Katherine did not know what possessed her, nor what kept her where she was, but what had minutes ago been uncomfortably enjoyable was now entirely welcome. She let out a small sound of surprise in the back of her throat, what would have been a yelp, when the force of her assault pushed Eward backwards onto the bed, and Katherine with him, but before she had time to realize that she would roll off, he had caught her. Feeling the passion in his return of her kiss set alight the fire in her stomach, that pleasurable unease, the blind desire, and Katherine did not hesitate to press herself closer to him as his grip on her strengthened.
She had never been with a man, never done anything more daring than an unnecessary exploratory kiss to male friends in her teens. That said, Katherine was not unfamiliar with the relationship between men and women, having seen the looks on her parents' faces every year on the morning after their wedding anniversary, the playful flush, the little touches just a bit inappropriate. And she had, too, seen the explicit acts of lovers in the darker alleys in London on walks home from the theatre. But finding herself where she was, very much aware of Eward's desire for her, quickened her heart and heated her body. Clothes felt constricting. Touches through fabric felt incomplete. Kisses felt that they could not be passionate enough. The latter was easily fixed, and Katherine kissed Eward with even more intensity than before, practically moaning into his mouth with effort.