They reach the bed and then he realises something--the clothing has to go. He shoves down the sting of emotion that stabs him when his hands instinctively go to unfasten the stays the way they've always done. He can mourn later, curse his own faithlessness later. Right now this fire within him burns too hot and insistent to deny for even a second. He drowns those emotions in another kiss as he gently pushes the dress from her shoulders, then pulls it down until it slides over her hips.

Once she's free of it he moans softly into the join of their lips, hands exploring her skin. She feels so good, her skin soft under his hands. He curls his arms around her and lowers her onto the bed, sinking down onto her. His body moves slowly against hers and his lips go to her neck, hot and wet and gentle, now, curiously exploring its long, graceful line.