Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story, that privilege belongs to her highness, Jane Austen!

As she tried to will herself into sleep in vain again, Anne sighed into her duvet, reviving the sight of Frederick's wind-beaten, tanned face and how the gusts of salty air swept his coat against his body. She felt the knot in her stomach twist and make her shiver when she thought of his admiring gaze sweeping over her. But she scrunched her eyes the next moment as she recalled kissing him where his collarbones met and looking up into his smiling hazel eyes. The taste of his mouth when she surprised him with a kiss. His laughter echoed in her ears like a thunderclap.

Involuntarily, she found her hand caressing her folds and her fingers making hurried motions over her aroused bud of nerves, making her tremble. She tried to think of what she'd do if she ever again encountered him in a room alone. In her reverie, she looked over every inch of him, trying to confirm the changes in him she had perceived with fleeting glances. The newly broadened shoulders, his muscular thighs, how a wayward lock of his hair fell into his eyes. His usually warm, smiling eyes now burned her with his gaze, full of reproach that chilled her to the bones. Her legs barely contained the urge to run and she walked up to him instead, reaching for his hand. She cherished the jolt through their nerves and felt the roughened skin of his palm as she held it up to her cheek and kissed it softly. It was absurd not to reach up and run her fingers over his beautiful cheekbones and lose them in his hair. His chest reverberated with a deep groan as she nipped at his delicious lower lip. Her hands inched up his back, her mouth whispered how much she'd missed him while kissing his neck and sucking his earlobe gently between her lips. The liberty of losing her tongue in his ear was taken, while her hand caressed his burgeoning arousal. Frederick cursed and gripped her shoulders; his eyes angry and yet full of want. He pulled her against him and bruised her lips with his, delving into her sweet mouth with his tongue.

One hand moved faster against her center and the other pinched a sensitive nipple between two fingers as she thought of him bunching up her dress around her hips and pulling her thighs up around him so that her feet left the ground and her bottom landed on the writing desk behind her. She longed to wrap her legs around his hips and squeeze against him. His imploring eyes waited for her hurried nod before untying the laces of her bodice and claiming a nipple between his teeth. He bent her backwards to lie down on the desk. Anne undid his breeches and intensified the pace of her strokes. He groaned against her breast, his hands leaving bruises even as he took in the sight of her trembling, naked body under the dappled light from the chandelier overhead. Breathless, he kissed her and slipped his fingers into her dripping core, just as hers did now.

She cried out at his touch and her muscles convulsed, helpless. She stroked him faster and imagined him twisting his fingers inside her like he did and rubbing a sensitive spot that'd make her see stars. She reached up and kissed his mouth hard, biting his lower lip and drawing blood. Abruptly, he removed her hands from him and held them against her sides. 'Must you do this to me?' He half-screamed and half-hissed at her, his lips barely inches from hers and his arousal rubbing against her swollen folds. His mouth was taut with fury even as his eyes narrowed with passion. "I've pined for you every night, Anne.", he whispered. "I've wanted to kiss that mouth of yours and make you cry out my name as I make love to you."

Anne's fingers thrust furiously into her. She thought of escaping his arms and biting his lower lip again, but he would not allow it. "I've pined for you too", she gasped, "I've relived how you feel within me a thousand times, Frederick.' His eyes afire, he entered her in one swift motion as she pulled his torso onto hers, delighting in the sensation of his hips slapping against hers. She laughed with unadulterated joy into his kiss, and wanted to memorialize again how perfectly they fit. Her surprise as his teeth grazed her neck. The familiar, warm expanse of his torso, her fingers rediscovering the features she had known so intimately once. 'Oh yes, Anne!', he sighed and increased his pace and covered her mouth with his. She pushed against his chest for a second, before placing her legs on his shoulders. He looked upon her in wonder and his thrusts grew deeper. She pushed up against him as his fingers stroked her and made her clench furiously around him. Feeling his and her peak approaching even as she reached it presently, she held her illusion close to her as her back arched. She recalled feeling him erupt deep inside her as he released her legs and her pulse attempted to slow down. Her fingers traced his lower lip as he looked down upon her, spent. She saw his elated face as she remembered it, but his lips stayed silent. Dread filled her as his eyes slowly lost all their joy until he looked at her indifferently, as if he no longer recognized her. 'No!', she whispered to the darkness.

Anne felt her eyes moisten as his touch and his scent faded away. She clutched desperately at the pleats of the duvet, willing them to be the folds of his jacket. Their time apart had almost convinced her that she'd forgotten the effect he had on her, but he'd only had to hold her waist and help her into Lady Croft's carriage to agitate her body and vex her nights ever since.

She remembered how loved she was when in his warm embrace, his cheek pressed to hers and his hand in her hair as they waltzed slowly to an arbitrary tune he had just made up. She would never hold or love him again, for he might soon be Louisa's. Her heart broke anew and she indignantly steeled herself against the sobs that racked her body. Breathing deeply, she bid herself to find her happiness in his contentment. As exhaustion finally made her begin drifting to sleep, she reasoned to herself that though the memory of all that they'd shared was a perpetual cause of agony to her, it was also her only source of hope against hope. Her final cognition before falling asleep was how he had beheld her at the pebbled beach this morning while she'd breathed in the sea air and beamed at the waves lapping at her bare feet.

A few yards away, Frederick thrashed around in his sleep, trying to grasp at the memory of Anne's cheek against his as it slipped away from him, yet again.