fold of her skirt and spinning (though she was loathe to drop his hands, and did so slowly) as she brought up the little green basket of a half-dozen strawberries. She grinned, handle on her wrist.* And there's chocolate too. Malcolm: *his lips flicked into a smile against her skin before he nodded, chuckling again at her statement.* Yes, yes I know. *But given that he was usually the epitome of perfection, it worked rather well for them. He chuckled, admitting with a tilt of his head* Lysa noticed, but dad's been busy. I suppose this is the once and only time I'm glad mum isn't here, nothing gets past her...*It was only now as Jane brought the basket up that he noticed it, laughing once.* I am not surprised *he picked up a strawberry, tearing off the leaves and placed it in his mouth before offering it to her with a wink* Jane: *Only tearing her eyes from his to watch his long fingers take the strawberry, it brought her gaze right back to his lips. Laugh suddenly seeming very loud, she narrowed her eyes at him playful as ever and leaned forward. Taking care to leave one hand on the curve of his hip, the other she left at her side, determined to use only her mouth. As he knew, she was fairly good at that.* You know this might make an awful mess, don't you? *Taking the tip of the berry between her teeth, she kept her eyes open, locked on his and slid down it slowly before swirling her tongue to swipe into her mouth, the red juice mixing with the paint on her lips and his. Yet she only kissed him for a heartbeat, pulling back and lifting her hand, sucking on her fingers teasingly before saying with a smack,* Delicious. I wish we could pick oranges here too, bu--*Playfully, she interrupted herself to meet his gaze.* Oh, no, wait, not another delivery love, I could not wait another day. *She tilts her head, amused.* I'm glad my father was so distracted really, I owe Leah. How is Adelina? *Both eyebrows wiggled at her light words, reaching for another strawberry.* Malcolm: *Given that he had a strawberry in his mouth, he couldn't exactly respond to her question verbally, so he simply wiggled his eyebrows in reply. Jane honestly was very talented with her mouth. Smirking after the strawberry is in her mouth,* Good, because neither could I. *Especially not when she looked like that. And if memory served him well, Jane had said she had picked the garment to wear under the dress as well. Sighing in exasperation as Jane continued talking of family, he pursed his lips before he answered.* Well, as you very well know *his hand slides down to her wrist, bringing the hand holding the strawberry up to his lips. His tongue flicks out to brush her skin before drawing the strawberry and her fingers into his mouth. Pulling back, leaving her fingers absent, he smirked as he chewed the fruit. He wasn't as addicted to them as Jane was, as all the Brackners seemed to be, but it was good.* Delicious indeed, love. *It seemed almost a shame to ruin her scarlet lips, but he couldn't hold back a moment longer. Grasping her waist, he leaned in to kiss her slowly, the taste of strawberries still on both of their mouths.* Jane: You know love, you make light of my pout but - *her hand tightens on his waist, amused,* - you have a very lovely one. *Her gaze drifted from his lips to the hand drifting down her arm to her wrist, giggling still at his momentary irritation.* Sorry honey, was I talking of something you would rather not? *He had her hand to his lips now, around her fingers, sucking. Gaze widening in delight, her own lips pursed playfully, only to gasp -- and then pout honestly as he left her fingers. Oh for heavens sake.* O--*He cut her off, melding his mouth over hers. She dropped the basket. Her eyes shut. Kissing him hungrily, her tongue searching the roof of his mouth, pressing the inside of his cheeks, searching out every last taste of strawberry. Breathing out heavily in a sudden gasp of necessity, she pulled back chuckling, whacking his shoulder.* Now you're impatient, hm? Make me wait weeks, but I can't even finish a basket of strawberries? *Without pulling away, hand tightly grasping his neck, she pulled her two fingers back into her mouth to suck on his taste idly, glancing down. Realizing the basket was on the ground, tipped so that a berry bouncing free had littered the carpet with seeds, she squeaked. Yet still she grinned.* And you wasted one! Malcolm: *Lovely pout or not, he put his lips to better use than that, cutting off Jane from talking because one way or another, he was always stopping her from talking. Fingers digging into the fabric of her waist, he kissed her with growing passion, taking his time to savor every moment and every taste. When they stopped it was for breath, and apparently to chastize him. He licked his lips and rubbed the corners of his mouth, knowing perfectly well they were smudged red. Tilting his head as he watched her suck on her fingers, he smirked briefly and shrugged.* You'll live, sweetheart. *He pressed closer to her, cupping her neck and kissing her again, grinning against her lips, tongue swiping over them* I much rather taste you. Jane: *Hmphing, despite the fact the low voice in her ear making her shiver, by the time she had lifted her chin he was back on her. Every sweep of his lips she met, pushing herself up against him. Insistent that she match him in every way, she grinned against his warm, wet mouth - gasping as his tongue traced her lips and he spoke. He had a firm grasp on her neck and hip, but no matter. Licking his bottom lip, she ran a hand up from his waist to the ties in his shirt, picking at one.* Ah, love, I enjoy that too. *She kissed him again, picking another loose only to stop, and still in his grasp. She arched an eyebrow at him challenging, still smirking.* Then let go. Malcolm: *Their lips moved against each other as they took turns speaking in between hot kisses. His thumb made small circles across the nape of her neck, and his other hand fisted the dress, smirking. He stilled as she did, his sigh at her words was one of willing defeat. He made a show out of unhanding her, letting his fingers fall away as they caressed skin both bare and through material.* Jane: *One finger released her at a time, alternating between her waist and neck. Toying with the ties around his neck, she held his gaze fiercely determined not to shiver or shake - or worse, just relent herself and pull him against her. There was a heat in his gaze, flames in his breath against her lips that she knew were mirrored by her own, melting the ice around her smirk. They said nothing, still as statues, so close the gentlest breeze would press them together, so close that she could taste him, lick the paint he stole from her clean off his cheek, so close. If it did not mean that he would win, she would gasp then, the moment heady with such narcotic intensity she did not want to retreat. Then Malcolm bunched the free curls at her neck, brushing through them and finally letting her go with gentle caresses, his lips in a smirk. Her own smile incredulous, though really she had to know he would do what she asked his way, she nodded before stepping back, releasing him too. Her mouth moved to speak, but she found in that instant she had no words. Instead she rubbed the corner with her thumb to brush paint and fruit juice off, not daring to touch the flesh of her lips and clean his taste from them. She lifted both arms to brush her hair back, bunch it herself and release it across her back, exposing the pink flash of her throat. Looking around she softened to see the roses once more, taking another step back towards the vase. She caressed the Columbian rose petals, all white, magenta and pink and red swirled together, while her hand moved to her neck. First she removed the diamonds carefully, placing them around one of the glass, setting the chocolate beside it. The glass made a ringing sound as it landed, echoing in her ear oddly to complement Debussy's melody, and she chuckled once. Then she unhooked one part of the skirt with a snap. It dropped it to the floor in a heap. Silver garter straps revealed, the skirt was short and poofed around her like a dancers, high on her thighs. Stepping out of it and looking at his eyes again she grinned. And once she'd seen his gaze, she giggled, delighted and spun once on her heel. His brown eyes were darkening with every brush of her hand with unbridled lust and desire, with such romantic promise that now she did shiver. Both eyebrows popped up at him, she lifted her hand back to the top of her dress. It moved slow, languid, and when the fabric finally released she only caught it herself, holding up the dress so it only revealed one shoulder. This wasn't entirely new, Malcolm had certainly seen and known and loved every inch of her, but Lord she did love putting on a show. And it still felt different, she thought, there was a promise in the air hanging between them, tension she knew only how to wind tighter and tighter, that however talented they both were with fingers and tongue - and oh Lord he must have been divinely inspired, she should pray about that, again - they had never allowed themselves to explore that final pinnacle. That was what awaited them tonight. She spoke suddenly,* You didn't need to get the roses to make this special, *She chuckled smile soft, plucking one from the vase and lowering it between her lips to inhale the soft perfume -- damn him, how many little details could he get perfectly right? Brushing the petals over her skin as she revealed it until an arm was free, she remarked lighter,* But I'm glad you did. *She laid the rose over her chest in a pose she might have stolen from a painting as she continued to lower the dress, finally letting the entire thing fall off her, leaving her in the black chemise and garters - and a rose. His rose. She tilted her head smirking, twirling the stem between her fingers, wondering aloud as she took a step closer to him,* And then, Malcolm, *Another step,* you like seeing me, *Another,* wearing something, *She was back within reach of his arms, lifting the rose to tap against his lips, grinning,* of yours, don't you? *She  lifted a hand to his forehead, caressing down the side of his cheek,* Your diamonds...your gown...*Her thumb reached his lips, the pad resting as it pulled his lower one down,* The mark of your fingers, where anyone could see, know that I'm yours. *She leaned to kiss his cheek, bringing her lips closer to his ear,* As if I was ever anyone else's. Darling, I've loved you all my life. *She kissed the tip of his ear, thumb still on his lips, and she tapped it as she continued,* But then, you like marking me where no one else can see too, relish just knowing it's there in a place so forbidden, even when I'm sitting at dinner with my family. *She giggled at a momentary memory, the sound suddenly girlish, young considering her words and she silenced herself by pressing a kiss to his jaw.* Go on then, love. *She pulled back, wrapping her arms around his neck and muttered heated against his lips, a breath away, a heartbeat away, chest pressed up so high in the chemise that she thought momentarily she might bounce free if her heart beat any louder, her mutter hot,* Taste me. Malcolm: *If Jane wanted to put on a show for his benefit, he certainly wasn't going to stop her. It was amusing to him, however, to see that they had swapped roles. In the upcoming days she had been impatient while he bid his time, now it was his turn to wait and watch. Her back to him for the moment, he leaned against the bedpost as she took off her diamonds and inspected the roses. They were unique, special, uncommon in this continent yet their beauty paled in comparison to hers. He was cut off from any other coherent thought as her skirt dropped to the floor in one swift movement. Eyebrows rising, he licked his lips as his eyes traveled up the knit stockings, up the garters, to that poofy skirt. Could it even be called a skirt? It more closely resembled a belt. She might have been seeking his gaze but he was too preoccupied looking her up and down repeatedly. His trousers were beginning to become uncomfortable, though he did not shift, not yet. In heavy, almost cruel, contrast, the top of her dress moved extremely slowly off her shoulders. Her voice drew his gaze to her eyes, surprised with himself that he was able to understand her words given that oxygen was necessary for normal brain function and he hadn't taken a breath in what seemed like eternity now. He didn't speak back, she was entrancing him and oh, she knew it too if that smirk on her face was any indication. The outfit she had picked out for him was visible to him. He bit his bottom lip after licking them again. Jane's words now traveled through fog and space in order to get to his ears. His eyes followed her hand as she touched him ever so gently, but quickly returned to her face, to see those luscious red lips move. She spoke of him marking her as his own, or at least something of that regard, the details were hazy. As her lips drifted from his cheek to his ear, he bit his lip again, exhaling out of his nose as he looked at the ceiling for a brief moment. God help him, because the devil was tempting. She pulled back just far away enough to wrap herself around him, his arms going around her waist instinctually. The fabric was far softer and far less than the dress she had previously been wearing, her skin all but exposed to him. Malcolm didn't know if she had finished speaking, but his lips moved nevertheless. Hot and breathless, his kiss was needy and hungry, his mouth open as he tasted her, her lipstick, the strawberries she had eaten earlier. His fingertips sunk into her skin through the chemise, his hands sliding from her waist up her sides, thumbs brushing underneath the curve of her chest.* Jane: *One hand tangling in his hair, the other ripped buttons free the moment before his arms enclosing her squeezed her so close there was no space, no air, nothing between them, just chemise on silk, skin on skin as his shirt opened. His thumbs digging below her chest she gasped out, eyes shut, shoulders slumping forward succumbing to the pleasure of his lips on her. She half moaned, half laughed as the world seemed to tilt and then realized she'd done that. When had she stepped backwards? Her hips remained pressed to his, she was sure of that. Yet there she was, skirt rubbing against his trouser leg as she had been leaned backwards - pushy, she thought in delight, tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth and half looking up at him as she bumped into one of the tables. The vase with the roses shook dangerously, she tore free her lips to look, breathing heavy and . Once she was sure it wouldn't fall, she looked back, hands sliding back around his neck. Cheeks flushed, lipstick smudged between them, her chest was rising to fall on his thumbs. She arched a brow at him, sliding her palm against the nape of his neck, dragging to the folds of his shirt.* Delicious, my love? *The brow cocks higher, as she tugs on his sleeve, demanding to see him too. Her eyes drop, musing as she looked with unadulterated pleasure on the play of muscles before her underneath his fluttering shirt,* Or do I taste better elsewhere?  Malcolm: *A breathless chuckle left his lips as they almost knocked down the roses, not completely aware of how they got near the table in the first place. He was too involved in her, listening to her moans and sighs of pleasure, tasting her mouth, touching her skin, and inhaling her scent that smelled so very much like the rest of the room now. Licking his lips, he smirked at her question and nodded, at that moment still at a loss for words. Pulling away from her far enough to take off his shirt, he closed in on her again, muttering against her lips.* Can't recall. *He nipped her bottom lip and started to kiss down her jaw, teeth dragging against sensitive skin* I'll just have to see again. *His mouth traveled down to her chest, leaving kisses and bites on the skin exposed to him while a hand moved up to cup her through the chemise* Jane: *Her answering mutter turned into a moan, thoughts cut off to be replaced by "so good" and "want need fuck now", none of which Jane could find the breath to express. Hand sliding up his bareback as he sank lower, she squirmed with need as his fingers attack the laces of her corset. Chest popping free she couldn't swallow her laugh. Feeling the answering smirk hot against her skin, a playful nip stole her air and left her skin red. Her only response was to twist her hand in his hair, grip his neck tighter to keep him with her. Malcolm leaned back from her, breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down and glistening with perspiration already.  Warm brown eyes drank in the sight of her, making her shiver, feeling oddly as though it was the first time he was looking. It wasn't. His voice was husky as he remarked how beautiful she was in awe, and she realized he was fixated on her eyes, despite his fingers playing with her, rolling her between his fingers, chest glistening as his did from his warm mouth. It wasn't the first time he had done that either. her gaze filled with his hard muscles, his smooth back, his rough hands - rougher than she had expected could feel good, and on his velvet skin, her hands itching to stroke. She had barely breathed out,* You too, * before he leaned to kiss her once more, slow and tender. Capturing her lips, she shuddered and lost herself in the kiss. She was almost caught off guard as his hand slid up her skirt, hot fingers moving at an agonizing slow pace as they toyed with her. His lips departed to blaze wet kisses down her neck until he met her collarbone, and she pouted. She wanted him back. She wanted to still taste him, and as his hand departed she nearly snapped, protesting through a groan before -- oh. He'd made short work of her skirt, unclipping the garters with two quick snaps, his hands telling her where to lift and wiggle even as she ripped his clothes off too. He gathered her in his arms and deposited her void of clothing on the bed, joining her similarly bare before she had the chance to miss him too long. It was the first time they were like this. They had always had some form of clothing, something still between them. She could feel him pushing against her thigh, hot, but when she reached to touch he pushed her hand away, nipping her bottom lip in punishment. She pouted, unrepentant even with his mouth sliding to her chest. His hand was on her, she didn't see why she couldn't enjoy exploring him as well. Arching high as she could beneath him, he groaned into her skin and let her roll them. Her chest pressed against his, his hands slid up her back, cupped her backside and held her against him, cupping and kneading while she gasped into his mouth. Petals flew off the covers to litter the floor, sheets tangled around their ankles in their haste. She kissed him hard and he met her each time, a hand twisting through her hair as she kissed down his chest, closer and closer until he -- -- Malcolm grunted and they rolled again, tangling them further. And this time he lifted a hand to her wrists, pinning her to the bedspread and she realized with a tiny giggle exactly why it was he couldn't stand her touching for that long. He wouldn't last. Moaning and gasping in penance, for she knew how much he enjoyed the sound of her in the throes of pleasure, she helped him slide her thighs further apart. There was a breathless sort of sigh between them as she felt him, nudging against her nether-lips, placed. For a moment they were still. He was on his elbow, the other hand on her face, eyes asking one last time. She melted at the look. Even though it may kill him to stop, even though he would call her temptress, devil and tease forever, if she wanted him to stop, he would now, even now. Barely able to finish exhaling his name in acquiescence, she breathed as he slid his hand down, guiding himself into her. Gasping out, her eyes darted to his, seeing him concerned and smug at once. Only Malcolm could manage that look, she thought, though it was a dim thought masked with pleasure and pain at once, her eyes shutting as she tried to adjust. It was certainly the first time they did this too, she thought, as his careful motions became thrusts he couldn't control, and she was pleased with that, pleased to think she could inspire such lust and need, pleased with his knuckles brushing between her legs in tandem, pleased with oh - a whole bloody lot actually and - yes - and God did she love him, all of him, and he was breathing the same thing into her neck, her chest, his mouth everywhere at once it seemed - there, that, now - as if he couldn't get enough ever, and as pain melted into pleasure, rapture, she realized she couldn't either, and had no intention of letting him go. Not ever. And yet now, now... Too soon then, despite the fact she couldn't take another moment, despite the fact that she knew it had been nearly an hour since she had gotten there, the tension in her body had snapped to take her over a second time that evening and all she could gasp out over and over was his name as he slid free of her to come himself in the sheets. He collapsed on top of her, and she arched up to him, legs tangling back around his back, her long hair enclosing them in their own private world as he breathed against her hard and warm. He coaxed her down, and only then did she realize he was muttering her name too, his smirk returned to see her face, flushed and enraptured with him. Oh, Malcolm. She giggled a bit, still breathing harsh and sliding her hand up and down his back before gripping his neck.* Dear Lord. *She muttered it against his lips, not caring it was blasphemy, anymore than she cared that they were not married.* I love you. *Her breath quieting, her chest pushing up against his as she saw his look, and she found herself laughing again.* Well Malcolm, don't you look pleased... *She wiggled an eyebrow, refusing to let him go.* Malcolm: *His breaths were heavy as he wound down, feeling quite honestly the happiest and most satisfied he's felt in a long time. He laid half on the bed and half on Jane, who giggled near his face. Malcolm grinned as well, passing a hand idly through her hair, so very different from the way he had gripped it before. He looked on at her, licking his lips while he did, the world seemed to slow around them. He only vaguely registered that the music had stopped, that the wax on the candles were lower. They weren't important, not right then, at least as long as they weren't burning his room down. Tracing the crinkles at the edge of her eyes as she laughed, he hmmed at her words..* You do too. *he flicked her nose with his own, smiling still.* Was it everything you ever expected? Jane: *As he nudged her nose, she giggled again, the gesture reminding her of the way a kitten she'd had would nose at it's mate. As he traced the edges of her eyes she softened, but still she felt a need to laugh, to shout with joy, to giggle--she couldn't help herself, she was incredibly happy.* More. *She murmured it teasing, pecking his lips in another short, sweet kiss.* And yet still not enough. Though, *she traced his upper back idly, amused,* I am more impressed you restrained from just grabbing me ages ago. You couldn't stop yourself from grabbing me to kiss me last year. *She wiggled her eyebrows.*

Jane: ...now you're just teasing me. *but she's smirking wide, taking a sip of water as she surveys, needle poised in her hand and Neville's shirt on her lap* You know, I have it on good authority that it is possible to chop firewood with a shirt on, love.

Malcolm: *the smirk was his sole response at first before he brought the axe down on the piece of wood, splitting it clean in half. Wiping his brow, he smirked and shook his head* Clothing hinders me. I would be shirtless all the time if I had my way *he wiggles his eyebrows and drops the two pieces of now firewood in the pile before grabbing another log*

Jane: *She groaned, sticking the needle in the shirt with perhaps a bit extra force than necessary, eyes still trailing down his back as he moved.* Ah. And just when are you planning on having your way with me? *Her lips quirk up, ignoring the fact they weren't entirely in private in Neville's backyard.*

Malcolm: *Laughing out loud once, his lips twist into an amused and pleased smirk again, looking over his shoulder at her* Hmm, soon. I just enjoy trying your patience *he winks before turning back and swinging down. He wondered how cold it could get in the night in the middle of the night here, given how hot it was right now. Surely only to get hotter if he remained thinking of the subject she just brought up.*

Jane: I've never been known for patience. *She scowls a bit as she sews swiftly, leaning back om the barrell she sat on.* Nor, I must admit, did I think you so capable of self-restraint. Ever surprising you are, my love.

Malcolm: *No she definitely wasn't, he thought to himself as he dropped the other pieces of firewood into the pile. Laughing under his breath he turned around fully* That's because I'm waiting on a delivery.

Jane: *Her hand paused, tilting the fabric over her knee before looking back up.* A delivery? *The delight was evident in her expression, curiosity alight in her eyes and smirk* How you continue to tantalize me, love, with such details. My ardor is only outmatched by my impatience.

Malcolm: *He knew Jane love being spoiled, and had no problem with him using his enormous amount of inheritance to her benefit.* It's one of my favorite past times, of course. *he teased with a grin*

Jane: Hm. As long as you are careful to ensure anticipation will be exceeded, not only met, I admit I have no qualm with this hobby of yours.*She smirked, looking back down and continuing to sew. Well, re-sew. She had pulled too hard.*

Malcolm: You're a hard woman to please, Jane. *he teased, even knowing it was true, for lesser men of course. For him, not a problem. He put another log on the trunk and swung down to cleave it in half* How's the shirt coming along?

Jane: As it should be. And you love that about me. *She grinned without looking up, still staring at the half-mended shirt in determination. It was true, she thought bemused.* For you love pleasing me. *And now she looked up with a perfectly straight face, answer polite and even.* It's coming. A masterpiece it won't be, but...I suppose if you ever needed a shirt mended I could, apparently. Not that you'll need it, of course. *She gestured at his bare torso.*

Malcolm: *he grins and looks over his shoulder to wink at her over wiggling eyebrows* Another of my favorite past times. *Jane mending a shirt, pah! It was almost laughable. But he was glad for her help anyways so he wouldn't make fun...too much.* Just make sure to take out the needle. Wouldn't want the poor man to stick himself with it.

Jane: *She chuckles, saying easily,* Well when we finish here, feel free to indulge in this favorite pastime of yours. *Then her nose wrinkled. Oh for goodness sakes.* I'll remember. I may swear to Charles it was an accident but I stuck him on purpose. And it was once anyways!

Malcolm: Gladly. *he swung down again, wiping at his forehead with his arm and then turning around for a well deserved break, sitting on the stump* You would think you torture him endlessly given how many times he complains about it. *he teased* You have such a gentle heart, I have no idea where he gets these ideas about you from.

Jane: My brother is wicked. *She shrugs unconcerned. The moment she sees he has sat though she grins, getting up while mid stitch, promptly sitting back on his lap and continuing to stitch.* To be honest, I'm a bit concerned about him, getting all these ideas...*Yet she shrugs again, looking back up at him.* Did you know he was in town too though? *proudly* Had a drink with Lucy and Rick.

Malcolm: *Laughing as Jane sat down on his lap, he was about to comment that her dress would get dirty with the sweat but it was a modest dress to begin with. Well, modest for Jane. *Eyebrows raising in surprise, he was nonetheless pleased to hear so* I'm glad...and surprised. How is Rick doing, by the way? *He didn't think he would ever not be surprised over that couple, honestly*

Jane: *As he leaned back to accommodate her, she slid her skirt over their joined lap and lifted the shirt, comfortable and smirking. At the question, she softened genuinely, looking up.* You know...I honestly think he's doing well. I mean...it's not easy...and I have purposefully avoided coming too often...he doesn't need me reminding him of court. *she swallows* But he hasn't seemed so..if not entirely at home, relaxed at least, in as long as I can remember. *She pauses, adding fairly,* Well, Leah relayed Thomas' amusement with the first times he had to do dishes and...*she pauses* whatever...other chores there are...*shrugs a shoulder* But he and Luce...god, Malcolm, the way they look at each other and talk about each other...*Lips flicking up as he wrapped his arms around her, she only nodded, pleased and proud.* I have gotten to see them...a little. Only talked to her alone really before it happened, but God...even then it was plain as day how they felt. I don't know how I could have missed it. *a little quieter, but still genuine* She's affectionate, kind, a bit impulsive and I think she has a hard time swallowing back smart remarks. Honestly, all class and family aside they're kind of perfect. *she pauses, adding lighter* If we weren't already perfect of course, unfortunately for them we're using that up.

Malcolm: Everybody in the world missed it. *he chuckled, shaking his head. Smirk lifting, he nodded, agreeing on Lucy's traits.* Yes, sounds like. Mum used to visit her and a few others in town a lot, I tagged along for a few, mostly when I was younger. *They pinched his cheeks a lot. Especially Merida.* Hmm, sometimes it's such a burden, being so perfect.

Jane: *At the reminder, the needle paused and she looked up with a wide grin.* Yes...she recognized me actually. *Both brows wiggled.* Said I was "Malcolm's Jane?" Have you been boasting about me, honey? *She winks in latter agreement.*

Malcolm: *Laughing, completely unabashed he nodded his head* Of course. Well, I boast now. Younger I used to complain about you, say you were infuriating and things of that sort. *he squeezed her middle and grinned* But I've always talked about you. *he paused before he added with a tease* A couple of others from time to time, but mostly you love.

Jane: *Unabashed and unashamed as ever, Jane's smile didn't falter until he mentioned talking about others. He leaned in to. Nose wrinkling playfully, she nudged his shoulder saying decisively--graciously!--* I'll ignore that last. *Because she had beamed in pride being recognized as his. Teasing, * I was only infuriating because you so hate being wrong and I pointed out when you were. Often. You made me insane over that too. I told her though, in truth you're Jane's Malcolm. *Her eyebrows wiggled as she sewed another stitch.*

Malcolm: Falsely *he corrected,  an amused smile on his face nonetheless* I'm rarely wrong. *laughing suddenly, he wiggled his eyebrows and then repeated* Jane's Malcolm? *he grinned again before he attempted to appear insulted* What, am I just some object to you? To be owned and flaunted?

Jane: *She just continues to smirk, expression unchanged.* If you say so, honey. *The momentary role reversal made her giggle, and as he continued indignant she shook her head insistent, lifting a hand to cup his cheek comfortingly* No, no, sweetheart of course not. No. Not just "some" object. *With a wicked glint in her eye, her tone is still sweet.* The most precious, gorgeous, and of paramount importance I possess.

Malcolm: *licking his lips and nodding in amusement, he laughed once and cleared his throat before replying very seriously* But an object to you nonetheless, how -dare- you? *he wiggles his eyebrows* Hmm, I suppose I'll simply have to punish you. *Unfortunately reminded of their not so private setting, he tilts his head before admitting in reluctance* Later.

Jane: So you keep saying, my love. *Her thumb lifted, tracing barely over his wiggling brow, lips pursed in affectionate curiosity. She mused aloud,* Yet apparently we wait for a delivery before you can claim me as yours instead. *She sighed, dropping her hand and resuming her sewing--though not before wiggling herself against him, in his lap. Hard. She continued nonchalant.* Lovely day at least. Do you think we could visit your Mum?  I miss her.

Malcolm: A very important delive- *he inhaled through his nose as Jane moved, no not moved -writhed-, against him. Apparently he would just be dealing with wood all day.* -ry. *Oh, damn her.* We have the majority of the day to ourselves and you want to visit my mother, darling? *He missed her too.*

Jane: *Hearing his sharp intake, she smirked without looking back around at him.* All right, honey? *She waited deliberately, needle pointed in the air mid stitch.* You paused a moment there.  *It had the added bonus of sinking her further in his lap. Smirking only wider, she resumed sewing.* Yes, at least for a part of it...I haven't seen her in weeks. She did have a killer exit though, I thought Adrian was going to soil himself.

Malcolm: Did I? *he narrowed his eyes at the back of her head, but alas he couldn't stay annoyed with her for long, not in this position.* I'm not entirely sure he didn't. *He smirked, obvious smugness in his tone before he laughed once* How would you define 'a part' then?

Jane: You did. *She leans back in his arm to innocently cast her eyes up at him.* When you wefe thinking about this important delivery. Must admit...we have a bed...otherwise...I wasn't aware we were missing necessary parts, love. *She patted his chest, kissed his cheek, then found herself giggling.* Oh, perfect. He deserved worse anyway. *She leaned back to finish a row on the shirt, continuing on easily.*  Oh, an hour or two for tea...crumpets...biscuits. I wouldn't want to take too much of her time

Malcolm: It certainly not necessary, of course, but when have I ever kept to the bare minimum? *Well, aside from when it came to clothing that was. Nose wrinkling in distaste, he exhaled and shook his head* Merlin, that does sound dull.

Jane: Just tell me now, *she giggles once* if it's an outfit you desire I wear, for I had one I thought you might enjoy--sheer, navy, namely--but I would not deny you. *She pauses, finishing another row at length and laughs suddenly, sharp and bright* Malcolm! *She swivels to look at him,* It's your mother! I imagine rare herbs and wine replace the tea and crumpets but still-I am telling her you think visiting her is dull.

Malcolm: As if I would be that predictable *Obviously, the special outfits would be -after- the first time, not during it.Grinning as she laughed and spoke out his name, oh how he loved the way she said his name, he laughed as well* Twisting my words as usual! *he sniffs and shrugs* Go on, tell her. She will not believe you.

Jane: *Only more curious now, she furrowed her brows considering, and shook her head finally.* All right. You have my undying interest. *A furrowed brow arches.* Unless it's...contraceptives? It's not, right? Because...*a bit uneasy*...that's condemned by the Church...*Sure, so were pre-marital relations, but love was honestly all she had wanted; why deny them further what they both wanted? Grinning wider as he did, she added sweetly,* Oh she won't? That's a bet I'm willing to take.

Malcolm: *shaking his head to ease her worry, he kissed her cheek afterwards* No, it's not. *And according to a very uncomfortable talk he had nearly three years ago, he wouldn't have to leave his own home to find contraceptives to begin with.* A bet? *he smirked* Now that does sound far more intriguing.

Jane: *heartened, she nodded and let her eyes flutter shut as he kissed her. Glad he didn't press, she resumed wondering--imagining, really--with ease and delight.* Agreed! *She giggles.* If your mother believes me, then you have to find whatever is being delivered by tonight at ten, buy it however else you possibly can or fetch it...if you win?

Malcolm: *Hmm, potentially problematic. It would certainly involve some discomfort on his end, definite discomfort for the vendor...impossible, no, but quite difficult.* Damn your impatience. *he shook his head and then smirked* If I win, you have to stay silent for 24 hours.

Jane: *Waiting contrarily patiently as he determined whether it would be possible, she brightened seeing it was.* I am impatient. *she nods* In this particularly. *she kisses his cheek again, and then her eyes go wide.* Silent!? *she squeaked it--oh damn him. Blinking once, she pursed her lips at him.* You really want me to make no sounds?

Malcolm: I'm not exactly known for my patience either love, but you give an entire new definition to the term. *laughing once at her squeak, he smirks and nods* None. For a day of my choosing, yes.