A/N: When in doubt, just keep on writing lemony romance. Profuse thanks to (and I'm in awe of) my beta, Giulietta C.


Very well, Sam thought. My husband has decided to torment me.

Christopher tenderly pushed her shoulders towards the curved armrest of the settee until she was half-reclined along it, then shifted his hips from beneath her so that he could lean over her, pinning her wrists at each side of her head. With maddening deliberateness he kissed and nipped behind and beneath her ear ("Oh, dear God," she murmured somewhat godlessly) along her downy neck, her collarbone... He lifted his head with a sigh and lightly tugged her earlobe with his lips. It was only with him that Sam had ever felt that tantalising gush of moisture within... hot, delicious, making her aware of what she needed most...

"Christopher..." She writhed beneath him, pressing her body up into his, and moaned with unrestrained longing, "Please!"

He kissed her deeply, his tongue flirting with hers as she struggled to keep up. She pushed back just enough to force him to release her arms, then gave just one more valiant attempt to persuade him to increase the pace NOW as one newly freed hand sneaked to the front of his trousers. She grasped him through the fabric and was rewarded with her favourite sound in all the world, a deeply sensual groan of approval from his chest. For such a quiet man he made a multitude of beautiful sounds when he was making love, and she found each one thrilling. Still he paused and gazed into her eyes with his sweet, calm blue.

"Don't you miss..." His crisp, confidential half-whisper, and his hand firmly caressing the back of her neck, made Sam pant involuntarily… "Don't you miss when we had to hold back, and it would make us take things so slowly... ?"

Samantha took as deep a breath as she could, struggling to restrain herself. "I... well, I suppose... Christopher!" Her tone was solidly impatient as she squirmed in pleasurable agony again.

She felt his head shaking slightly next to hers.

Is he laughing? she wondered, not quite sure whether she were cross, or about to giggle in her own right.

He murmured in her ear, "Try? For me?"

Sam would do anything for him, just so long as he let her test her wings from time to time.

Her breath danced softly about his face as she kissed his temple and then his cheek. Gentlest kisses feathered over each spread of lines beside each eye. With her lips she grasped an eyelid and delighted in his chuckle at the sensation of his lid softly pinched upward; then she nibbled each lush eyelash and tugged and kissed each closed eye as if it were a little mouth.

Christopher shivered with pleasure at her languorous pace and the touches that afforded peaceful therapy and stimulation all at once.

She drew back to examine the expression of blissful satisfaction on his face, and smiled proudly. He cracked one eye open to see what she was up to, and his eyebrow quirked upward endearingly.

"Mmm, well done, Miss Stewart."

She wriggled again. "Is my patience to be rewarded, then?"

"Er... all in good time."

He began to echo her light kisses and nips upon her eyes and then moved back to her ear and neck, to just the spot he knew would elicit a long purr of contentment.

Happily resigned, Sam stretched beneath him, her arms winding around his neck as he nuzzled and caressed. When he drew back with a sinful glance and suddenly captured her mouth, she surprised him by slipping down further still, skirt hiking as she went, and wrapping her long legs about his hips.

They poured soft moans into each other's mouths and he resumed his unbuttoning of her shirt, but the feverish way they were now moving their lower bodies made each wonder if they would even get as far as shedding all their clothes this time.

Nonetheless, after another lovely round of teasing, Christopher got to his feet and divested himself of his shirt and trousers. By the time his fingers had reached the band of his shorts he was tightly pressed against a young woman who had stood and dropped her skirt and knickers in the same heartbeat.

Sam boldly reached for him through the slit of his undergarment, went up on tiptoe, and with an unabashed grunt of relief sank him up and into her.

"Oh, Sam," he exclaimed, wholly unprepared for the intensity of the sensation. "You are…"

His words gave way to a strangled moan as she elevated upward again and then slid down, clenching her internal muscles as she went.

Teasingly, she took her slow revenge, her heart fluttering at his lost look of alarm.

"It's only fair, Mr Foyle, that I should take my time."

He sighed deeply as he shut his eyes and let his head fall back, letting her set their pace. Things were soon putting some strain on his back, though, so he slipped out of her and led her towards their bed. He helped her out of her blouse and took her into his arms again.

Sam struggled to keep standing, but those kisses of his were so scorching that hanging onto his shoulders was the only thing preventing her from melting to the floor.

Christopher drew back from her all at once and the look in his eyes was both loving and lethal. Hers barely had time to widen before she had been turned around and drawn against him from behind. She couldn't help it; she began to tremble in anticipation; of what, she wasn't even quite sure. As they stood she could feel his hard arousal nudge her between her legs; he moved his hands smoothly from her arms to her breasts and then let one hand wander still further down.

She kept murmuring his name and a series of sweet oaths as his fingers stroked her and he ground his hips against her, his tongue probing her ear before he softly bit her neck. At her little cry he smiled and lightly, slowly passed a thumb back and forth over one nipple.

"Now you're taking your time again," she gasped, "and I know I'll go mad if you keep on…

In answer he tugged down the bed sheets and steered her onto the mattress, his fingertips pushing gently on her back, bending her forwards to her hands and knees. Sam felt a new and pleasant kind of wantonness in the safety of her husband's hands; and once again each new sensation was delicious.

When he braced her hips and entered her this time she felt as if she were being swept out to sea by a warm wave of desire; the different angle of this position brought her even clearer pleasure than before and she had to suppress a shrill cry of passion.

"Shhh," she heard just beside her ear as he held her in place and thrust in again, forceful and hard, but tender at the same time. His own struggle to remain quiet in his throes was all the more stimulating; he managed to keep the groan within his throat, but she sensed from his tremulous outward movement how barely under control he felt.

His chest curving over her back, he ran his fingers through her silken hair and moved it aside so that he could kiss her neck. "You thrill me, Sam. The most beautiful woman in the world is mine. You hold my beating heart between your hands, my darling."

Sam closed her eyes tightly, so overcome by emotion and ecstasy that her whole body dissolved into a sigh. Well… perhaps not all of her. She arched her back ever so slightly, nestling her face near his and subtly moving backward closer to him until he was even deeper inside her. In moments she was gripped with the transcendent shudders of her climax, and Christopher in turn was lost in the heaven of her snug warmth and love. With a startled cry he caved in to his own overwhelming release.


The afternoon light had given way to dark clouds by the time they fell into a slumber, a lovely weariness overtaking them after their exertions. Christopher was awakened suddenly by a rumble of thunder, and felt Sam stir lazily in his arms, murmuring something indistinct but irresistibly endearing. Though wryly thankful that the landlord had not yet been sufficiently attentive to knock and offer to build them a fire, he worried that the growing chill might render Sam uncomfortable while she was getting ready for dinner. If he tried to extricate himself from her tight embrace, however, he'd surely wake her. He nuzzled her hair.

"Samantha… love…"

She stretched like a cat, a long humming sound her only answer, but then surprised him by opening her sweet dark-brown eyes and looking steadily into his.

At the same time that her look was warm and openly adoring, it was full of wonder.

"Whatever did I do to deserve you?" she asked simply.

Foyle felt his heart leap in his chest. There was a part of him inclined to laugh at the absurdity of her question; another part winced at the painful notion that she might imagine herself undeserving in any way; and yet another part of him was predisposed to weep with gratitude.

He stroked back from her face some strands of her now-chaotic hair. So beautiful.

"Darling Sam, I could ask you the very same thing. This war doesn't give people what they deserve, but by some miraculous quirk of Fate, we've found each other. So let's honour that good fortune by creating as much happiness for each other as we can, for as long as we can."

Sam gave a soft, contented sigh, and of one accord they lay back down in each other's arms for a little while longer, as neither could bear to abandon a state so perfect.