A kiss is a lovely trick...
He’d called it a day a little early. The recent string of events he’d been working were all just about finished, and Lysander figured he’d earned a bit of extra time relaxing with the gorgeous witch in his life. He hadn’t bothered to owl; these days it was only if he wasn’t coming to see her after work that he sent a message. In truth, it was only by the very thinnest measure that he could say he lived at the church. Many of his clothes were at the manor, as were his toiletries, and several of his favorite books. Before long they’d probably need to have a discussion about a more permanent living arrangement, but there was no rush.
“Honey, I’m home,” he called as he took the stairs two at a time, eager to change into something more comfortable. Or nothing at all, Pansy had surprised him with that sort of welcome on more than one occasion. When he reached the bedroom though, what he found laid out on the bed was not his lover’s shapely person, and his brows rose slightly. “Pans? What’s with the spandex?”
It wasn’t Pansy who greeted him, but one of the manor’s many house elves. This one’s name was Evie; a tiny, female elf whose primary responsibilities were laundry and other responsibilities as they related to her mistress’s wardrobe. And now, her mistress’s mister.
“Mistress is at the stables,” she squeaked. “She is asking Master to change into his riding clothes and join her.” A tiny finger pointed towards the foot of the bed. “Evie has laid out Master’s riding habit and shined his boots. Will Master be needing anything else?”
“No, thank you, Evie. That will be all.” Once the elf was gone, Lysander eyed the riding pants on the bed. Generally he just rode in his denims. It was true he enjoyed the look of Pansy’s riding kit, and in particular the way her bum was hugged by the stretchy fabric, but it wasn’t a look he’d much cared to try for himself. He knew she’d be put out if he didn’t wear them, since she clearly gone out of her way to get him a pair, so with a sigh Lysander changed into the form fitting trousers.
A few minutes later he entered the stables, shaking his head at the smirk on his lover’s face. “They don’t leave much to the imagination, do they?” he quipped.
Pansy held her hand up. “Stop.” She set down the curry brush and crossed the alley towards him, walking a slow circle around her lover. Blue eyes took in every inch of Lysander -- who was right, of course. The trousers left little to the imagination.
They fit him perfectly.
Stopping in front of him, she tipped her head back to look him in the eye, and she was unable to keep the smirk from curling her lips once more. “I see they fit,” she commented, running her hands up the crisp white shirt he’d donned to compliment the outfit, the heat of his skin warming her palms.
Lysander traced over Pansy’s forearms until he covered her hands. Bringing one to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the back. “Yes, they are the correct size. It’s a good thing, any tighter and your favorite parts might’ve been injured.” Glancing up, he saw that ‘his’ horse was already saddled. “So we are actually going to ride. I was wondering if you were just going to make me parade around for your amusement.”
“The word you were looking for is pleasure, not amusement,” Pansy corrected him, one brow raised. “I should think I know you well enough to tailor a pair of trousers and boots to your body.” With how often she’d removed said trousers, she was very much an expert on Lysander’s physique.
“Well, it’s only fair that I get to partake in the pleasure of the tight pants too, don’t you think?” he asked, taking a step back, though he didn’t release her hands. Using his grip to turn her in a circle, Lysander lingered over the shapely posterior that was perfectly accentuated in Pansy’s riding pants, and wore a smirk of his own when she was facing him again. “I’ll have to see if I know your body as well and commission something delicate for my viewing pleasure.”
Pansy’s lip curled as she leaned in, brushing her lips across his jaw until she could whisper, “I look forward to testing your knowledge,” in his ear.
“I’m sure you do.” Flashing a mischievous grin, he bent to catch his girlfriend’s ruby lips, giving her a proper hello. “Now, where are we riding off to today? Somewhere you can take these painted on trousers off of me, or just a regular pleasure ride?”
“Who says we can’t do both?” Leaning in to brush another quick kiss over Lysander’s lips, she pulled away from embrace and started across the alley to where Oberon waited patiently. The stallion snorted at her, as if thoroughly bored with his mistress’s romantic happenings.
She climbed up into the saddle with a practiced ease, swinging one leg across the horse’s broad back as she grasped the reins lightly in one hand. Waiting on Lysander to do the same, she said, “I thought we might ride to the upper fields today, towards the miller’s pond. Somewhere we might,” her gaze flickered to said painted-on trousers, and a smirk pulled at her lips, “enjoy the wildflowers.”
With a snort, Lysander climbed atop his chestnut gelding, pulling him up beside Pansy’s mount. “Lead the way then, my lovely. You know how I love wildflowers.”
Pansy flashed him a quick smile before they were off. Their mounts set off on a soft trot for the few first paces out of the stable and through the paddock before she let Oberon let loose. The powerful horse started to canter before breaking into a full gallop. She loved riding this way -- the wind blowing through her hair, the beautiful grounds of the estate flying past her as she did.
And Lysander next to her. She quite liked that as well.
They pushed the horses hard over the expansive open land, and the beasts seemed glad for the chance to stretch their legs as they raced toward the small body of water at the northernmost edge of Pansy’s property. The field of wildflowers his lover had mentioned rose before them, and Lysander eased his mount from a gallop back to a canter and finally into a walk, letting him catch his breath and slow his adrenaline before his rider dismounted.
“My lady requested wildflowers, I believe,” he called as Pansy climbed down from Oberon, his crop swishing through the grass.
“And here we have found them,” she replied, lashing the reins to a nearby willow tree as she tossed an inviting smile over her shoulder at Lysander. The sweet scent of flowers and fresh grass surrounded them, and a slight breeze caused ripples to wave across the pond.
He followed her example, securing Morpheus to the tree. His horse taken care of, Lysander meandered to where Pansy stood and slipped his arms around her small waist. “So we have. What shall we do now? Skip rocks on the pond? Rustle up a maypole to dance around? Or I could parade around in my trousers that leave nothing to the imagination?”
Pansy’s own arms slipped around his neck, going up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw. “As tempting as that last point sounds,” she said, smiling against his skin, “I was thinking we could talk.”
That was not what he’d expected. He and Pansy spent many evenings chatting companionably, but the cues he’d gotten this afternoon were not the sort that indicated conversation was on her mind. “Of course, if you like. Is something wrong?”
“Must something be wrong for us to talk?” Sliding out from his embrace, she took his hand and led him away from their mounts and towards the pond. Spying a suitable spot, she settled down amongst the flowers, pulling Lysander down next to her. “And I did not say we would only talk.”
“No, but generally there’s a reason behind a woman specifying talking as an activity. Casual conversation rarely requires such an introduction.” Stretching out on the ground, he lay on his side, face turned to Pansy’s lovely visage. “And we’ll see what will happen afterward, missy. What if I’m not in the mood?” As if.
“That would be a first,” Pansy replied with a raised brow. Since the renewal of their relationship, they’d been quite ardent in making up for lost time. She could count the number of nights they’d spent apart on one hand. Said hand reached out and casually undid his top button, coy blue eyes meeting his gaze.
Reaching out, Lysander smoothed a hand over his girlfriend’s thigh, a smirk growing on his lips. “I didn’t say it was likely, but there’s a first time for everything.” He raised a brow in return. “So, quit stalling. What did you want to talk about?”
“I’m hardly stalling, darling,” she countered as the second button on his shirt popped free of its fastenings, exposing another bit of his tan skin to her gaze. “I’m multitasking.”
“Except that you’ve not really started the second task,” he pointed out, wondering mildly why he was attempting to inhibit Pansy from undressing him. “Not that I mind the task you’ve begun, but if you take it too far, my mind will not be on conversation.”
Pansy’s lips curled as she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his exposed chest. “Well,” she said as she pulled back, casually flicking open a third button. “We can’t have that now, can we?” Despite her nonchalant tone, she felt anything but. The idea of this conversation had been weighing on her for some time -- since their first official date, really.
“Lysander, what are we doing?”
His brows furrowed slightly and he looked at Pansy with confusion in his eyes. “I thought the plan was to have a chat and then some fantastic sex, but maybe I’ve gotten the signals wrong?”
She shook her head. “No, not at this moment. I meant, what are we,” she gestured to the space between them, “doing?” The confusion didn’t lift in his dark gaze, and she clarified. “Where are we going with our... our relationship?”
Oh. This was that talk. He supposed it wasn’t really surprising that Pansy would need to have it, given their history.
Taking a deep breath, Lysander caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. He’d thought about their future, though most of the time it was in vague terms. He’d never considered a timeline. “Where do you want it to go?” he asked.
“I’ve never tried to hide what I want with you, Lysander. My feelings are quite clear on the subject, while yours...” she countered and trailed off, blue eyes flashing with emotion. “I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen years old. I won’t settle for less than everything.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she added, “I can’t.”
Mouth curling into a soft smile, he pulled her into his lap. “I’m open to whatever evolution our relationship takes. I’ll admit I haven’t been in a big hurry to plan it all out, but I love you, Pansy. The idea of having you as my wife one day makes me happy. Thinking of having children still makes me a bit panicky, but I think that’s normal. I imagine that lasts until they grow up.”
She stiffened, blue eyes slightly wide and mouth barely agape as she stared at him. There was a ringing noise in her ears, and she hadn’t heard the last bits of what he’d said. It was as if all time and sound had stopped with those words -- I love you; words she’d only imagined him saying. Words she’d not heard from another living soul in over ten years.
Pansy wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
Her hands trembled slightly when she cupped his cheek, thumb brushing lightly over his skin. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Not yet. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and buried her face in his neck, blinking to ward off the tears of joy that threatened.
Lysander’s arms circled her and for several minutes he just held her close, running his hands up and down her back and pressing soft kisses into her hair. Pansy spent so much time with her guard up that it was strange to see her so vulnerable, but he wasn’t surprised. He remembered the girl she’d been in school, before life made her wary and distrustful. Since they’d been together, he’d seen glimpses of that girl, but this was the first her walls had truly come down. “Alright, love?”
She nodded against his neck, holding onto him for another long moment before she pulled back to look at him. “I am,” she said softly. “I am now.”
Cupping his face, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. One hand slipped between them, undoing the final two buttons that remained. Fingertips glided over the strip of exposed skin, trailing her nails up his chest.
Threading his fingers through her hair, Lysander kissed her slowly, thoroughly. She was his, and he was hers. The insecurity had been erased and Pansy was soft in his arms. He tipped her back into the grass, letting one hand stray to the buttons of her shirt, following her lead as he slowly freed each from its eye.
Pansy sighed in contentment and let her eyes open, peering at Lysander’s hand from beneath hooded lids. His hand was warm against her skin where it slipped beneath her shirt. Her stomach contracted instinctively when he touched her, and gooseflesh prickled in its wake. It was dizzying to think that this was real. This was her forever, with this man -- the only one she’d ever really wanted.
He smiled as he pushed the fabric away from her chest, then trailed a light finger from the hollow of her throat, through the valley between her breasts, before his hand settled flat and warm against Pansy’s stomach. It moved in soft sweeps over the plane of her belly and down to her side. Bending down, Lysander dropped kisses on smooth skin, his tongue dipping into her navel. Pansy was beautiful, bright, and his.
She made a sharp noise of surprise; surprise tinged with pleasure, moaning on a soft exhale as one hand found his hair. Her clothes were constricting her body, and she felt warm all over -- especially everywhere he touched her. Her back arched every so slightly, eyes sliding shut as his tongue traced a circle around her navel.
Sliding a hand beneath her, he unfastened the lacy brassiere the shielded Pansy’s lovely breasts from his view, then pushed it up, freeing the perfect globes. He trailed kisses from stomach to sternum before shifting his attention to a rosy nipple. Lysander nipped lightly at the pink peak, a low growl rumbling in his throat.
Pansy shifted beneath him and mewled in pleasure, tipping her head back when his lips closed around her breast. Releasing her grip on his hair, she pulled the back of her shirt out of her trousers and pushed it up over her head, taking her half-worn bra with it so she was bare from the waist up.
Separated from her momentarily as Pansy tossed aside the clothes that had covered her upper body, Lysander let his gaze travel over his love. She really was a beautiful woman. From creamy alabaster skin to the full, cherry lips which were now slightly parted in anticipation, she was an artist’s delight, the perfect woman. He’d delayed far too long in taking her for his own. Pansy had waited for him long enough.
Deft fingers worked the form-fitting trousers from her body, taking the knickers beneath as he went. His sudden fervor was not lost on Pansy and she seemed eager to assist the process, kicking off her boots and reaching to unfasten his own clothes as soon as he was within reach. When at last he claimed her, soft kisses dusting her lips as he slipped between her folds, he said the words again, “I love you.”
With sweet grass crushed beneath her bare skin and Lysander’s weight atop her, the smell of wildflowers around them, Pansy felt the world come to a halt. There was nothing else but the two of them in the moment; nothing but love and desire come together after over a decade apart.
“Say it again,” she whispered with a shudder, arching as he slowly withdrew before pushing back into her.
“I love you,” Lysander murmured as his mouth trailed down her regal neck. He moved within her, savoring each delicious stroke. He wanted this, always.
Her fingers pressed into the skin between his shoulderblades, holding him to her as he moved inside of her. Whereas previous couplings had been furious, slaking the desire that had built over the past decade, this was almost reverent in the way their bodies moved together. Passion and love commingled in the minute space between them, passing back and forth with every touch of skin.
“I, oh,” Pansy gasped, her nails digging in when one thrust hit that spot deep inside that made stars explode behind her eyelids. “Love you.”
She was unimaginably beautiful then, secure at last in his affection and filled with the ecstasy of their lovemaking. She was his, and they were perfect. This was what he wanted, forever. Lysander cupped her face, lifting his head just enough to meet the pale blue of her eyes. “Marry me.”
Pansy’s body stilled beneath his as the words he’d spoken slowly registered in her desire-ladden brain. “What?” she whispered.
A smile curling his lips, he repeated his request. “I said ‘marry me’. Be my wife.”
It wasn’t the proposal she’d dreamed off -- not that she’d ever admit she dreamed of such a thing. But it was perfect because it was their proposal; Lysander was the only man she’d ever been able to truly envision a future with, and despite their ups and downs over the past decade, he was the only one she wanted by her side.
“Yes,” she whispered, tilting her head up to meet his kiss. “Yes.”
He caught her lips, drinking deeply of their sweetness. “Brilliant,” he said before speeding his movements, making love to her with abandon.
Her nails pressed into his skin, the only indication she was at her pleasure until she cried his name in release. Slim legs wrapped loosely around his hips as he continued to move inside of her, and Pansy let one hand slip between their bodies to grasp him as his length, coaxing him towards his own end.
He was not long behind her, moving within her a handful of times before letting go and spilling inside his future wife with a deep moan of satisfaction. For the next few minutes, the only sound was their heavy breaths, easing little by little until Lysander had the strength to shift into the grass.
Flashing a grin, he teased, “I had no idea this was to be such an eventful evening. Did you bewitch the riding trousers?”
“No,” she answered, curling into his side and letting one hand rest on his bare chest. Her gaze flickered beneath dark eyelashes, seeking out his mirthful grin with a coy one of her own. “Did you hide a ring in those riding trousers?”
With a snort, Lysander shook his head. “I don’t think it’s possible to hide anything in those trousers. I suppose we’ll need to go shopping very soon.”
“Among other things.” She gave a little exhale and let her head drop to rest on his shoulder. The tip of her finger traced a small spiral on his warm skin, feeling his heart beating just beneath it. “You should move the rest of your things in.” Her tone took on a teasing note. “Your dramatic romance novels are already here, so I can’t imagine you have much left at the church.”
“Officially move in? Before you make an honest man of me?” Lysander raised his brows in feigned shock. “You are a bad influence, Miss Parkinson.” The truth was that he didn’t have much left at his little church home, just a few of the clothes he didn’t particularly care for and the housewares he had no need to bring to the manor. “I suppose I’ll have to decide what to do with the place. I hate to let it go, but it’s silly to keep it empty.”
Pansy pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You could let it out for a while and see how you liked that.”
He hummed in consideration, then put the thought aside for the moment. There was time to deal with the practicalities, right now he had a beautiful woman naked beside him. “We’ll think on it. Now, what do you say to a dip in the pond?”
She raised one brow at him. “I say you first.”
Grin turning mischievous, Lysander climbed to his feet. As Pansy followed suit, he tossed her over his shoulder and started marching for the miller’s pond. “We’ll see about that.”
“Honey, I’m home,” he called as he took the stairs two at a time, eager to change into something more comfortable. Or nothing at all, Pansy had surprised him with that sort of welcome on more than one occasion. When he reached the bedroom though, what he found laid out on the bed was not his lover’s shapely person, and his brows rose slightly. “Pans? What’s with the spandex?”
It wasn’t Pansy who greeted him, but one of the manor’s many house elves. This one’s name was Evie; a tiny, female elf whose primary responsibilities were laundry and other responsibilities as they related to her mistress’s wardrobe. And now, her mistress’s mister.
“Mistress is at the stables,” she squeaked. “She is asking Master to change into his riding clothes and join her.” A tiny finger pointed towards the foot of the bed. “Evie has laid out Master’s riding habit and shined his boots. Will Master be needing anything else?”
“No, thank you, Evie. That will be all.” Once the elf was gone, Lysander eyed the riding pants on the bed. Generally he just rode in his denims. It was true he enjoyed the look of Pansy’s riding kit, and in particular the way her bum was hugged by the stretchy fabric, but it wasn’t a look he’d much cared to try for himself. He knew she’d be put out if he didn’t wear them, since she clearly gone out of her way to get him a pair, so with a sigh Lysander changed into the form fitting trousers.
A few minutes later he entered the stables, shaking his head at the smirk on his lover’s face. “They don’t leave much to the imagination, do they?” he quipped.
Pansy held her hand up. “Stop.” She set down the curry brush and crossed the alley towards him, walking a slow circle around her lover. Blue eyes took in every inch of Lysander -- who was right, of course. The trousers left little to the imagination.
They fit him perfectly.
Stopping in front of him, she tipped her head back to look him in the eye, and she was unable to keep the smirk from curling her lips once more. “I see they fit,” she commented, running her hands up the crisp white shirt he’d donned to compliment the outfit, the heat of his skin warming her palms.
Lysander traced over Pansy’s forearms until he covered her hands. Bringing one to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the back. “Yes, they are the correct size. It’s a good thing, any tighter and your favorite parts might’ve been injured.” Glancing up, he saw that ‘his’ horse was already saddled. “So we are actually going to ride. I was wondering if you were just going to make me parade around for your amusement.”
“The word you were looking for is pleasure, not amusement,” Pansy corrected him, one brow raised. “I should think I know you well enough to tailor a pair of trousers and boots to your body.” With how often she’d removed said trousers, she was very much an expert on Lysander’s physique.
“Well, it’s only fair that I get to partake in the pleasure of the tight pants too, don’t you think?” he asked, taking a step back, though he didn’t release her hands. Using his grip to turn her in a circle, Lysander lingered over the shapely posterior that was perfectly accentuated in Pansy’s riding pants, and wore a smirk of his own when she was facing him again. “I’ll have to see if I know your body as well and commission something delicate for my viewing pleasure.”
Pansy’s lip curled as she leaned in, brushing her lips across his jaw until she could whisper, “I look forward to testing your knowledge,” in his ear.
“I’m sure you do.” Flashing a mischievous grin, he bent to catch his girlfriend’s ruby lips, giving her a proper hello. “Now, where are we riding off to today? Somewhere you can take these painted on trousers off of me, or just a regular pleasure ride?”
“Who says we can’t do both?” Leaning in to brush another quick kiss over Lysander’s lips, she pulled away from embrace and started across the alley to where Oberon waited patiently. The stallion snorted at her, as if thoroughly bored with his mistress’s romantic happenings.
She climbed up into the saddle with a practiced ease, swinging one leg across the horse’s broad back as she grasped the reins lightly in one hand. Waiting on Lysander to do the same, she said, “I thought we might ride to the upper fields today, towards the miller’s pond. Somewhere we might,” her gaze flickered to said painted-on trousers, and a smirk pulled at her lips, “enjoy the wildflowers.”
With a snort, Lysander climbed atop his chestnut gelding, pulling him up beside Pansy’s mount. “Lead the way then, my lovely. You know how I love wildflowers.”
Pansy flashed him a quick smile before they were off. Their mounts set off on a soft trot for the few first paces out of the stable and through the paddock before she let Oberon let loose. The powerful horse started to canter before breaking into a full gallop. She loved riding this way -- the wind blowing through her hair, the beautiful grounds of the estate flying past her as she did.
And Lysander next to her. She quite liked that as well.
They pushed the horses hard over the expansive open land, and the beasts seemed glad for the chance to stretch their legs as they raced toward the small body of water at the northernmost edge of Pansy’s property. The field of wildflowers his lover had mentioned rose before them, and Lysander eased his mount from a gallop back to a canter and finally into a walk, letting him catch his breath and slow his adrenaline before his rider dismounted.
“My lady requested wildflowers, I believe,” he called as Pansy climbed down from Oberon, his crop swishing through the grass.
“And here we have found them,” she replied, lashing the reins to a nearby willow tree as she tossed an inviting smile over her shoulder at Lysander. The sweet scent of flowers and fresh grass surrounded them, and a slight breeze caused ripples to wave across the pond.
He followed her example, securing Morpheus to the tree. His horse taken care of, Lysander meandered to where Pansy stood and slipped his arms around her small waist. “So we have. What shall we do now? Skip rocks on the pond? Rustle up a maypole to dance around? Or I could parade around in my trousers that leave nothing to the imagination?”
Pansy’s own arms slipped around his neck, going up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw. “As tempting as that last point sounds,” she said, smiling against his skin, “I was thinking we could talk.”
That was not what he’d expected. He and Pansy spent many evenings chatting companionably, but the cues he’d gotten this afternoon were not the sort that indicated conversation was on her mind. “Of course, if you like. Is something wrong?”
“Must something be wrong for us to talk?” Sliding out from his embrace, she took his hand and led him away from their mounts and towards the pond. Spying a suitable spot, she settled down amongst the flowers, pulling Lysander down next to her. “And I did not say we would only talk.”
“No, but generally there’s a reason behind a woman specifying talking as an activity. Casual conversation rarely requires such an introduction.” Stretching out on the ground, he lay on his side, face turned to Pansy’s lovely visage. “And we’ll see what will happen afterward, missy. What if I’m not in the mood?” As if.
“That would be a first,” Pansy replied with a raised brow. Since the renewal of their relationship, they’d been quite ardent in making up for lost time. She could count the number of nights they’d spent apart on one hand. Said hand reached out and casually undid his top button, coy blue eyes meeting his gaze.
Reaching out, Lysander smoothed a hand over his girlfriend’s thigh, a smirk growing on his lips. “I didn’t say it was likely, but there’s a first time for everything.” He raised a brow in return. “So, quit stalling. What did you want to talk about?”
“I’m hardly stalling, darling,” she countered as the second button on his shirt popped free of its fastenings, exposing another bit of his tan skin to her gaze. “I’m multitasking.”
“Except that you’ve not really started the second task,” he pointed out, wondering mildly why he was attempting to inhibit Pansy from undressing him. “Not that I mind the task you’ve begun, but if you take it too far, my mind will not be on conversation.”
Pansy’s lips curled as she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his exposed chest. “Well,” she said as she pulled back, casually flicking open a third button. “We can’t have that now, can we?” Despite her nonchalant tone, she felt anything but. The idea of this conversation had been weighing on her for some time -- since their first official date, really.
“Lysander, what are we doing?”
His brows furrowed slightly and he looked at Pansy with confusion in his eyes. “I thought the plan was to have a chat and then some fantastic sex, but maybe I’ve gotten the signals wrong?”
She shook her head. “No, not at this moment. I meant, what are we,” she gestured to the space between them, “doing?” The confusion didn’t lift in his dark gaze, and she clarified. “Where are we going with our... our relationship?”
Oh. This was that talk. He supposed it wasn’t really surprising that Pansy would need to have it, given their history.
Taking a deep breath, Lysander caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. He’d thought about their future, though most of the time it was in vague terms. He’d never considered a timeline. “Where do you want it to go?” he asked.
“I’ve never tried to hide what I want with you, Lysander. My feelings are quite clear on the subject, while yours...” she countered and trailed off, blue eyes flashing with emotion. “I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen years old. I won’t settle for less than everything.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she added, “I can’t.”
Mouth curling into a soft smile, he pulled her into his lap. “I’m open to whatever evolution our relationship takes. I’ll admit I haven’t been in a big hurry to plan it all out, but I love you, Pansy. The idea of having you as my wife one day makes me happy. Thinking of having children still makes me a bit panicky, but I think that’s normal. I imagine that lasts until they grow up.”
She stiffened, blue eyes slightly wide and mouth barely agape as she stared at him. There was a ringing noise in her ears, and she hadn’t heard the last bits of what he’d said. It was as if all time and sound had stopped with those words -- I love you; words she’d only imagined him saying. Words she’d not heard from another living soul in over ten years.
Pansy wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
Her hands trembled slightly when she cupped his cheek, thumb brushing lightly over his skin. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Not yet. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and buried her face in his neck, blinking to ward off the tears of joy that threatened.
Lysander’s arms circled her and for several minutes he just held her close, running his hands up and down her back and pressing soft kisses into her hair. Pansy spent so much time with her guard up that it was strange to see her so vulnerable, but he wasn’t surprised. He remembered the girl she’d been in school, before life made her wary and distrustful. Since they’d been together, he’d seen glimpses of that girl, but this was the first her walls had truly come down. “Alright, love?”
She nodded against his neck, holding onto him for another long moment before she pulled back to look at him. “I am,” she said softly. “I am now.”
Cupping his face, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. One hand slipped between them, undoing the final two buttons that remained. Fingertips glided over the strip of exposed skin, trailing her nails up his chest.
Threading his fingers through her hair, Lysander kissed her slowly, thoroughly. She was his, and he was hers. The insecurity had been erased and Pansy was soft in his arms. He tipped her back into the grass, letting one hand stray to the buttons of her shirt, following her lead as he slowly freed each from its eye.
Pansy sighed in contentment and let her eyes open, peering at Lysander’s hand from beneath hooded lids. His hand was warm against her skin where it slipped beneath her shirt. Her stomach contracted instinctively when he touched her, and gooseflesh prickled in its wake. It was dizzying to think that this was real. This was her forever, with this man -- the only one she’d ever really wanted.
He smiled as he pushed the fabric away from her chest, then trailed a light finger from the hollow of her throat, through the valley between her breasts, before his hand settled flat and warm against Pansy’s stomach. It moved in soft sweeps over the plane of her belly and down to her side. Bending down, Lysander dropped kisses on smooth skin, his tongue dipping into her navel. Pansy was beautiful, bright, and his.
She made a sharp noise of surprise; surprise tinged with pleasure, moaning on a soft exhale as one hand found his hair. Her clothes were constricting her body, and she felt warm all over -- especially everywhere he touched her. Her back arched every so slightly, eyes sliding shut as his tongue traced a circle around her navel.
Sliding a hand beneath her, he unfastened the lacy brassiere the shielded Pansy’s lovely breasts from his view, then pushed it up, freeing the perfect globes. He trailed kisses from stomach to sternum before shifting his attention to a rosy nipple. Lysander nipped lightly at the pink peak, a low growl rumbling in his throat.
Pansy shifted beneath him and mewled in pleasure, tipping her head back when his lips closed around her breast. Releasing her grip on his hair, she pulled the back of her shirt out of her trousers and pushed it up over her head, taking her half-worn bra with it so she was bare from the waist up.
Separated from her momentarily as Pansy tossed aside the clothes that had covered her upper body, Lysander let his gaze travel over his love. She really was a beautiful woman. From creamy alabaster skin to the full, cherry lips which were now slightly parted in anticipation, she was an artist’s delight, the perfect woman. He’d delayed far too long in taking her for his own. Pansy had waited for him long enough.
Deft fingers worked the form-fitting trousers from her body, taking the knickers beneath as he went. His sudden fervor was not lost on Pansy and she seemed eager to assist the process, kicking off her boots and reaching to unfasten his own clothes as soon as he was within reach. When at last he claimed her, soft kisses dusting her lips as he slipped between her folds, he said the words again, “I love you.”
With sweet grass crushed beneath her bare skin and Lysander’s weight atop her, the smell of wildflowers around them, Pansy felt the world come to a halt. There was nothing else but the two of them in the moment; nothing but love and desire come together after over a decade apart.
“Say it again,” she whispered with a shudder, arching as he slowly withdrew before pushing back into her.
“I love you,” Lysander murmured as his mouth trailed down her regal neck. He moved within her, savoring each delicious stroke. He wanted this, always.
Her fingers pressed into the skin between his shoulderblades, holding him to her as he moved inside of her. Whereas previous couplings had been furious, slaking the desire that had built over the past decade, this was almost reverent in the way their bodies moved together. Passion and love commingled in the minute space between them, passing back and forth with every touch of skin.
“I, oh,” Pansy gasped, her nails digging in when one thrust hit that spot deep inside that made stars explode behind her eyelids. “Love you.”
She was unimaginably beautiful then, secure at last in his affection and filled with the ecstasy of their lovemaking. She was his, and they were perfect. This was what he wanted, forever. Lysander cupped her face, lifting his head just enough to meet the pale blue of her eyes. “Marry me.”
Pansy’s body stilled beneath his as the words he’d spoken slowly registered in her desire-ladden brain. “What?” she whispered.
A smile curling his lips, he repeated his request. “I said ‘marry me’. Be my wife.”
It wasn’t the proposal she’d dreamed off -- not that she’d ever admit she dreamed of such a thing. But it was perfect because it was their proposal; Lysander was the only man she’d ever been able to truly envision a future with, and despite their ups and downs over the past decade, he was the only one she wanted by her side.
“Yes,” she whispered, tilting her head up to meet his kiss. “Yes.”
He caught her lips, drinking deeply of their sweetness. “Brilliant,” he said before speeding his movements, making love to her with abandon.
Her nails pressed into his skin, the only indication she was at her pleasure until she cried his name in release. Slim legs wrapped loosely around his hips as he continued to move inside of her, and Pansy let one hand slip between their bodies to grasp him as his length, coaxing him towards his own end.
He was not long behind her, moving within her a handful of times before letting go and spilling inside his future wife with a deep moan of satisfaction. For the next few minutes, the only sound was their heavy breaths, easing little by little until Lysander had the strength to shift into the grass.
Flashing a grin, he teased, “I had no idea this was to be such an eventful evening. Did you bewitch the riding trousers?”
“No,” she answered, curling into his side and letting one hand rest on his bare chest. Her gaze flickered beneath dark eyelashes, seeking out his mirthful grin with a coy one of her own. “Did you hide a ring in those riding trousers?”
With a snort, Lysander shook his head. “I don’t think it’s possible to hide anything in those trousers. I suppose we’ll need to go shopping very soon.”
“Among other things.” She gave a little exhale and let her head drop to rest on his shoulder. The tip of her finger traced a small spiral on his warm skin, feeling his heart beating just beneath it. “You should move the rest of your things in.” Her tone took on a teasing note. “Your dramatic romance novels are already here, so I can’t imagine you have much left at the church.”
“Officially move in? Before you make an honest man of me?” Lysander raised his brows in feigned shock. “You are a bad influence, Miss Parkinson.” The truth was that he didn’t have much left at his little church home, just a few of the clothes he didn’t particularly care for and the housewares he had no need to bring to the manor. “I suppose I’ll have to decide what to do with the place. I hate to let it go, but it’s silly to keep it empty.”
Pansy pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You could let it out for a while and see how you liked that.”
He hummed in consideration, then put the thought aside for the moment. There was time to deal with the practicalities, right now he had a beautiful woman naked beside him. “We’ll think on it. Now, what do you say to a dip in the pond?”
She raised one brow at him. “I say you first.”
Grin turning mischievous, Lysander climbed to his feet. As Pansy followed suit, he tossed her over his shoulder and started marching for the miller’s pond. “We’ll see about that.”