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[noburden]

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[rosarianoath]

"I'm touched," he says. "Thank you."

He clasps her hand back to his chest, his gaze warm.

"It's funny, but I had the same thought to get you something at that market. It's sat in my closet all this time, in the same house."

[noburden]

"Really?" It's her turn to be surprised. "I was awful to you."

Some of it she considers justified, and she was right to be hurt, but she didn't need to be cruel.

But she smiles a little wider as she leans in closer.

"What is it?"

[rosarianoath]

He elects to brush by the first comment. No need to retread that territory.

“I’d sooner show you than tell you, but then I’d have to leave this bed.”

[noburden]

"Ah, but now I'm distracted. Dinner, a surprise... and now I know there's a gift. My body may be here, but my mind is in your closet." She laughs, leaning in more to press her face to his shoulder.

"But I don't want you to go."

[rosarianoath]

He chuckles and puts his arm around her.

“Should I take your mind off it, then?” he says, his hand drifting along her thigh.

[noburden]

"You're welcome to try," she tells him, lifting her head to look at him with a smile. "Just know that I am very curious."

[rosarianoath]

“Relentlessly so,” he says, catching her in a brief, hard kiss as he loops an arm around her shoulder and tips her backwards.

[noburden]

She goes with an amused sound, reaching up to touch his face. She adores him. It's so wonderful to be around him and not actively hurt because of it.

"I have never been more glad to be who I am."

[rosarianoath]

He tips with her, staying close to her, nose-to-nose as he slides both hands to her hips.

“I’m glad for you, then,” he says. “You’ve earned every minute of joy.”

[noburden]

Her arms slide around him.

"Are you happy to be who you are right now, Clive? Or would you prefer to be in someone else's body for an hour?"

She would not recommend the experience.

[rosarianoath]

He lets her hold him, his chest brushing hers.

“I might like the perspective, looking out of someone else’s eyes,” he murmurs, “but it depends on whose.”

One hand sneaks between her thighs, cupping her boldly.

[noburden]

Jill looks ready to reply, but his touch interrupts her with a small gasp. She rewards him with a soft smile and her fingers in the back of his hair.

"I'm very glad you're you, Clive."

[rosarianoath]

“Who else would I be?” he murmurs, stroking her gently with two fingers.

[noburden]

"No one I love as much as I love Clive Rosfield," she says easily, fingers combing through his hair as she sighs, comfortable beneath him.

[rosarianoath]

He hums at her, fingers working up and down her slit, slow but firm. His gaze doesn’t leave her for an instant.

“Then I’m glad to be him.”

[noburden]

She smiles up at him, resisting the urge to squirm.

"Glad enough to give me a hint about gift or surprise?"

A girl can try.

[rosarianoath]

He raises his brows at her, amused.

“It’s small enough to fit in my pocket,” he says, a fingertip tracing a ring around her entrance.

[noburden]

"You speak of the gift, surely," she says, smile widening a little as her thighs part further for him. "What could be so small as to fit in your pocket...?"

[rosarianoath]

“Imagine if I could tuck a whole excursion into my pocket,” he says, sliding his fingertip back and around her clit. “I do speak of the gift.”

[noburden]

She laughs, both at his remark and the shiver of pleasure that travels up her spine.

"And now I know my surprise is an excursion. Now I am even more curious."

[rosarianoath]

He just smiles, catching her lips briefly in an open-mouthed kiss. Then he murmurs, abruptly stopping with his finger poised over her clit.

“Will you continue to guess?”

[noburden]

Her mouth leaves his with a groan. Cruel of him to stop.

"Would you like me to?"

[rosarianoath]

“It might leave you wanting, if you cannot guess.”

[noburden]

"I'm already wanting," she huffs, still smiling. "I am doomed to suffer, regardless."

[rosarianoath]

“We can’t have that,” he says, a shred of humour on his tone. He eases himself to lay down beside her, tight to the side of her body, cradling her with his own. His hand stays where it is, fingering her, playing with her gently. This way, they can talk. He can look at her, real close, the fondness on his face unmistakable. “But I suppose this is the kind of suffering to have, if one must suffer at all.”