She sat up straighter, and gave him a rather haughty look. "Yes, but you can't just go from 'let's sit by the fire' to 'hands up the skirt,' in one go like that," she admonished. She smirked for a moment. "Not without a very good reason."

"That you're gorgeous, and you look even more so by firelight? That my every other thought's been of you ever since we parted last night" He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, then moved them down over her breast, as he had next to no idea how to begin breaking into her bodice. "You left me a wreck. Every time I've had a spare minute to myself I've been hearing you moaning in the back of my head."

"Oh," Goneril said softly, quiet for a moment. She ran her fingers over his cheek, roughly brushing them through his hair. "Here," she said, lifting his face back up to hers to kiss him again. "I want to do something different this time."

His eyebrows lifted. He ran a finger down her cheek. "Oh? Anything in particular, or just different?"

She wriggled off his lap, tugging her skirts back, and turned so that her back was facing him. She pulled her hair up, away from her neck. "Unhook me," she said. "It's easier for another person to do it."

It took an embarrassingly long time to undo the hooks: half figuring out how they went together, and half drawing back, laughing, in surprise to find that they were metal underneath. "Did whoever put you into this intend for you to get out?" Once her back was bare, he ran his fingers, appreciatively, down the line of her spine, then leaned forward to plant a small kiss at the nape of her neck.

"I think that is more or less the idea," Goneril answered, sighing at the touch of his lips. "Now," she said, her chin quivering a moment before she slid the dress off her shoulders, and wriggled it down to her hips.

His fingers shook as he brushed the hair back from her shoulders. "You are lovely," he said, gently. "Now . . . what?"

When she blushed, the color crept along her shoulders. "Apart from the fact that I'm really one third over again this size," she reminded him. "Do you think it would be all right if I took off my skirt? I can put it back on again, but I wanted to let you see me and not just be fumbling blind under clothing. So you could take the memory with you when you leave."

He hesitated again. Suddenly, he pushed himself back up to his feet, then reached down to draw her along with him. "I don't know how 'all right' it would be," he said seriously. "But I think . . . it's not that I wouldn't like you to, mind," he said, teasing. "I think we're going to have to be cautious with each other. That's all." He began to undo his own belt.