A/N: So thank you very, very, very much to everyone who reviewed/favorited/just viewed the first time! Seriously I did not expect reviews, etc. to be so exciting since I'm not really a serious writer. I should be writing my final Philosophy paper but purely out of procrastination I wrote an entire chapter on what Frances was thinking the whole time. I also changed the end a little because I suck at endings and can't figure out what to do.

Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji and the characters belong to Yana Toboso - if I got ahold of them the plot would disappear.

Sebastian, diligent as ever, was working late into the night. He sat at the desk in his bedroom working on the household finances silently, content for the moment with the lack of interruptions from the other incompetent members of the staff. He was relaxed, outerwear hung over the back of a chair, leaving him in slacks and an ever-crisp button down.

He enjoyed his time alone late at night, when he could at least partially drop his human façade. It was pleasant to free his hands from his gloves every so often, and he rather liked the faint glow the contract had when it caught the light of the lamp.

He could also work much more quickly away from the gazes of the other denizens of the estate when he could read, calculate, and write far faster than even an intelligent human would be able to.

He was also free to mumble comments to himself at times, something he made sure he never did around others. He, like humans, had a propensity to slip back into a more familiar language when speaking to himself, and talking to oneself was not looked upon favorably in any case.

Sebastian's head perked up when he heard a door open. His acute hearing pinpointed it as coming from the guest quarters, where Marchioness Middleford and Lady Elizabeth were currently staying.

Light and slow footsteps informed him that the walker was sneaking about and wanted to avoid waking any others at all costs. Sebastian listened curiously as the footsteps began nearing his own part of the estate.

As they got closer (Why either of the ladies would be over here he had not a clue) he identified the person as the Marchioness. The gait and weight of the steps suited the lady's stature better than her daughter's.

Sebastian groaned internally, wondering if she had found something to complain about this late at night, although he couldn't imagine why she wouldn't either wait until morning or ring the service bell to inform him.

The steps stopped outside his door, and he turned back to his work so as to look engrossed in it. A normal human would not have heard her approaching, and it would be suspicious to stare at the door in anticipation.

He contemplated putting his gloves on, but decided that it would seem odd at this hour, and without them little attention would be given to his hands. The lamp was low enough to make any human's vision quite poor, though his sight was not materially affected.

Although he was staring at the papers in front of him, his attention was focused on the woman standing outside his door. She had paused for a bit, but now seemed to be reaching for the handle. Sebastian was surprised that a woman as proper as she was did not plan on knocking, though he supposed that visiting a male servant in his bedroom, especially at this hour, was already pushing any reasonable bounds of propriety.

Apparently coming to a decision, the hand on the knob turned it quickly, opening the door enough for Frances Middleford to step in swiftly and shut the door behind her just as fast. Sebastian turned to her in mock surprise, rising from his seat, as was proper, and giving a shallow dip of his head. "Do you require anything, Lady Middleford?" he asked rather pointlessly, as she obviously must have needed something to impel her to come to him.

The woman in front of him took a deep breath and looked him over. Sebastian faced her, a bit uncomfortable now that this woman had thrown his nightly routine off and pushed him into an unfamiliar situation. He noted idly that she had not even bothered throwing on a dressing gown, and was clad only in a modest but thin nightgown. He fought the urge to raise an eyebrow, instead allowing a fake smile to pull at the corners of his mouth as he waited for her to respond.

After a few moments she had still said nothing. She took another deep breath and then strode further into his room, directly towards him.

Sebastian almost stepped backwards, not out of intimidation, but simple confusion. Humans were generally quite predictable, but they gave him trouble when they acted strangely. Reacting to situations impulsively would in many situations lead to behavior that would be utterly strange for a human.

Still, his usually brilliant mind was drawing a blank when it came to the situation at hand. His mind told him to offer her water or perhaps some tea or warm milk to help her sleep. His instincts told him to offer services of a different nature, although they would certainly still help her sleep.

Internal struggle over, he instead took a step forward to meet her. "Would you like something warm to drink?" he asked politely, watching her face carefully. Sebastian fought to keep his expression neutral when she spoke. "Sit down," she said commandingly, gesturing not to his chair but to his bed. The butler did as ordered, sitting down and smoothing out the sheets compulsively.

Satisfied, the Marchioness walked closer, blew out the lamp, and continued walking until she was standing almost directly over Sebastian, who had put his hands behind him on the bed and leaned back slightly.

She promptly stepped forward and put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him backwards and simultaneously lifting her knees up and climbing on the bed over top of him. Although his strength was far superior to hers, Sebastian was too shocked to resist her push and landed softly on his back.

He looked up at her, quite surprised yet not embarrassed in the least at their positioning. "May I ask what you're doing, Lady Middleford?" he asked, this time allowing an eyebrow to quirk a tad impertinently. "Frances," she responded. "May I ask what you're doing, Frances?" he retorted, his tone slipping from polite to playful.

"I can't imagine a man with a face as pretty as yours has no inkling as to what I'm here for," she told him frankly while tracing a finger down the aforementioned 'pretty face'. He chuckled briefly before responding.

"I was just under the impression that you weren't particularly fond of me," he said, still smiling. "I'm not," she said, still frank. "I'm just feeling rather restless." "You've always seemed to be satisfied with your husband," he said suggestively. She smiled in return. "As a husband, yes. As a lover…" she shrugged, voice trailing off.

Sebastian briefly considered his course of action. He was quite certain that Ciel would forbid him from doing this if he knew about it. However, his master had not expressly forbid him from having such relationships with anyone.

He was also not quite sure how he could politely refuse the lady currently straddling him, and his baser instincts were telling him not to pass up the opportunity that had quite literally fallen into his lap.

Ultimately, he decided that Ciel would never have to know. The contract would always let him know if Ciel were to awaken, and his acute hearing would alert him to anyone approaching his door with more than enough time for him to make himself presentable and temporarily hide his partner in crime.

After making his decision, Sebastian focused on the task at hand. He allowed his naturally dominating personality to take over and neatly flipped the two of them over. He wasted no time with being slow or gentle. The woman wasn't here to be loved.

He leaned down and kissed her greedily. He quickly moved away from her lips. He nipped down her neck, careful to avoid drawing blood, the scent of which might make him a bit more feral than he wanted to be.

Deft hands unbuttoned her nightgown down to her navel. Sebastian pushed the fabric aside and descended upon her nicely sized breasts. He reflected that for a human she really was quite attractive, but her normal severity prevented most men from gazing at her in a more lustful manner.

Sebastian's tongue was a little rougher than a human's, though not quite as rough as a cat's. However, Frances seemed to quite enjoy the added texture when he drew it across her already taut nipples. As he had expected, she was not a particularly vocal lover, but the shudders and shivers she was prone to told him as much as her voice could have.

While she was distracted he unbuttoned the rest of her gown as well as his shirt. She became more forward, pushing his shirt off and gripping his strong back with her manicured nails. Sebastian's right hand, which had been working on their clothing, trailed across her stomach and then down to touch her.

He thrust two fingers into her without preamble. She was more than ready, and Sebastian was internally pleased that she was so wet with relatively little work on his part. Frances's hips snapped upwards and she bit her lip, and when she looked at him in wonder Sebastian thought that she looked somewhat girlish. Women of her age were usually more accustomed to this type of pleasure, and didn't react so enticingly. He wondered exactly what her husband had to be doing so wrong that he couldn't make her feel this.

His fingers moved quickly in and out, and after a few moments he added a third. Many, many years of experience told him exactly how to move, and in a few minutes he heard her gasp sharply and then felt the muscles around his fingers clench rhythmically.

He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them off sensually. His vision was practically as good at night as during the day, so he caught the very sudden blush that arose when he did.

He allowed her to recover for a moment while he undid his belt and discarded his pants and underwear. He climbed back over her predatorily and kissed her once more.

Sebastian aligned their bodies and thrust hard. Frances's voice hitched, and he noticed that she looked a bit uncomfortable for a passing moment. "It's been that long?" Sebastian asked, nearly laughing. "It's been awhile," she responded, eyes shifting away from his. "You're also a bit more…substantial," she said, keeping her gaze firmly on a wall and nearly mumbling the last bit.

Sebastian was glad her gaze was averted, because he was fairly certain his eyes momentarily lit up into a more fiery red at her words. His destructive and chaotic side was positively gleeful at the discord he was sowing between this previously content couple.

Sebastian grinned, pulling back and thrusting hard again. This time she arched up to meet him and moaned lowly. Only needing one arm to support himself, Sebastian used his right hand to grab behind Frances's knee and push it up. It didn't make it all the way up to her head, but close enough that he was still impressed by her flexibility. At this angle he was penetrating her more fully, and her head started thrashing from side to side as she came again.

This time she was a little noisier and whined almost pitifully in the back of her throat. Sebastian shuddered, this time her body clenching around something much more sensitive than his fingers, but kept a steady rhythm and held himself back.

After she'd ridden out her orgasm he pulled back slightly, a little unsure on the etiquette in this situation. "Come on," she said, pushing her hips into his, suddenly playful. "Aren't you going to finish?" He sighed in relief internally. However, he backed out further, disengaging their bodies completely.

She was momentarily confused, but he quickly flipped her onto her stomach, holding her around the waist so that her hips stayed in the air. Sebastian could tell she was about to protest at suffering this indignity, but the chastisement turned into a groan when he thrust back into her.

He hadn't exactly been gentle before, but his time he was positively rough. Frances wasn't exactly a delicate lady though, and after she let herself stop caring about the shameful position she was in she began to enjoy the smack of his hard body into hers.

Face in a pillow, her moans were softened, but to Sebastian she sounded quite lewd. He of course said nothing, sure that it would earn him a very stern reprimand when they went back to being lady and servant, but it delighted him to see such a prim and proper woman sounding like a common whore. He supposed he could indulge himself a tad more.

Seeing that she was close to another orgasm, he slowed down a bit and thrust more shallowly. She whimpered slightly, thrusting her own hips backwards to try and compensate. Sebastian threaded strong fingers into her hair and moved her head enough that the pillow no longer muffled her voice. "Beg," he commanded, his own voice a bit strained.

"I will not be—nghh," she finished, voice turning into a moan when he carefully ran a finger around her clitoris. He stroked her expertly, teasing but never pushing with enough force or accuracy to trigger a real reaction. Frances gasped intermittently, wiggling in an attempt to follow his finger. Finally she gave up.

"Please," she choked out. He put his finger over just the right spot, but let it hover there as he waited for more. She moaned again in a combination of pleasure and frustration. "Please let me come," she tried. His finger pressed harder.

She was so, so, maddeningly close. His thrusts became a little more forceful and she nearly cried with relief. But it was still not quite enough. "Please fuck me, Seb-ahhhh!" The rest of his name was lost as he pressed his finger down hard just as he thrust back in deeply, but he didn't care. Sebastian wasn't his real name in any case.

Her final orgasm was violent, and when she clamped down around him Sebastian growled and pulled at her hair once again, losing his rhythm for the last couple thrusts and giving an almost inaudible groan when he finally came as well.

He disengaged them before lowering himself between the sheets. To his surprise she made no move to leave. He let her stay, and even allowed himself to sleep for a few hours.

When Sebastian awoke Frances was still asleep, and he left her that way for the time being. He bathed and began preparing breakfast for the other servants and his master and guests. He woke her up about two hours later, sending her off to her room to bathe before the other servants got up.

In the daytime hours she was once again every inch the Marchioness. He knew this would very likely not continue, and that did not bother him. Yet, on the nights during the year that the lady stayed over, Sebastian often found himself listening for turning doorknobs and soft footsteps, waiting and wondering and maybe even wishing.