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a late fill for [livejournal.com profile] oxoniensis's Porn Battle XII

prompt: Septimus Hodge/Thomasina Coverley, dancing

I Could Have Danced All Night | NC-17 | 579 words | complete

When Thomasina asks him to dance, Septimus knows he should say no. He knows his duties as her tutor and one of her role models create a barrier he cannot cross, no matter how informal their usual interactions. But he thinks of her pale skin and her soft-looking hair and her beautiful mind and he holds out his hand. He holds her a little closer than propriety dictates, but he teaches her the steps, and then they are gliding around the room, a little out of time to the music in Septimus's head, but perfectly in time to each other.

And then he realizes how this must look and he stops, Thomasina still held close in his arms. He drops their raised hands and makes to move away but Thomasina stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his mouth. It is inexpert, and all the more perfect for that. Septimus forces himself to pull away. "We cannot," he says softly.

"But I wish it," Thomasina says. "It is a decision I am as much involved in as you, if not more so, as I am the partner with less experience. But that will not dissuade me."

Septimus looks at her, brilliant and so very young, and then presses a kiss to her mouth. She is an excellent pupil in this as well, following his lead and then making up steps of her own. He realizes they are still moving, and soon he finds that he is pressing Thomasina against the edge of the table. He wants to teach her...everything, but he knows he cannot.

"I believe this is the point when the embrace becomes more carnal," Thomasina says softly, and Septimus starts. "I do read, Septimus."

Septimus knows he has never been the kind of man who can say no to his impulses, but he knows of a way to have what they both want without doing something Thomasina may later regret. He lifts her and places her on the edge of the table, then kneels between her legs. He pushes her nightgown up, running his hands over her slender, pale legs. He pushes the fabric up to her waist, and she tries to close her knees, blushing brightly. "Trust me," Septimus says, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, and she relaxes slightly.

"Always, Septimus," Thomasina says, and it warms a part of Septimus that has nothing to do with the nubile and willing body in front of him.

Focusing on the task at hand, Septimus continues to press kisses to the insides of her knees and thighs, persuading her to relax. She tenses again as he comes closer to her center, but he massages the smooth skin of her thighs to calm her. Then he presses his mouth to the small nub, nestled under the curling thatch of hair, and she gasps. He smiles.

He uses only his lips and tongue on her, tracing her lips, nibbling along the delicate skin until it is pink and firm with her arousal. Then he adds his fingers, and while he does not breach her, soon she is crying out softly, her legs tightening around his shoulders. He continues to touch her gently until she places her fingers on his head. He looks up at her, glad to see that she is smiling, soft and sleepy.

"Go to sleep, Thomasina," he says, standing up and helping her down. "Remember to put out your candle."

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