A/N: From the prompt for the Pink Lace Challenge on tumblr - "Imagine Person A of your OTP coming home from a long day at work. Person B is thrilled to see them but can tell that they're stressed. So Person B starts to give Person A a massage, slowly kissing their neck and shoulders, feeling all over their body. The tension builds and Person A can't take it anymore so they grab Person B, pull them onto their lap and they have a long love making session."


April 1889

"Lady Grantham requested that you go speak with her as soon as you arrived back, my lord," Thompson said as he collected Patrick's light coat and hat.

"Where might her ladyship be?" Patrick pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, wondering what Violet might have to tell him. He was already under a great deal of strain with estate business, and he didn't want anything else to deal with that day.

The butler inclined his head toward the stairs. "She's still resting in her room, Lord Grantham."

"Thank you, Thompson." He departed for his wife's bedroom.

At the knock upon her door and Patrick's voice calling through it, Violet grinned, then looked down to make sure her dressing gown was securely fastened before telling him to enter. The grin faded from her lips when she observed how drawn his face seemed.

"Patrick, what's wrong?" She took his hand and pulled him farther into the room after he'd shut the door behind him.

"Nothing for you to worry about, Violet. What did you want to speak to me about?" His voice sounded very heavy.

Violet put her hands upon her hips. "Now you know that I do not need to be protected. What is this all about?"

He shook his head. "Oh, just the usual spring concerns. And with Robert in London with Cora and the manager ill…." Patrick leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "It's simply been a lot of work."

"Come, Patrick. Sit down here and let your wife help you forget all that for a while." She gave him a soft smile and indicated a comfortable armchair.

Patrick returned her smile and let her take his jacket before sitting with a long sigh.

Violet went around to the back of the chair and placed her hands upon his shoulders. "It won't be but a few more days until Robert returns, Patrick." She began kneading his neck and shoulders in an experienced motion, years of practice in making her husband feel less anxious over the estate and their family coming to her aid. She smiled even wider when he began emitting low noises of appreciation and relaxation.

Closing his eyes, Patrick gave himself up to his wife's tender ministrations. Violet could be a hard and stubborn woman, but she did take her duties as his helpmeet seriously. After she'd worked out a particularly difficult knot in his lower back – he having leaned forward as her hands started meandering down his spine – he let out a long, contented sigh and grabbed one of her arms. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her palm and then her wrist, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.

"Patrick," she chided softly with a chuckle. But when he settled back into the chair again, his lips still traveling along her wrist and hand, Violet threaded the fingers of her other hand into his hair, massaging his scalp gently.

"Hmmm…" Patrick hummed. Then, between kisses, he asked, "What did you want to speak to me of, Violet?"

She leaned closer to his ear, saying in a low voice, "I simply wanted to let you know that I've had a lovely dinner set out for the two of us. Rosamund is dining elsewhere tonight. So we'll have our celebration all to ourselves."

Patrick paused in his attentions to his wife's arm, and he blinked rapidly, trying to remember what they might be celebrating. His mind came up blank. Clearing his throat, he said casually, "Celebration?"

Violet pried her hand from him abruptly, and he noted with regret that her fingers left his hair. "Patrick Crawley! Don't tell me you've forgotten!" She walked around front of the chair to gape at him.

"I – Violet – I don't know. I'm sorry."

She sighed deeply and flounced over to the chaise lounge, plopping down upon it and crossing her arms. "Ordered a fine dinner and bought a gift and for what?" she muttered.

Patrick got up and went to her, kneeling down next to her and running a hand along her arm. "Violet, please. I'm sorry. Whatever it is – I've been so overwhelmed with everything the past week or so, and – please, just tell me what I've forgotten."

Violet pouted. She rarely ever pouted, and Patrick couldn't help but feel a bit of a thrill because of it. Her bottom lip jutted ever so slightly out most becomingly, her eyes round and ice blue. She fidgeted a trifle, her shoulders twitching up and down. "You're usually the one reminding me every year, Patrick. How could you have forgotten?"

Sitting back upon his heels, Patrick's eyes grew wide with recognition. "Oh, darling, I apologize. I hadn't even thought…. Our anniversary."

She continued to pout. "Yes. It used to be important to you."

"Violet, my dear, it is important to me –" He hung his head, mortified at his mistake. Most couples of their station never even acknowledged their wedding anniversaries, but for Violet and Patrick it had always been a true cause for celebration.

"I even bought you a gift."

Her gentle caress of his cheek caught Patrick by surprise. Looking up at her, Patrick began to grin at the mischievous sort of expression in her face. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

"Well, we shall see." She gave an exaggerated sigh. "I wasn't done with you yet. Sit back down in the chair."

Patrick did as he was told. Violet went around the back again and started where she'd left off, her fingers in his dark locks.

"That feels nice, my darling," he said in a low voice. He kept imagining her little pout and subsequent mischievous look, then grinned when she accompanied her ministrations with light kisses to his temple and the nape of his neck.

Soon Violet was humming sweet words against his skin, her gentle touch and soft lips beginning to drive him wild. He grasped her arm once more and tugged her out from behind the chair. Violet shuffled backwards around to the front and, the backs of her knees coming into abrupt contact with his legs, toppled into his lap. Chuckling, she wrapped her arms around his neck as his arms encircled her waist.

"Well, what have we here?" Patrick asked, a wicked glint in his eye.

Violet's eyebrow lifted, but she grinned. "Someone who is very happy to have you all to herself tonight."

"Is that so?" he inquired teasingly. "How happy?"

Instead of responding with words, Violet bent her head down and kissed her husband with deliberate tenderness. Patrick's arms tightened about her waist, and he encouraged her to deepen the kiss. She leaned into him, pressing him into the plush back of the armchair. As they kissed, one of Patrick's hands slid around to the front of Violet's dressing gown, worrying the knot in the tie until it came loose.

All of a sudden, Violet pulled away, swatting at his hands. "Don't, Patrick! You'll ruin your gift!"

Patrick laughed. "How will my undoing your dressing gown ruin my gift?" He leaned closer to her, whispering, "We have plenty of time until the dressing gong."

She scowled at him and drew her dressing gown more carefully closed. "You're not to see until later."

"See what?" Her enigmatic remark had definitely piqued his interest. Patrick attempted to pry her hands away. "Let me see. You're going to kill me with curiosity if you don't, Violet."

Her blush took him aback. "It's supposed to be a surprise for later. Your gift." She pushed at his hands. "You'll ruin it."

Patrick fixed her with a look of mock shock. "I would never!" He shook his head. "Well, I suppose if we won't be… er… you might need to get up."

Violet's arms slid around his neck immediately. "I don't want to get up. Can't we just…." She kissed him again, nibbling gently upon his bottom lip in the way she knew he enjoyed.

Wrapping his arms around her waist once more, he scooted her even closer to him and soon was trailing kisses down her neck. Sighing happily, Violet tilted her head back, allowing him to draw the fabric of her dressing gown away from her collar bone.

Then she felt him twitching the silk open even more. "Patrick, it's supposed to be a surprise," she breathed. But his lips were traveling down even more, and she had no more mind to protest.

Patrick finally parted the dressing gown completely, revealing an unexpected satin corset in a shade of dusty rose. "Violet," Patrick managed, unable to tear his eyes from the way the hue threw a rosy color into Violet's skin or how her bosom heaved above the delicate cotton of the shift beneath the corset.

Violet watched his reaction carefully, following to where his eyes caressed the curves of the corset. "Are you at least surprised?" she queried.

He nodded, then, starting at the top of the corset, glided his hands over her figure. He stopped at her hips, squeezing them gently. "Is this my gift?" His eyes finally lifted to meet hers.

Once more she blushed bright crimson. "Yes. But now you've ruined it."

She pouted again, and Patrick couldn't stand it anymore. He crushed his mouth to hers and eased her dressing gown down her shoulders and arms and flung it onto the floor. Her fingers worked to unbutton his waistcoat and divest him of it. One of Patrick's hands rested upon her calf, then made its way up her leg, pulling her shift up with it. For that's all Violet wore: shift, corset, and drawers. A frisson of pleasure went through him to think she was so scantily clad. "Violet," he breathed, fidgeting a bit below her, bending his head to place feathery kisses along the tops of her breasts above the corset and shift.

Closing her eyes, Violet felt her pulse racing and her need for her husband increase exponentially. She carefully stood, then drew up her shift and sat astride Patrick's lap, causing him to groan deeply. She ran her fingers along his chest through his shirt as he cupped her buttocks, pressing her against him and kissing the crests of her creamy, soft breasts again.

"Sweet heavens, Violet," he moaned. She'd enchanted him in the way only she could, and he wasn't sure how long he could wait before he would need to rip the corset from her so he might feel her flesh against his.

Dipping her head down, Violet captured his mouth again, kissing him longingly as she worked on the buttons to his shirt. Patrick's hands sought the button to her drawers, flicking it open finally. He dragged his fingers along the waistband, hooking them beneath it and letting forth a sigh of delight as Violet rose in front of him so he could work them down over her hips and thighs. He pressed his forehead into her waist, happy when she twisted her fingers into his hair.

Finally, her drawers landed upon the floor, but Patrick ran his hands up and down the backs of her thighs. "Don't move," he whispered into her abdomen.

Violet's fingers tugged at his hair as he fondled her between the legs. She panted and shook until she couldn't remain upright and slumped down into his lap again, nuzzling her head into his neck, her breath warm against his throat.

"Violet," he whispered. "Help me undress?"

Lifting her head, Violet grinned at him. Without saying a word, she shrugged off his braces and his shirt, then moved backwards to stand, beckoning him to stand as well. While pressing a kiss to his lips, she unfastened his trousers and pushed them down, then did the same with his drawers. She smiled against his mouth as she brushed her fingers over his arousal. "Hmmm…" she hummed.

Stepping away from her momentarily, Patrick bent to remove his clothes from around his ankles. At the sound of her starting to unhook the corset, he looked up. "No." He grinned. "Let me."

She blushed and smiled at him, standing in wait as he tossed the remainder of his garments away. Once he stood in front of her, though, he surprised her. Instead of training his eyes upon the corset as he unhooked it, he fastened them upon hers, conveying with the sincerity of his expression and his intent gaze the depth of his feeling for her. Peeling the corset away, he dropped it onto the floor before grasping the fine fabric of her shift and drawing it over her head.

Taking her hands, he leaned forward and murmured into her ear, "I love you, Violet. I know I don't say it very often, but I do love you. With my whole heart."

Violet's hands squeezed his. "Oh, Patrick. I know. And I love you too." She pulled back and smiled at him warmly, pleased when he returned her smile and then drew her closer to kiss her on the mouth – a long, lovely, tender kiss.

However, as the tender kiss became more passionate, the pair wrapped their arms about one another, and soon Patrick was walking backward to that chair once more. Sitting upon it, bringing Violet down with him, he appreciated that she automatically climbed onto his lap, kneeling with her legs on either side of his as she had before. "Violet," he whispered, "do you remember the other week?"

As he grazed his hands over her sides and hips and behind, all she could do was sigh and nod. One hand she thrust into his hair as she kissed him again, and with the other she helped guide herself to the proper place above him. She released a throaty groan as she slid down upon him, gratified to hear his own answering moan. Within another moment, Patrick slipped his hands below her behind, kneading her soft skin as he aided her in establishing a cadence pleasurable to them both.

"Patrick," she sighed while her husband dipped his head down to flick his tongue around her nipples. Violet stroked his hair and panted, her heart racing and her skin flushed with a pink glow.

He loved hearing her sigh his name, and he worked to get her to do so several more times – nipping at her throat and kissing her breathless, nibbling her earlobes and trailing his mouth over her collar bone and shoulders. They'd only tried this position a few times (thanks to the tips of Isidore Levinson), but Patrick couldn't believe Violet's response – or his own response. She was effectively riding him, and he had no words to say how this excited and thrilled him, to see his normally very prim and proper wife this way.

Once she'd sighed his name a fourth time, Patrick pressed her hips into his, closing his eyes and letting out a guttural noise as he felt his release. He wrapped his arms more firmly around Violet, cleaving her to him and smiling to feel her rest her head down upon his shoulder.

"Darling, I didn't really ruin the gift, did I?" he asked in true concern.

"No," she answered, turning slightly to place a few feathery kisses upon his shoulder. "I can always give it to you again later."

Patrick chuckled, running light fingers over her back. "I'll have to figure out an appropriate gift to give you, then."

Violet lifted her head, gazing at him with a smile. "I'm sure you will, Patrick. I'm sure you will." She kissed him gently, then whispered, "Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary, my darling Violet," he replied, embracing her more fervently and kissing her once again.