Boo!

I'm back :P .. This is for Yankee Countess (Sharon) who wanted someone to do a thing for those gifs .. this was meant to be a quick thing but it escalated and took me ages! Get well soon too! I hope it cheers you up a bit

Sorry its late.. :P

This is a sort of... continuation, one of better words, of her Insatiable fic that's out there, so if you wonder why its similar, that's the whole point :P

Anyway enjoy :)

Sybil watched with caution as the footman brought round the food. Every time the footman offered the food and more weight was put upon the table, she winced. She knew that it was unsound, almost broken and she knew she who it was to blame.

Sat alone in the dining room, both Tom and Sybil indulged in something they hadn't been able to do for a long time. They were able to have an after dinner cuddle, one that they usually had at home. Sybil moved onto his lap, Tom slightly surprised by the movement.

"Hello," he crooned, smiling widely and wrapping his arms around her. "I wasn't expecting this,"

"Well, we're alone and I didn't want to waste the opportunity," she murmured. She kissed his cheek, nuzzling it slightly. "I've missed this," she whispered afterward. HE chuckled lowly, pushing her shortened hair behind her ears. It was getting longer, he noted. He knew that soon she would want it cutting again but he wished that she would consider letting her hair grow out again.

"Me too," he whispered back. He stroked her cheek, giving a small smile as he relished in just holding her. "Its nice to be able to do... well, what we want to do. To be together in any way we want,"

He watched her smile and agree, kissing her sweetly. They lingered for a moment, before Sybil cupped his face, kissing him again. The kiss became passionate but not heated, the couple letting out slight sighs and moans with the feeling. Fingers entwined into hair, keeping one another close until they broke apart with a sigh, Sybil resting her head on Tom's shoulder.

Murmuring to her as they cuddled, Tom heard the door open and the couple were met with the very disapproving face of Carson. Sybil lifted her head, trying not to giggle at their intruder. The older man stared down at the couple but, still wanted to do his duty, no matter how much he didn't want to, he carried in the tray of desserts.

"Hello Mr Carson," Tom greeted, though the biggest smirk still sat on his face. "Ahh!" His face changed to a pout as Sybil gave him a light jab in his stomach. Carson couldn't resist a smile, but he had to remain professional.

He cleared his throat loudly, moving to stand next to the couple, who made no signs of moving.

"Oooh," Sybil smiled, peering over the top of the tray to try and see what dessert it was. "Dessert! What is it, Carson?"

Carson huffed uncomfortably, looking straight ahead rather than down at her.

"A chocolate something- all I know is that you requested it," He said. "I assume you still want them?"

Sybil turned to her husband, smiling, "Do we want one?"

"Whatever you want, darling," he shrugged.

Carson grumbled something before placing them down, turning to leave as quickly as possible. The couple giggled, Sybil grabbing the spoon first to eat.

"Hey now, when i said we can do what we want..."

She laughed aloud, purposely taking a large spoonful and eating it before him.

"It's not just yours you know," she chimed. She kissed him fully on the lips and he moaned, resting his forehead against hers.

"You are though, aren't you?" he murmured, playing with a curl that had fallen loose.

"All yours? Of course," she whispered, pecking his cheek. He smiled, tilting his head to nibble her neck. She groaned, running her fingers through his hair. She felt him laugh against her skin, his teeth grazing over her pulse point. She needed him closer; she grabbed his face, kissing him fiercely. He gathered her into his arms, standing from the chair, it tipping over behind him. He let her slowly slide down until her feet touched the floor; he could feel her gripping onto him, her nails scratching lightly at the back of his neck. He growled, breathless and needy, groping her rump as she undid his trousers.

Tom bent her over the table, pushing up her dress so it sat around her waist. Pulling her knickers just down her thighs, he pushed into her, laying over her to grab her hands. She groaned, biting her lip and grasping his fingers. He moved slowly letting her fell all of him. He kissed her neck, nibbled her earlobe, nuzzled her shoulder all making her moan loudly.

"Shh!" Tom warned. "The others are still around, if they hear you, they'll come in,"
He gently pinched her cheeks, turning her face to kiss her cheek. He continued, low almost a whisper, "And we don't want that do we?"
"No," she breathed, giggling as he thrust hard into her. "Fuck..."
Standing again and holding tight at her waist he pushed harder, the table moving slightly beneath them. The varnished wood made it harder to keel the skirt of Sybil's dress from slipping back down over her hips. He grunted when it fell for the third time, stopping to lift her hips to pull the dress off over her head. He threw it to the ground, free from ant barrier.
"Tom!" she gasped, reaching to the grab her dress. He slapped both her round cheeks, grasping her hips again.
Sybil bit her lip, keeping any loud cries at bay... Almost. Some noise did creep out and she began to pant. She closed her eyes tight, Tom's hard thrusts kept her near the edge, she just needed to move her hand down...
They both cried out in surprise as they were jolted, falling further down than they anticipated. Tom's arms wrapped around her middle, keeping her from falling.
"What-?" Sybil stuttered before bursting out into outright laughter. Looking down at the table beneath them, she saw the misaligned wood. She gasped, patting Tom's arm, who was starting to nibble at her neck again. "Tom!"
What?" he grumbled.
"Look!" she hissed. "I think we broke it!"

Sybil hummed as her favourite soup was served before her. Though she regretted the sound instantly, she knew she couldn't resist driving him mad. The awkward cough from across the table made her blush; she still didn't look at him. Cora, blissfully unaware, smiled at her daughter, as if she were a child.
"We're sorry to disrupt your little holiday together." she sighed, taking a small drink. "I know every couple needs some time alone,"
"Oh Mama! It's hardly anyone's fault!" she chuckled in disbelief. "Babies come when they choose." she shrugged and continued to eat. The Branson's did travel to Scotland with the family - neither Branson forgot that journey - but their little girl decided that this would be the perfect time to be ill and they had to return the next day. But they weren't put down, as they knew that they had a week to themselves... that was until Mary returned 4 days later in labour.
Again, she hummed, wiping the corner if her mouth with her napkin. That's when she spotted him. He had finished eating, hands slightly crossed, his left hand moving the cufflinks his opposite wrist. She squirmed in her seat, looking at him from under her eyelashes. He was staring straight at her, but it wasn't a stare she wanted to get away from. Not that her mind gave her much of a choice.

He was back in black tie again, after spending a whole weekend in white tie for the concert at Mary's insistence, there was no getting out if it. Of course, she loved it, every night the suit was crumpled on the floor after Sybil had almost ripped him out of it. He knew that she loved him in his dinner suits but this was a whole new lust. He knew that she could be terrible, he never let it go... what she did in the library at Duneagle...
She looked away quickly, taking in a deep breath as the heat warmed within her. She smiled at her mother, then Mary who looked rather sheepish.
"It's my own fault," Mary sighed. "It was all that reeling,"
"But you love to reel so that's to be expected," Sybil smirked. "I know you can't resist." Mary just shrugged knowingly, "I wish we'd still been there," Sybil directed at Tom. "I do like to dance,"
I know you do... "You're good at it," Tom smiled.
"I remember when you danced at your wedding," Mary smiled. "That was a sight to see,"
Edith laughed aloud, not even caring to control herself as her grandmother glared in surprise. "Mrs Branson thought you were going to start a riot!"
The younger ones laughed, the Branson's both blushing slightly. Yes, their incredibly... bold dancing at their own wedding reception was something that no-one could really forget; the tension of the time and distance which had affected them was made obvious in that one dance. Well, one dance that spanned across 5, with many kisses and groping.
Again, Sybil felt the same pair of eyes in her. The slight smile that played around his lips, his lowered gaze - she quietly whimpered as she too remembered that night. How she squealed and encouraged as he grabbed-
"What's this?" Robert drawled, not bothering to look up from his plate.
"We were just talking about dancing Papa, nothing to interest you," Sybil smiled, embarrassment almost clear in her face. Though her father couldn't read her mind, she still reddened at the memory.
"This was the dancing at their wedding." Edith explained. "Well, everyone tried to dance, but Tom and Sybil seemed to hold it on their own."
"That wasn't all they were holding," Mary murmured quietly and Matthew, who had been listening for the majority of the time, burst out into laughter. The others joined in, Tom stopping to admire the pretty blush that rose up from his wife's chest. He watched her scowl at her sister, giving a quiet retort, one that went unheard. Again, Sybil felt a piercing pair of eyes on her. Though this time she didn't shy away, she looked back, though only for a moment, and saw the pure hunger in his eyes.
"Mary!" Violet gasped, completely aghast at her eldest granddaughters comment. She expected this from Sybil but not Mary...
As the laughter dissipated into an uncomfortable silence, the family declared dinner over and all moved through to the drawing room. Cora asked why the men were joining them so early and was told that Robert couldn't sit at that table much longer as something was digging into his leg. 'The hinge must have slipped underneath or something...'
Sybil snickered quietly, turning to whisper to her husband... who wasn't there. She turned, going back into the room to be greeted by an interesting sight.
"Tom what are you doing?" she asked, stifling a giggle as it was his backside facing her. As he moved it wiggled slightly, giving her a full view.
And what a nice one it is...
She coughed, blushing as she tried not to become too distracted, though it was proving tough.
"I was fiddling with my cufflinks and one pinged off. It went under her somewhere." he whined from under the table. He palmed the carpet, huffing when he couldn't find it. He rested his cheek in his palm, looking at the underside if the table. He smirked at the nearly broken hinge, remembering the night they had to themselves.
"Love?" he called. "Look what I found." He lifted the tablecloth, smiling up at her. "A defect in the table," he winked and she swatted him. He stayed laying on his elbow, appreciating the view of his wife. He watched her blush under his gaze and she began to speak, but couldn't really hear; his eyes lingers on the hem of her dress, that sat just below her knees, showing the shape of her stocking covered legs. He casually wondered if they were the ones that had the lace at the top. He liked those... A lot. His eyes drew to her hips and waist. They were widened from having a baby, but that only defined her figure. There was also more of her to hold, to grasp, to smack... He thought of how his fingers would indent into her sides, he thought of the little red marks he left from the last time they were in this room. His eyes drifted onto her chest and her neck. Of course, like any man he couldn't resist her breasts. They had been completely banned from him during pregnancy and for sometime after.. But that didn't mean he couldn't look. Her neck was one of his favourites. It was so sensitive, whenever he kissed or stroked or even sucked on the flesh he knew her control would fade. He groaned quietly, seeing the faded red mark just showing in her shoulder; the neckline in her dress hid it slightly.
"What?" she murmured, chewing her lip. He stood, without a word, and wrapped an arm around her waist, the other to stroke her cheek.
"Nothing," he whispered, tilting his head to kiss across her collar bone, gently licking the gap in the middle. He felt the low groan in her chest and he smiled into her skin. The gentle kisses turned to peppering bites and Sybil tangled her fingers in his hair, her head tilted, her mouth opening. She whispered to him, spurring him on.
Kneeling before her, he watched her as his hands stroked up her legs, taking her skirt with them. He moaned, laughing a little in his glee.
"I like these," he murmured against her leg, taking the edge of her stocking between his teeth lightly. He let it spring back and she giggled. She stroked his hair as he continued to kiss up her thigh, until his head was nearly covered by her skirt. The end of her silk knickers were the straps holding up her stockings and Tom could see his dilemma.
"You're going to have to hold this up for me," he smiled his sweetest smile for her. She took her own skirt fir him and nearly let it slip when she felt her stockings, one after the other, roll down her legs. She heard him tut sadly, tracing one finger around her knee. "I wish there was a way for these to stay up on their own without a garter,"
She sighed, nodding. She liked garters... until she had to put on her dress which gave away the underwear; you could see the outline whenever she sat down. She had bought it for their anniversary, which was a few weeks after the baby was born. But all the complications put their celebration on hold and it never came of use... until Tom stumbled (he claims) upon it in the wardrobe. He dropped hint after hint fir her to wear it and after the almost disastrous time in the dining room previously she promised a surprise.
"I know," she breathed. "Please stop teasing me Tom,"
He nodded and pulled down her strapped knickers, asking her to step out of one leg. He kissed around her warm centre, whispering his dirty mutterings in between.
Yes... Sybil thought. So close...

Voices could be heard outside the door and both Branson's panicked. Tom tried to stand, scooting to bring himself out from the table but a foot on his backside push him under. He landed, without much grace, onto his front and crawled as quick as he could to conceal himself from whoever was walking in. Sybil's feet soon appeared under the table as she sat, a hand reaching for her knickers that rested around her left ankle. He reached for her leg, taking them for her.
"Thank you," she sighed, but nothing appeared as she held her hand out for them. "Tom! Give me them-"
The door opened and Sybil pulled the chair further under the table so her lower body was hidden. "Papa... what are you doing in here?" she smiled, showing she was cheery... when in reality she felt terrified as a hand was stroking her calf. She tried kicking him away but his other hand held her foot to the floor.
"I was going to ask you the same question," Robert frowned. "Why are you still in here?"
She stuttered, thinking of an excuse... but the work worn hand lifting of her skirt made her mind go blank.
Don't you dare... If you value your life you-
"I just... wanted some quiet really." Sybil shrugged, slyly grasping Tom's hand, trying to dig in her nails but the layered up fabric of her skirt made them ineffective and now two hands were gently rubbing over her thighs. "Hum! Err... it's just been a long few days," she smiled, humming quietly. She turned away from her father, chewing on her lip. The hands grasped under her knees, pulling her further down the chair; she squeaked and held onto the edge of the seat. Her father looked startled and moved toward her.
I can't believe he's doing this! It's as if we were back in-
No...
NO! Not here! Not now!
She couldn't do anything but let it happen, or else risk being caught.
"Sybil?"
"I'm fine, honestly." she dismissed. "The chair rocked slightly,"
Robert nodded, though he wasn't fooled. He moved to ait next to her, pulling out the chair.
"Oh no papa, you don't have to-"
"I want to talk to you," he sighed, holding up his hand to quieten her.
'Shit!" Tom hissed, stopping his actions and dodging the feet of his father in law; being caught now would be disastrous.
Robert looked around him, searching for the voice but put it down to it being nothing and continued.
"I wanted to talk to you about the baby-"
"Sybbie,"
"Yes, Sybbie," he corrected, suddenly very nervous. "I want you to consider a nanny, Sybil. You can't handle the baby all on your own-"
"We're not!" she sighed. "We can handle it. Papa yoga re being- oh!"
She gasped as she felt Tom's tongue trace around her wet centre, moving his head slightly so his nose bumped against her clit. She shook her head, trying to distract herself from what was happening under the table. She moaned again, taking in deep breaths.
"Sybil?" Robert asked, quite startled. She just coughed dismissing anything wrong. He continued but "I know you don't want the nanny but-"
"No we don't. So please stop- Oh don't stop!"
She rested her head back against the chair, a hint of a smile dimming to her lips. Beneath the table, Tom smirked at her slip and sucked her nub between his lips, keeping his hands on her thighs to keep them open.
"Sybil?" Robert asked, fairly worried at her strange behaviour. "Are you well? Is it your head?"
She shook her head, sucking in her lip to keep her moans quiet.
"I-I'm fine... Papa." she sighed, letting her head loll forward again. She smiled dreamily, her eyes widening. "I'm just- just a bit tired .. OH!"
Two long fingers pushed within her and stroked, slow and deliberate. Tom smirked at Lord Granthams legs, fighting the urge to laugh in his face. He moved his fingers faster, growling and burying his face within the tight space between her legs.
His fingers twisted and curled and Sybil couldn't stop panting. She ran her hand quickly over her forehead, before grasping the table in front of her. His tongue was relentless and completely devilish. She could feel him smile beneath her, his end-of-day stubble brushed roughly against her sensitive skin. She growled, she wanted to kill him for what he was doing but at the same time, if he DARED stop...
"Tom..." She groaned.
"Tom?" Robert questioned, looking and feeling completely confused. He grabbed her hand but she wouldn't look at him; she still sat breathing heavily, moaning her husband's name. As much as Tom wanted to bring her over the edge - it would be the most perfect revenge - he didn't want to leave. His tongue traced patterns around her flesh, brushing over her nub from different ways, stopping a few times to nip and tease her
"Tom!" she gasped before throwing back her head, the strong sensations taking over her. She had tried so hard to calm herself but she just couldn't. "TOM!"
"I'll go and find him," Robert said, almost tripping over his own chair as he ran from the room. Now her father was gone, she gripped her husbands hair under the table, keeping him to her as she came undone. She felt him moan against her, his fingers leaving her, both hands now stroking her thighs. She let him go, letting out a huge sigh, before growling,
"You... naughty man!" She heard him laughing, his head appearing from beneath the table cloth. He rested his chin on her leg, a large grin on his face.
"Well, you were an incredibly naughty girl, remember?" he reasoned, pushing back her chair to escape. He stood over her, kissing her nose and pulling down her dress. She righted her underwear, shaking her head. "So I guess we're even,"
"You-!"
"I couldn't find him but-" Robert burst into the room, confused. "Tom?"
"I heard Sybil shouting," he explained simply. "I wanted to make sure she was alright."
Sybil was leant forward in the table, smiling sleepily at her husband. She held his hand, using it to help her stand. Her kegs were quivering and she leant into him, keeping herself stable.
"And I'm fine," she murmured, kissing her husband's cheek.
"Are you sure? I was about to ring for Dr Clarkson," Robert spoke, frowning at his daughter's miraculous recovery.
"I think it's time we got you to bed," Tom smiled, guiding Sybil out of the room, who whispered,
"I have no intention if sleeping though,"
"Erm... G-goodnight," Robert stuttered, shaking his head and rubbing the back of it. Moving to sit in the seat he had been sitting in before he could not think for the life of him what was wrong with his daughter. He moved to cross one leg over another and his trouser leg snagged in the broken hinge. It ripped straight across the leg and Robert huffed, mumbling and moaning at his ruined trousers. Lifting the tablecloth to find the source, he saw something glistening underneath. He picked it up to discover it was a cufflink.

The next evening after dinner, he noticed that Tom was wearing two different cufflinks.

"I do believe this is yours," he grumbled, thankfully missing Sybil's blush. Tom smiled, though there was something behind it, the glint in his eye did make him feel very uncomfortable. He wanted to glance behind him to look at Sybil though he didn't know why.

"Ahh! I was looking for this last night," he cheered, thanking him. Tom moved to sit by his wife, "Where did you find it?"

"It was under the table,"

"That's funny. I looked under there for such a long time,"

A/N: Finished! Do you like it?

Don't worry, there will be another one for the second smut weekend :P .. I could have been cruel and kept this one for then but I promised :P

Tell me what you think :D

xxxx