5Just Until Tomorrow Night.
Before she knew what she was doing, Sybil involuntarily felt her breath hitch.
Tom was standing just behind her, his fingers poised hesitantly over the laces of her corset as though unsure what to do with them next.
The air between them crackled with intensity and Sybil found herself becoming more and more aware of even the tiniest of her fiancée movements.
'It would be so easy to turn around now', she thought to herself. 'to turn around and kiss him senselessly...but that would be indecent, wouldn't it?'
She was afraid, terrified really (but not of Tom of course, she trusted him implicitly).
It was herself that Sybil was frightened of...herself and all the things she wanted but knew she couldn't have.
(Not yet anyway).
A strange beast was rearing it's head curiously in the pit of her stomach, a deep aching hunger for the man who stood behind her spreading from her core and making her feel tingly and jittery all over until she could think of nothing else.
As Tom untied the corset, the laces coming undone from each eyelet...Sybil felt as though she, herself, was being undone and unravelled right along with it.
His every movement was magnified to the extreme, until Tom Branson was the only person in the whole wide world she could think about in that moment.
She was buzzing and burning beneath his touch.
'Oh goodness what is happening to me', Sybil thought desperately to herself, unused to her desire for Tom being at this magnitude.
The whole situation felt very intimate, far more intimate than even the most passionate of kisses the pair of them had shared before.
There was something about seeing Tom with his jacket and tie removed and his shirt sleeves all rolled up, revealing his strong forearms that made her eyes linger in desire.
He had watched her intently, earnestly, from across the room as Sybil had carefully unpinned her long mane of curls...the newfound intimacy between them had evidently not been lost upon him either.
Seeming Tom like this, all mussed and loose and ready for bed...awoke something deep inside Sybil. He made her feel flushed and dizzy and lightheaded all at once...feelings she hadn't known herself capable of before she met Tom.
It was maddening being so close to each other but knowing it would be totally improper to touch him in all the ways she wanted most.
Reaching a hand underneath the material of her blouse, Sybil had originally tried (and failed miserably) to loosen the laces of her corset alone.
It hadn't take long before she realised how pointless her efforts would be without Tom's help.
In a moment of boldness, she had managed to muster the courage to ease the blouse over her head to gain better access to the offending undergarment.
Immediately Sybil was struck by how bare she was standing before the man who would soon be her husband...standing in front of Tom, her Tom...the man she loved and desired so much that she could feel the effects of his tantalising proximity burning hot in her blood.
It was as though she had gunpowder in her veins and Tom Branson held the only match.
That had been the moment when Sybil had coyly asked him to help her.
"Are you alright, love?", Tom asked once the task completed and her corset was removed.
His brow was creased in concern, apparently having sensed the tension that had frozen his fiancée's body.
Sybil shivered, an action that she was certain Tom had noticed even if he hadn't already seen the gooseflesh that she was knew had made an appearance all the way up and down her arms.
It was all because of him.
Under any other circumstances, Sybil would have internally cursed herself for having asked Tom to help her out of the bloody corset...but she couldn't, or rather wouldn't, not when his warm calloused hands felt so wonderfully intoxicating on her lower back.
They were still there on her back, his hands, even though they had no reason to be...Sybil loved that...loved that Tom clearly wanted this as much as she did...wanted to touch and be touched in return.
Her mind kept wandering, rather sinfully, to thoughts that Sybil knew it wouldn't be right or proper to voice aloud just yet.
She wondered what his kisses would have felt like had they been planted there, on her neck and back...and all the other places that his fingers had so tentatively and carefully brushed over as he had worked the laces of her corset loose.
Sybil found herself imagining what Tom lips would feel like in all the countless places on her body where they had yet to visit...places that they had only ever been in her wildest of dreams.
"Thank you", she somehow managed to squeak out, her usually low and husky voice becoming almost comically high.
Her face was burning hotly at the images her mind had conjured up, images of her and Tom between the sheets, images of what Tom would look like coming undone above her.
The thought made her shiver, but shiver pleasantly in anticipation.
"I think I can manage from here", she said, feeling desperately as though she should move quickly away from her fiancée in fear that would not be able to help herself any longer if such proximity between them continued.
"I can manage the rest", Sybil repeated, sounding intially firmer and surer this time, despite how her voice cracked slightly. She found herself blushing once again, unable to meet his eye.
Hesitantly she looked up at him and to her surprise, Tom smiled. "Sybil darlin'", he said, gently guiding her around by the shoulders to face him.
Sybil flushed under Tom's gaze. Self consciously, the young aristocrat found herself reaching for her blouse, folding the material over the front of her chest, hiding her flimsy chemise.
She needed every barrier between them that she could muster if she truly was not to succumb to the fullness of her feelings for Tom.
Despite her current raging emotions, Sybil had truly meant what she had said when she told Tom, upon accepting his proposal, that she wanted to wait until everything was settled before they...did more than just kiss one another...
But the look that her darling fiancée was giving her, like she was the only person in the whole wide world, felt like nothing if not an earthquake to her already shaky resolve.
"You know that you can trust me, right Love?", Tom told her softly, honestly.
He tucked a lock of her wild curly hair playfully behind her ear, clearly in an attempt to lighten the mood and make her smile. "There's no need to be uncomfortable. I promise that I can behave myself."
His words, spoken with such openness, genuineness and love, did rather the opposite to what Sybil knew he had hoped to achieve.
Instead of being calmed and reassured, she only felt herself wanting Tom even more.
He truly was such a gentleman...a part of her found that rather infuriating...
"It's not like that, Tom", Sybil told him as she took one of his hands in her own, lacing their fingers together.
In that moment, she found herself recalling the day she told him to wait for her until the war was over and Tom, in response, had determinedly vowed that he would wait for her forever. "I trust you completely. You're the most patient man I know."
"Then what's the matter?"
Sybil sighed deeply, unable to look him straight in the eye as the next words fell from her lips.
In that moment, she was certain that her face must surely be a darker shade of red than it had ever been in her whole life.
"It's totally maddening, isn't it? When you want someone so much that you feel as though you could explode at any minute."
At this, Sybil chanced a glance up at Tom and found herself enamoured by the reverence and desire that she saw in his eyes...eyes that had darkened with a desire that Sybil could only describe as primal.
She knew the same intense feelings must have been reflected back in her own expression...Goodness knows, she could feel it powerfully enough...burning ardently in what felt like every fibre of her being.
Sybil felt as though she could get lost in his eyes forever.
"So what you're saying is..."
"is that you aren't the one that I don't trust to behave tonight—it's me! I don't trust myself! I want you, Tom...I want you in ways that it's only right for a wife to want her husband."
At this, Tom smiled kindly and understandingly. He laid a chaste hand on her waist.
Sybil felt herself relax at the comforting and familiar nature of Tom's touch.
It was a gesture similar to one of the very few illicit touches that they had shared over the years.
It called to mind a moment that Sybil had returned to frequently in previous months when her daydreams rambled in the direction of the man who was now her fiancée.
The warm and soothing pressure of Tom's hand on her hip somehow managed to ease the tension between them, despite how his fingers, just a few inches from their current position, had previously been driving her wild.
"Darlin'", Tom said softly, questioningly. "You said only hours ago that you wanted to wait..."
Sybil glanced up at him seriously, a slight frown on her face. "Don't tell that you aren't tempted."
Tom smiled humourlessly, running a hand through her dark mane of hair.
His response was honest and full of a certain type of signature 'Tom Branson earnestness' that always got to Sybil in a way that few other things could.
"Of course I am, how could I not be? But I promised you that I would wait forever...and any promise I make to you Sybil, I will always keep."
At his admission, Sybil smiled silently, reaching for him.
Unable to find the words to express how much Tom and his patience meant to her, she instead wrapped both of her arms around him, bringing them into a proper (yet perfectly innocent) embrace.
Her next words were breathed out as whispers against his neck...almost to reassure herself as much as him that there would be no more waiting once they were husband and wife. Her determined tone brought both of them back to that day in the garage when Sybil assured Tom that they would only have to wait a few more weeks to be together...and now they were.
...but of course, as it always seemed to be in their relationship, the young couple were waiting once again.
"Not forever, Tom. Just until tomorrow night."
He hummed in agreement.
She could feel the sound reverberating against her chest.
"Until tomorrow night, my darlin.'"
After a few moments, they parted from one another's arms...feeling a little awkward as they stood in the middle of the room with only one double bed at its centre.
What on earth were they going to do about that!
Tom smiled, comfortingly and reached for Sybil's hand. "C'mon, Love. We should probably get a few hours rest. I can even sleep on the chair if you'd prefer"
Let me know if you liked it/ hated it/ thought it could have been better etc. This one has been sitting on my laptop a few weeks now and I wasn't sure whether to publish or scrap it. Let me know your thoughts! Also if you are into Sybil/Tom and Mary/Matthew AU fics. My seventh chapter of 'I'll Be Out There Somewhere' is up now if you want to have a read.
Anyways, I really hope you all have a really lovely weekend!
Pearlydewdrop xx
