Although Harold had been eager to follow his wife upstairs and immediately set about making good on his earlier promises, he'd reluctantly acknowledged Marian's suggestion that a hot bath would probably do wonders for both of them. The librarian's light laughter and promise that they would resume their earlier conversation once they'd both cleaned up a bit helped lessen the sting, and so he graciously agreed and sighed wistfully as she made her way down the corridor and disappeared into their washroom.

He was more inclined to agree cheerfully when the door down the hall reopened and Marian peeped out at him, her bare leg visible through the open doorway, and slyly invited him to join her. Harold hadn't known he could move as fast as he did, but moments later, his clothes lay discarded on the chilly tiles of the washroom floor and his arms were wrapping around his wife's delicious curves as he sank into the washtub behind her.

"If this is how my baths had been as a youngster, I don't think I would've put up such a fight," Harold murmured before placing several soft kisses against Marian's neck while she leisurely ran a washcloth over her arms.

"Harold Hill!" Marian admonished in a scandalized voice.

The music professor merely chuckled and tightened his arms around his wife. "Say what you want, Madam Librarian, but you are a definite improvement to the bathing process."

He smiled as Marian tilted her head and gazed at him. "You're incorrigible, Professor Hill."

"And you smell wonderful, Mrs. Hill," he breathed, planting another kiss on her collarbone. "Lavender certainly becomes you." He reached forward and took the soapy cloth from his wife. "May I?"

Marian grew still in his arms, but rather than say anything to diffuse the suddenly tense moment, Harold remained silent. Last night had been an evening of firsts for the both of them, what with their behavior in the library, and Marian had chosen to continue that phenomenon with her sultry invitation for him to join her in the bath. Although Harold knew her forwardness stemmed from the previous evening's events, he wasn't noble enough to decline her request, even though he had a feeling she might have second thoughts once she realized just what'd she asked her music professor. And now, Harold knew it was all sinking in. Their passionate encounter in Madison Public Library. The teasing exchange downstairs in the hallway. His presence in her bath. All were perfectly acceptable liaisons between a husband and wife, but Harold knew Marian was still adjusting to certain ideas, and as such, tended to hold tightly to the Victorian sensibilities that had seen her responsibly navigate through many a charged moment before they had been married.

Deciding his wife might need a little encouragement to overcome those final reservations, Harold brought the warm cloth to the flat plane of her stomach and began to draw lazy circles, slowly working his way back and forth with gentle motions. Her soft sighs brought a smile to his face and she slowly relaxed in his arms, prompting Harold to continue his ministrations, tenderly stroking her smooth skin as he worked his way higher. When his hands found their way to the soft curves of her breasts, the cloth fluttered to the warm water below and Marian leaned back against his chest, her lips parting on a sigh as her hands rose to settle on his upper arms.

"Harold…" she whispered, her eyes drifting shut.

The music professor's smile turned smug as he brought his lips to his wife's ear. "Yes, my dear?"

But Marian didn't reply. Instead, she tilted her head to the side, as if in silent request. Harold was happy to comply, lowering his lips to her smooth skin and placing eager kisses there. His palms slid upward to cup his wife's soft breasts, and he began to tease her while his tongue traced gentle patterns on her neckline.

They stayed that way for quite some time, the silence of the room occasionally punctuated by the sound of Harold's wet kisses and Marian's low moans as Harold's warm hands glided back and forth across his wife's slick skin. But as Marian's moans grew louder, Harold felt himself begin to respond, as well. There was something wholly erotic about caressing a lover's naked body while submerged beneath water, and although this was their first shared bathing encounter, Harold made a mental note to ensure it wouldn't be the last. He was toying with the idea of suggesting this, when he felt Marian's hand cover his own and remove it from her breast.

Uncertain as to why Marian would put a halt to their delightful tryst, Harold was about to protest, but the words died in his throat when he felt Marian place his hand between her legs and then whisper his name in a pleading tone. Instinctively, Harold began to explore his wife's soft folds, even though he knew this wasn't the most ideal of settings for giving her such pleasure; nevertheless, Marian seemed to derive more than enough enjoyment from the gliding movements of his fingers. Her low moans made his body tighten, and when his thumb happened to circle a particularly sensitive area, and she lifted her hips in response to his caress, crying out his name, Harold felt his erection begin to throb.

Marian Paroo Hill might still carry the vestiges of her Victorian upbringing, but when she surrendered to passion, she did so wholeheartedly. Harold had learned that lesson shortly into their honeymoon. And he was just as pleased with that discovery now as he was then.

Nibbling his way back to her collarbone, Harold sank his teeth into the soft skin there and smiled when Marian gasped and reached for his hand again, this time maneuvering it until his fingers were flush against her entrance beneath the water's surface. He grinned when his wife began to wiggle against him, and Marian moaned when her movements caused one of his fingers to slowly work its way inside her; however, Harold, too well-versed in the ways of the world to let things go any further than they already had, gently removed his hand.

"Darling," he murmured, "not here. Not like this. Water isn't the most satisfying. Trust me," he assured her when she glanced questioningly at him. Placing his hands along the sides of the tub, Harold pushed himself up and carefully extracted his lean form from their embrace before extending his hand to Marian to help her out of the tub along with him. When they were both safely standing on the tile floor, Harold started to reach for a nearby towel, but paused in his motion as his gaze fully settled on his alluring wife. Although the majority of her hair was still piled atop her head in her usual chignon, a few strands had escaped and now charmingly framed Marian's face. While her hair remained untouched by bathwater, the rest of her was glistening in the lamp light; water droplets cascaded down his wife's body, pooling into rivulets at her feet. Harold stared, mesmerized. He had the maddening desire to run his tongue along the curve of her hip and remove the droplets of water that had settled there, and it took him a moment before he realized he could do just that.

Lowering himself to the now-wet tiles, Harold leaned forward and began kissing his way across her stomach. Like an avid explorer, he faithfully followed the trail lower and was soon rewarded with a throaty sigh when his tongue languidly grazed the slickness between his wife's legs. His hands slid up along the back of her thighs and grasped her backside as his mouth eagerly explored the wetness that had nothing to do with the water in which they had just been lying. He felt Marian's fingers slide through his disheveled hair, and then she was tugging him toward her. Drawing her close, Harold increased the tempo of his teasing, allowing his tongue to dart in and out of her before fully covering her with his mouth. Marian was writhing against him now, and Harold reveled in the sensation of her most intimate areas pressed against his lips as her pleading moans echoed against the walls.

It was not the first time Harold had made love to Marian this way, but their explorations in this arena had been limited and never pursued when Marian was upright and straddling him. To be honest, Harold found the novelty of it rather thrilling. And judging from the delighted sounds emanating above him, so did his wife. If he wasn't careful, he might bring her to climax before they made it to their bedroom.

The music professor had to admit the idea was an intriguing one, as evidenced by the constant twitching from below his waist. But if he was entirely honest with himself, he knew it was a bit too sordid for his librarian wife's sensibilities. At least, it was right now. Perhaps as they explored more avenues of lovemaking, it might be something they could pursue, but considering he had only just recently introduced her to this particular kind of lovemaking, Harold thought it best to wait. Reluctantly pulling away, he stood and took his wife by the hand, disregarding the nearby towels. He couldn't wait any longer. He needed to make love to Marian. If they got the sheets wet, so be it.

XXX

Normally, Harold prided himself on his ability to draw out the moment until the room was practically humming with excitement. But tonight, he found that he had possessed no such restraint. Marian's gasp of surprise echoed in the room when he swept her into his arms, but then his mouth was covering hers and she was eagerly responding to his kiss as Harold navigated his way down the hall and to their bedroom.

A sensible man would have pulled back the thick comforter and placed his wife on the smooth sheets below, but Harold had abandoned such rational thought the moment he'd slid down into the warm water behind Marian.

The librarian gasped when her body came into contact with the cool material, and Harold smiled in return. "Cold?"

"A little," she giggled.

"I think I can help with that," he grinned and lowered his body across hers, delighting in the feel of her damp skin. Harold's excitement increased even more when Marian moved beneath him and spread her legs until his hardness was insistently pressing against her. His eyes slid shut and he had to bite his lower lip to stifle a groan. He wasn't sure when his wife had learned that little trick, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about it.

"My God, Marian," he gasped and opened his eyes to gaze at her smug expression. Harold saw his wife's lips contort into a frown of disapproval, but before she could say anything, he pressed forward until, at last, he was inside her. All thoughts of protesting clearly obliterated, Marian smiled once more, and her eyes fluttered shut as he began to move in and out of her, adopting a slow and unhurried tempo.

When Harold lowered his head and traced his mouth along the librarian's breast, her hands found their way to his hair and began to wreak havoc on his curls. He groaned and began gently nipping at the sensitive flesh beneath his lips. Ridiculously pleased to hear the cries of delight this elicited, the music professor made a note to incorporate this more often in their lovemaking.

Marian had certainly come a long way since their first evening together in Des Moines only a few weeks ago. That night, she'd been shy and uncertain. Tonight, she showed no such hesitancy. Indeed, as Harold began to increase his pace, she arched her back and met her hips to his, her breathless moans and throaty cries urging him on.

Harold didn't know how much longer he could last at this pace. After bringing things to a halt last night, he had spent the remainder of the evening in a state of perpetual arousal as he repeatedly imagined Marian atop him, hands splayed across his chest, hair cascading across her bare shoulders as she drove the pace of their lovemaking. That particular position was something they'd not yet attempted in their fledgling marriage, but it was an idea that set his pulse racing. Harold had refrained from introducing Marian to anything other than traditional lovemaking, thinking it best they explore things slowly lest he shock his inexperienced wife. But if her actions in the library last night and their bathtub and bedroom tonight were any indication, his darling wife was indeed ready to try something new, and Harold was eager to oblige her.

Fervently hoping he hadn't misread the situation, the music professor swiftly rolled them over, until Marian sat precariously atop him. His wife's startled eyes met his, but Harold merely grinned and positioned her so that she straddled his thighs, albeit a bit awkwardly.

"Harold…" she began, but then trailed off. She glanced down and then quickly looked away, a dark blush suffusing her cheeks. When her eyes found his again, Harold could see the uncertainty there… but he could also see her excitement.

"Trust me, Marian?" he whispered, running a hand along her bare thigh.

She nodded, but didn't meet his eyes. Hoping his wife merely needed a little encouragement, Harold fitted his hands firmly on her hips and began to slowly thrust upward, his eyes sliding shut as he felt Marian close around him again. He experimented a few times with this new motion before opening his eyes to gauge Marian's reaction.

She was watching him with half-lidded eyes, her mouth open on a silent gasp of pleasure as he slid inside her once more. When he thrust a bit harder than before, Marian's eyes momentarily widened before a new awareness began to slowly dawn in them. Biting her lower lips, she gazed at him nervously and then gave an experimental wiggle. Harold responded with a low moan and tightened his grip on her hips.

"Does that feel… good?" she whispered shyly, her cheeks crimsoning as she looked away from him.

Harold couldn't find his voice. Instead, he simply nodded and lifted his hips again. When Marian responded with another wiggle, he groaned again and slid a hand down to gently caress his wife's slick skin. Apparently, this was all the encouragement his little librarian needed, because without further ado, she began to move against him, experimenting with her movements until she found a pace that satisfied the both of them. Soon, they were both gasping with pleasure, and Harold stared, mesmerized as his wife set the tone of their lovemaking for the first time. Before their marriage, he'd spent many a night in this bed fantasizing about this very thing: watching Marian astride him, her head thrown back and lips opening and closing around little gasps of ecstasy; his hands covering her soft breasts, his lips whispering heated desires as she discovered another facet of their passion; feeling her contract around him as she found release. All had helped him find his own much-needed release, but nothing in his wildest fantasies could begin to compare to the reality of seeing her above him tonight.

Indeed, when Marian finally let out a wordless moan and began to shudder, her hands clenching around his thighs, Harold thought he might lose his mind. Abandoning any pretense of control, he grasped Marian's hips and thrust into her at a fiercely ardent pace as she contracted around him until, suddenly, he felt his own release overtake him. Groaning in sheer pleasure, Harold pressed into her one final time as his climax concluded, satisfaction washing over him in waves as Marian's blonde curls, now free from their exertions, tumbled across his chest when she buried her face in the crook of his neck and softly cooed his name. Her fingers absently stroked his damp skin, and Harold reveled in the sensation of her heart thudding against his chest. Wanting to prolong the moment, he tenderly ran his palm along his wife's spine, caressing her with languid strokes until Marian's breathing evened, and she lifted her head to gaze at him in dazed wonder.

Harold responded with a cheeky smile and leaned forward to capture her mouth in a slow kiss. When they finally parted, he gently rolled over until she was positioned alongside him. Wrapping his leg over hers, he pulled her close, reveling in the feel of her skin against his.

"I love you, Marian Paroo Hill," he whispered and ran a finger along her cheek.

Marian beamed at him and placed a soft kiss against his lips. "I love you, too, Harold."

They stayed blissfully ensconced in one another's embrace for several minutes afterward, hands gently caressing and exploring each other until Harold eventually leaned back and ruefully glanced at the clock.

"As much as I hate to say it, we should probably see to getting dressed. Even though I'm cancelling rehearsal this afternoon, I do have several things I need to attend to at the Emporium today."

In response, Marian gave him a seductive smile and reached down. Harold felt his heart skip a beat when her warm hand began to caress him as boldly as his fingers had teased her in the bathtub earlier.

"Why, Marian!" Harold exclaimed in surprised delight.

Marian let out a throaty laugh and nestled closer to him. "Perhaps the Emporium business can wait until tomorrow, Professor Hill? After all, the streets are still covered with several feet of snow, and it wouldn't do for you to catch a cold…"

Never a man to argue with a beautiful woman, especially when that woman happened to be his charming wife, Harold merely nodded in wordless acquiescence and lowered his hand to return the favor. As his mouth met hers in an ardent kiss and he once again reveled in the beguiling warmth of her body against his, Harold reflected that Marian was right. The Emporium could definitely wait until tomorrow.