For someone, who habitually bumps into people and walls, and hits his head at least once a day, Martin is incredibly graceful, carrying his precious load through the house, up the stairs, to the bedroom. He gently seats Louisa on the edge of the bed and slides to his knees in front of her in the process. He pauses then, waiting for her reaction.

"Oh, Martin," she exhales, leans toward him, and they are kissing again.

Very soon Louisa's blouse is off.

"Hmm," Martin cocks his head and glances at her laced bra.

"Is it… are you… Martin?" Louisa stutters, but stops as he slowly drags his fingers starting on her left clavicle, over the sternum, down her stomach to the top of her jeans. Then he looks up at her, "You are so beautiful…, so very beautiful." Louisa shivers, and he frowns, "Are you cold?"

"No, Martin," she pulls him closer and whispers in his ear, "No, I am not cold, but you are overdressed."

Martin's prominent ears turn bright red, and his stiff "yes" comes with a stiff nod. As Louisa reaches for his tie, he gets on his feet, so she is left to simply watch as he takes off and carefully hangs up his jacket and removes the shoes. He then puts the cufflinks and the tie on the nightstand, rolls up his shirt sleeves and returns to the bed, once again sliding to his knees in front of Louisa.

"That was a good start," she runs her hands over his shirt-clad chest and tries to undo a button, "but I think we can do better..."

Martin cocks his head to peer at her hands. He then gently takes a hold of them to stop her and goes for a long kiss. When Louisa is sufficiently distracted, he pushes her back lightly, so that she leans on her elbows and her bare, save for a flimsy bra, upper body is within an easy reach of his hands and his lips.

"May I?" Martin swallows while he waits for her stammered "yes." He nods stiffly once more, and proceeds, using his position to the fullest. He is very thorough and deliberate in his approach, starting with a long kiss and then moving slowly downwards, and his efforts keep Louisa quivering somewhere on the edge, between utter pleasure and frustration. However, when she tries to reciprocate or to urge him to hurry up, Martin carefully deters her.

By the time he makes his way to the top of Louisa's jeans and pauses, she almost growls at him, "I'll do it!"

Martin watches intently as her slightly shaking fingers struggle with the button and the zipper, but he does help her to pull of the jeans. When her finally bare legs are on his shoulders, he swallows hard and whispers, "May I?"

"Yes, Martin," Louisa falls on her back and adds softly, "and, please…, don't stop."

He doesn't. For the most part. Only from time to time, when Louisa arches away from his touch or makes yet another shrill sound, he glances up at her, "Alright?"

Martin does get rid of his shirt and pants. By then Louisa is barely coherent enough to hear him rasp, "May I?"…

They lie next to each other, tangled in bed covers, both sweaty and out of breath. Martin peers at Louisa, opens his mouth and closes it again.

"You are incredible," Louisa murmurs, as she pushes her messed up hair away from her damp face and beams at him.

"No, I am not," he responds quickly, shifting his gaze away from her. He deliberates for a moment, clears his throat, and then cautiously proceeds, "So, this was… I…." He stops and glances at her again.

Louisa giggles, "Oh, Martin, someone must have told you how amazing you were?" She playfully pecks him on the cheek, "I'll be right back." She gets up and walks out. She stops in the doorway and adds with a smile, "Don't move, I want my turn." Martin looks quizzically after her.

He stays as he is for a while, listening to the sounds of the shower, then gets up and starts collecting the items of his clothing around the room. Louisa comes back to find him standing by the bed, with an air of uncertainty about him, which he rarely displays. His pants are back on, but he holds his shirt, as if he isn't quite sure what to do with it.

"Trying to slink off?" Louisa asks with a small smile, and Martin only stares at her. She has put on a robe, but has forgone any underwear. And he can clearly see that.

"Hmm," that is all he can manage on the first go. He cocks his head, clears his throat, and tries again, "I…umm… you have… umm… school tomorrow, I… umm… have…" He doesn't get to finish the sentence. While he speaks, Louisa walks to him, takes the shirt out of his hand, and casually drops it. Martin watches it fall and crumple at his feet and winces. The next moment, however, his attention is fully back on Louisa, who plants a kiss somewhere in the middle of his bare chest and leads him back to bed.

"I told you I want my turn, Martin," she smiles.

"Erm, your turn?" he looks at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Instead of an explanation, Louisa proceeds with a comprehensive demonstration. Martin appears to be absolutely stunned at first. He lies there, still and rigid, staring at the spot on the ceiling right above his head and desperately trying not to breath too loudly. Little by little, Louisa manages to coerce him out of his stupor. Still, he keeps peering at her as if he is waiting for a sign that there is some kind of catch… As if he is trying to anticipate the steepness of the price for being allowed to have this experience…

Much later, as they lie in the dark, he seems uncomfortable holding Louisa, and yet he doesn't make any attempts to let go of her. Eventually, her breathing turns deep and even. Martin swallows, and whispers to the top of her head, tucked under his chin, "I love you. I love you, Louisa."

The third time they make love that night it is already, in fact, early morning. Afterwards, Louisa falls asleep again, but Martin stays awake. He spends an hour alternatively watching Louisa and staring at the ceiling. From time to time, he carefully moves her tousled hair, so he has a better view of her face.

At six, he slides out of the bed, taking every precaution not to wake Louisa. He makes a conscious effort not to look at her, while he puts his clothes on. He sits on the very edge of the bed to lace the shoes and adjust his tie…

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A/N Thank you for reading and reviewing.