A/N: Thank you everybody for reviewing, following, favoriting, liking and reblogging - I cannot tell you how much it means to me. A special thank you to the guest reviewer who reminded me to 'up' the rating - it's been done! Also thank you revfrog/nanniships and batwings79 for much needed information and advice and onmyside: thank you for the read-through.

I apologise for not making the deadline I had set for myself - this chapter didn't want to be written. I do hope that it lives up to expectations and thank you all again for your wonderful support.

previously:

"Oh…" she whimpers when he opens her up tenderly. She grasps the sheet in her fists when he kisses her low on her belly. His finger slides over her, making her let out another whimper. Her breathing sounds loudly in the room when he keeps touching her and she clenches the sheets tightly. She bites her lip when he lets his finger enter her and bites down harder when he slowly - slowly, carefully - adds another one after a while.

Her breath comes in shallow gasps accompanied by quiet whimpers. Her eyes flutter closed each time she looks at the man who is making her body tingle. He kisses her neck and his fingertips ghost over the inside of her elbow while he steadily keeps up the pace of his other hand. She grasps the sheet in a tightly clenched fist as her blood courses through her veins. Her shoulders dig into the mattress as she trembles with something she's never felt before.

"Charles… Charles! Stop -" she says, her voice deep and he immediately stills and he looks so worried, a tear spills onto her cheek.

"Have I hurt you?" he asks and she shakes her head slowly.

"No, no, not at all. I just… I don't know… it's all a bit much and I want…"

He looks at her expectantly. "Yes?"

She doesn't quite know what it is that she wants and she shrugs a little. She feels so warm, but the cool air makes her shiver nonetheless. Charles is tracing a path from freckle to freckle on her thigh with his pinky.

"I love you," he suddenly says and she lets out a hushed laugh.

"I love you, too," she answers and the words make her indescribably happy, so happy she pulls him up, his bulk hovering over her and she kisses him - hard.

He reciprocates hungrily and she presses herself against him. His knee is between hers until he shifts and lowers himself. She lets her legs fall to the side and there he is, pushing against her… there.

"Yes," she whispers in his ear and he props himself up, looks her in the eye.

"Yes?"

She nods, a tiny smile dancing around her lips. A smile that vanishes slowly as he rocks her back and forth, and moves carefully, tiny bit by tiny bit, until they've come together as one - fitting like two pieces of a puzzle.

"Alright?" he asks.

"I think so…" she answers and she puts her arms around his neck.

She experimentally tilts her hips and watches in utter fascination how her husband squeezes his eyes shut. He lets out a sounds she's never heard anyone make before.

So she tries it again.

And again.

And he moves with her, in counterpoint at times. Together they find a rhythm and she is surprised by how nice it all feels. The broad body of her husband covering her own, the scent of him, the delightful wonder of his skin against hers. The way they move so instinctively. It's joy.

With my body I thee worship.

Figuring out how they fit together almost perfectly is thrilling. The change in sensation when she lowers her knee or when she holds on to his upper arm. The sound of her own gasps drowns out the creaking of the bed. The sheets are all rumpled under them; the blankets have slid to the side. A drop of perspiration falls from Charles's forehead on her breast and she reaches up to wipe his brow.

They don't smile at each other as they stare into each other's eyes, trying to hold on until he spurs her on, moves her so her head falls back and she can't keep her eyes open, a plaintive moan coming from somewhere deep within and Charles doesn't stop moving.

He is speeding up his movements and they're not as fluid as before, not as steady. She closes her eyes again, focuses on how she's feeling (warm, excited, happy) and what she's feeling (skin on skin, slick and hot; motions that make her feel like she's almost flying.) She holds on to her husband, as she starts to curl her toes quite involuntarily.

Then he whispers to her - her name slips so easily from his lips - and he stills, shudders and sighs.

Gathered up in his arms - her thighs slightly sore and sticky - she feels intensely happy. Her cheek and ear are on his chest and she can hear his heartbeat slow down and steady. Her breath has already evened out and she can feel him drifting off to sleep.

She knows she won't be able to sleep. Not yet. Her body is still tingling with pent up energy and her mind is racing with all the worries that have been laid to rest but haven't yet been filed away.

There was nothing absurd about any of it, she thinks and she kisses Charles's shoulder. He burrows down under the covers and pulls her infinitely closer.

"I'm sorry you haven't…" he mumbles.

"I haven't… what?" she asks, the drowsiness evident in his voice makes her love him even more in that moment - though she never thought that would be possible.

"Nothing…" He yawns and snakes his arm around her shoulder. "I'll show you tomorrow…"

"Charles, it's going on ten in the morning," she chuckles a bit and then blushes brightly at how her words might be interpreted.

"Then I'll show you this afternoon. Right now… I think… I'd rather…" He yawns again, three times in-between his words.

"Yes… you sleep, my love," she says and pushes herself up and away from him.

"Where are you going?" he asks, suddenly alert.

"Bathroom," she says and grabs one of the sheets that has fallen on the floor and wraps it around herself.

"You're beautiful," he says and she looks at him over her shoulder.

"Thank you."

"And I will show you what I meant later this afternoon," he promises.

Which he did.

And for which Elsie was eternally grateful.