Downton Abbey Progress

_So I wrote this months ago and only just realized I had never posted it here. Thanks so much to mediawatchinggal for alerting me to this fact. I am dedicating this especially to you, girl! _

_I don't own Mary or Charles or any other DA character. But I love them so very dearly. Enjoy!_

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It had begun innocently enough.

A walk after dinner on a warm summer's night, the lights of London casting a spell on streets shimmering with the effects of an earlier rain. Then the brush of his hand against hers—an inquiry, a masked plea to which she gave her acceptance as an ever growing attachment was sealed with physical touch. Warmth spread from her fingers quickly up her arms and into her torso, the intimacy of such a gesture nearly forgotten rediscovered in a flash. She looked at him under her lashes, wondering if he sensed it, or if the enormity of this connection was something she alone felt.

She caught him staring at her—tender, yet hard. And she couldn't move. Then he was facing her, his gaze fixed on her eyes, his free hand forging a deliberate path to her cheek, cupping it, stroking it. Her breath was fractured, stilled, blood rushing to her head as the inevitable stared back at her in pools of brown.

"Mary."

It was all that was said before speech became impossible, lips choosing to touch and probe rather than reason. His were gentle yet firm, stroking hers with the same soft determination that had characterized the manner of his courtship. Tingles burst from her chest, rapidly hijacking her veins as sensation coursed through every nerve ending she possessed. Fingers tugged on his lapels, needing him closer, testing new waters as her own mouth dared to sample and tease.

Her initiative emboldened him, and strong arms gathering her to his chest, the contact sparking a tightening in her belly she recognized well. She should stop this, the ground on which they were standing beginning to quake dangerously, but God, it felt so good to be held, to be kissed.

By him. By Charles.

She felt him draw back slowly, leaning into the sensation of his fingers tracing circles on her cheeks, nearly dizzy with emotion and a blossoming physical need. His eyes looked black in the relative darkness, the smolder in his gaze doing nothing to calm blood already racing haphazardly. He held her mesmerized, and she didn't dare look away, even though his stare was frighteningly potent.

"Charles, I…" she began, pausing to swallow down the unexpected raspiness in her voice. Her eyes fluttered in tandem with insides, her hands not daring to release the fabric of his jacket lest she lose her balance. Just then a humid breeze lifted her skirt, a distant peal of thunder hinting that the rains from earlier were not yet complete.

"We should go, Mary," he broke in, his palm pressing against the small of her back. "I don't think it would be wise for us to remain outdoors much longer."

The warmth of the night was shoved aside as chilled air made her legs shiver.

"I agree," she reasoned, attempting to focus in spite of the presence of his hand so close to her skin. "Should we return to the restaurant?"

"There's no need," he stated, his gaze now honed squarely ahead. "My flat is relatively close by. We could be there before the storm hits if we…"

He stopped, his face freezing as realization of what he had just offered set in. "I'm sorry, Mary, I didn't mean—"

Thunder interrupted yet again, this time with more insistence and a nastier tone.

"I think it's a splendid idea," she cut in as another gust of wind threatened to undo her hair. "Lead the way."

They moved quickly down the pavement past other pedestrians attempting to dodge the incoming weather, and she wished quite suddenly she had worn more practical shoes. His hand moved from her back to her own, clasping it gently, guiding her towards a destination that both intrigued and alarmed her. Finally they arrived, moving inside and upstairs with haste as the first drops of rain began to dot the sidewalk.

"We made it just in time, it would seem," she observed, fidgeting slightly as he fumbled with his keys.

"I'm glad," he replied, opening the door for her and gesturing for her to enter. "It sounds as if the heavens are splitting apart out there."

A blast rattled the windows slightly, emphasizing his point wordlessly.

"Welcome."

She took in her surrounding with interest, the neat, business-like interior exactly what she would have expected for his residence. It smelled decidedly masculine, an implication that quickly reawakened nerve endings tickled earlier by his kiss.

"Can I get you anything, Mary?"

His voice dropped slightly, stroking her across the space between them.

"No," she stated, shaking her head in an attempt to gain some clarity. "I'm fine, really."

Her lie tasted odd on her tongue, and she flexed her toes, now throbbing painfully after their rather hurried journey down the streets of London.

"Something is bothering you," he pressed, taking a step towards her. She began to wonder which ache was more distracting, the one plaguing her angry arches or the one forming in regions she dared not name.

"My feet," she reluctantly admitted, staring down at her shoes self-consciously. "I'm afraid they're protesting the pace of our sprint."

He blinked in surprise, looking down to her high heels in concern.

"Well, take those shoes off, then," he instructed with a shrug. "I promise not to tell anyone."

Her cheeks burned in tandem as her throat constricted, and she pushed aside her nonsensical reaction. After all, it wasn't as if he had asked her to remove her dress. Not yet, anyway.

"Alright," she acquiesced, watching him as one foot abandoned its uncomfortable confines. "But you must promise not to tell Mama."

The grin he flashed her was both boyish and sensual, a combination that threated to undo her as her other foot slid out from its protective covering. "She will hear nothing of tonight's activities from me. I give you my word."

How tall he suddenly appeared, and she had to tilt her head upwards to gaze into his eyes. Her body trembled in spite of herself, his proximity, their location, and her complete awareness of him mixing into a heady brew she was finding incredibly potent.

"God, your chilled," he swore, moving to her side quickly, removing his jacket and laying it atop her shoulders, his hands boldly lingering on her arms. "Why didn't you tell me?"

The weight of his garment on her bare skin pressed her eyes shut as a heat formed in depths long abandoned began to stir anew.

"I'm not cold, Charles."

The daring of her admission surprised even herself, its huskiness sending a jolt through his body she felt against her back.

"Neither am I."

His scent intensified, and her eyes drifted shut in response, the feel of him so close again too much to rationally process. She leaned back, pressing softly against him as his arms hesitantly encircled her waist. The atmosphere thickened around them, words lost into a realm of sensation. His lips rested beside her ear, just there, almost touching, hovering in such a manner she feared might drive her mad.

They stood unmoving as the storm brewed around them, listening to the patter of rain, aware of an electricity sparking that had nothing to do with the elements outside. The rise and fall of his chest against her was strangely erotic, her mind fogging dangerously as heightened senses took command.

"Oh, Mary."

His whisper tickled her skin, shimmering across pores already on alert. Then his mouth grazed her ear, and she leaned into him, his hold on her firming up as his kiss covered intimate ground. He nipped her lobe gently, and she grasped his arms, needing something to hold as a wild frenzy began to take root.

Shifting ground, indeed.

She turned in his arms, lost to the feeling of his lips trailing across her cheek. Then they were mouth to mouth, inhaling each other, binding and sealing this simmering passion they had both struggled to keep at bay for months. Its tendrils swept around her insides, exciting nerves already sensitized, lighting a fire that reminded her she was still very much a woman. God—she needed this, to be held, to be cherished, to know there was still life in a body untouched for nearly two years.

She jumped as his tongue stroked her lips, opening to him immediately, tasting and savoring this stubborn, beguiling man determined to offer her a future. A slow burn was pulsing, nudging her closer, pushing her to explore him for herself as her fingers buried themselves in his hair.

His moan rocked her backwards, prompting him to hold her tighter. She responded in kind, clutching his shoulders as his jacket fell forgotten to the floor. The loss of the garment jolted them both, and she shuddered at the feel of his thumb tracing circles just above her glove.

"God," he murmured against her skin, his mouth moving down her jawline, then her neck, making her bite her lip as her body began to pound. She pressed herself against him, craving contact, wanting him.

All of him.

Her hands clutched his face, pulling his lips back to hers, attempting to both quell and inflame this inferno taking hold of her body. His mouth devoured hers, the heat of his tongue tripping wires that lead everywhere as she familiarized herself with his taste. A sound she didn't recognize escaped her, and he pulled back slightly, looking somewhat dazed and thoroughly aroused.

Everything halted save breathing, the caress of hot air on her temple as erotic as his touch. Her fingers stroked his hair, her eyes flashing her consent as his mouth answered in kind. Then they were moving, their steps awkward and uneven as neither wanted to break physical contact. She had no idea how to reach their destination, but no doubt of where he was leading. Her feet fell into step with his as lips finally parted, and he took her hand gently, watching her expression close to make certain she hadn't changed her mind.

She had not.

The flutterings in her stomach multiplied as they stepped into his bedroom, the understanding that they were about to cross a line that could not be retraced resounding clearly in her mind.

"Mary, we can go back, if you like."

His offer hung between them, fading as quickly as it had formed.

"No," she interrupted, mesmerized by the heat radiating from his skin. "Unless you want to go back, that is."

His lopsided grin charmed her, the fast interplay of his features making her pulse accelerate even more.

"I think it's fairly evident what I want," he admitted, the gravelly texture of his tone making her shiver. "If you haven't noticed."

She moved up against him, pressing in, nearly intoxicated by the sudden boldness flowing through her veins.

"How could I not?' she mused with a grin, eyeing him appreciatively. "You're not exactly subtle."

"Nor do I intend to be," he stated, sealing his declaration with a kiss that shook her to her knees. There was no going back now.

He began to fiddle with the strap of her dress, brushing it slightly aside, claiming a shoulder that had been teasing him for months. She jumped as his kiss stroked fresh skin, the sensation of his teeth nipping her lightly shimmying across her pores.

Then fingers were working nimbly against her back, her resolve and desire only increasing as each hook and button was deftly undone. Material brushed her arms on its journey down her torso, her flesh pimpling at new exposure to night air. He drew back to look at her, simultaneously making certain he had not gone too far and appreciating parts of her until now unseen.

His gaze burned her, the blackness of his eyes unleashing something primal she had no intention of fighting. She licked her lips as nostrils flared before mouths crashed into each other yet again, her hands working feverishly to relieve him of his shirt and waistcoat.

He shrugged the garments off his body, and her hands latched on quickly, mesmerized by the texture of bare skin under her palms. He was burning up, the sheer heat of him passing easily through the thin layer of her slip as her body sought to know him better. An ever-expanding ache was pooling deep, nudging her to toy with the fastenings of his trousers as silken straps were eased down, giving way under large hands on a mission.

Her slip was nudged lower, and she helped him push it off, stepping out of the covering and into eyes that devoured her.

"My God," he managed, swallowing hard, unable to tear his eyes from her for even a second. "You're more beautiful than I imagined."

He stroked her cheek, baring his feelings fully before daring to touch her anywhere else.

"So you've been imagining, then?" she whispered shakily, her eyes closing in response to the feel of his fingers dancing on her spine.

"You know I have," he answered languidly, pausing to drag her bottom lip through his teeth. "Haven't you?"

His lips moved down her neck, following the path of his hands as they began to skim lower.

"I'll never tell," she breathed, the admission nearly getting lost in his hair as his mouth teased her clavicle. His tongue found a spot that made her jump, and he smiled into her skin, his exploration of her becoming increasingly bold. One hand eased around her bottom, grasping it firmly as the other cupped one breast, making her cry out and grip his scalp, the contact nearly undoing her on the spot. Her nipple swelled into his palm, and she arched into him fully, silently begging for more. He readily complied, teasing and pinching, making her moan in the most delicious agony before dropping his head to take her into his mouth.

She nearly lost her footing.

They stumbled backwards into the bed, falling onto the mattress while never breaking their connection. She bucked against his mouth as his teeth and tongue toyed with her breast, one foot attempting to nudge his pants from his body as the need for all of him grew. He smiled at her insistence, standing quickly to rid himself of the offending trousers before stretching out on top of her again. Only the slightest of coverings separated them now, this new level of intimacy only heightening her arousal.

His attention moved to her other nipple, covering the one just lavished with his hand, the dual ministrations driving her absolutely mad. Her nails travelled down his back, eliciting a groan that vibrated into her ribs as he sucked her with more insistence. She could stand it no longer, needing his tongue in her mouth, his breath meshed with hers, and she pulled his face to her own, claiming what she desired.

Fingers traced the profile of her hip, clasping what material remained attached to her body. She felt the lace slide down slowly and raised her hips to assist him, the feel of his hand so very close to hidden ground rocking her soundly. Her knickers slid off warm thighs, down shaky legs, finally cast aside somewhere she couldn't see as his own undergarments hit the floor. They gaped at each other admiringly for just a moment, the need to connect driving everything else from their minds.

His hand slid back up her limbs, traipsing her inner thigh, making the pounding between her legs crescendo and accelerate in anticipation. He caressed her curls, summoning her to relax as his touch slowly entered private depths. She was burning, Her legs opening of their own volition, responding to the urgency he was building with each stroke. Her eyes squeezed shut, her head falling back into the pillow as his mouth resumed its music on her breast while his fingers worked magic elsewhere. A slow climb suddenly increased in tempo, nerves pulling tight as the fire in her abdomen blazed out of control. There was nothing outside of this …of his touch, his mouth…of him.

Lights exploded behind her eyes as her body convulsed again and again, straining against his hand as he continued to caress her intimately. She could then bear it no longer, her skin too sensitized in places for the slightest touch, and she summoned his lips back to hers, kissing him with abandon as she felt him nudge against her opening.

He was so ready for her, as she was for him, her body clenching an emptiness that was panting to be filled. She parted her legs, grasping him firmly, watching in fascination as a ripple ran down his spine at the contact. There was a fine sheen on his skin, and she sensed his control was near the snapping point as she drew him directly to her, fastening her eyes to his as he eased inside her for the first time.

A sigh escaped her as he filled her depths, and she kissed him hard as he began to move. A rhythm formed almost instantly, and she rocked against him, relishing the fullness, craving relief from the stirrings already forming. Her hips pressed with an urgency, receiving each thrust with an eagerness borne of hot need. She clasped his buttocks within her palms, holding him close, urging him on as his mouth ravaged her own. His hand again found her breast, the renewed attentions to her nipple tossing her into a near frenzy.

Moan met moan, hands stroked flesh, and tongues dueled with an electric passion that consumed all but what was occurring in his bed. She was rising, constantly rising, the spiraling climb becoming nearly excruciating as she drew ever nearer to her peak. She increased her speed frantically, seeking, begging, nipping his neck as her nails clenched into his buttocks, desperation fueling every move, every kiss.

Then it hit, and he cried out as she shattered, her head falling back as wave after wave of pleasure rocked her again and again. She clenched around him tighter as her body rode the crest, swelling and dipping with tides they created, pushing him closer to the brink of his own release. She then felt him tremble, absorbing a guttural cry into her mouth as his body shook soundly and his pace accelerated. He grunted once and broke into her, filling her in a different way, his kiss demanding as he met her thrust for thrust.

His pace began to slow, easing to a stop, and he propped himself on his elbows as they both sought to steady their breathing. Skin fused to skin refused to let go, and they held each other fast in the aftermath of this coupling, words held back as noses touched. The utmost tenderness with which he kissed her brow made her body ripple yet again, her fingers lacing through his hair as she cemented this new claim they had staked on each other.

They stared at each other in a new light, smiling as so much had been given, flush with the knowledge of so much more.

"Well," she mused, the depth of her tone as silken as her skin. "That was unexpected."

His chuckle tickled her rib cage, and he feathered a kiss across lips still swollen. "It most certainly was."

A flash of lightening cut through their conversation, and they both cast a glance towards the window, as fingers continued to map new terrain.

"It would seem the storm is just getting started," he observed, rolling gently beside her as she snuggled into his side.

"And just what are you implying?" she posed, still somewhat breathless from what had just transpired.

"Nothing at all," he grinned, pulling her closer as he toyed with a tendril of her hair. "Although it would be senseless for you to attempt to brave the elements when things are so nice and cozy here."

"And you tried to convince me earlier that you didn't mean anything untoward when you suggested we come here," she stated, tracing a pattern on his chest.

"I didn't," he maintained, his eyes boring into her. "But who am I to stand in the way of progress?"


End file.

Downton Abbey, Romance