Awakening
by Lynn Saunders
Honestly, he's not quite sure exactly what he's done right, but she's upon him as soon as the front door clicks closed. He has been so distracted by the secret, hungry look in her eyes - shared in furtive glances over their tea and supper, across the dew-slicked Abbey grounds as they made their way home - that he can't quite manage hanging his coat. He lets it fall with a groan as she works his fly open right there in their quaint little cottage doorway, and he remembers the creak of another door years ago, her squeal of laughter as he lifted her onto that blessedly sturdy conservatory workbench.
Something about the confident way she's touching him now puts him in mind of that Anna, a woman full to bursting with hope and giddy from the joy of having him home and safe, finally. He hasn't truly seen her this way in years. He doesn't have time to reflect on this development at length, however. She's too insistent for that. She's already got him out of his waistcoat, and he chuckles as she impatiently tugs his braces over his shoulders.
He pulls her close with a smile. "You did miss me, then?"
She raises an eyebrow, slipping the knot from his tie in response. He flashes on the memory of her pale skin awash in firelight as they came together fully for the first time, of fine linens and a four poster bed. Of spring.
She brings the pad of his thumb to her lips, and they barely make it upstairs safely. Soon he's pulling her into his lap and hitching up her skirts in the warm candlelight of their bedroom. She gasps as she sinks down onto him, burying her face in his neck as she rides him up and down. They haven't made love in this sort of frantic, longing way since the days following his abrupt return on Christmas Eve, but now something about her seems even more free.
He runs his fingers along the buttons at the back of her neck, traces her shoulder blades through the fabric of her dress, and holds her tighter as she takes his earlobe between her teeth. This is intoxicating, seeing her this way again. It's so sudden, and he doesn't want to do anything to break the spell.
She clutches at him, whispers low in his ear how much she loves having him this way, arches her back with a sigh of his name, and his release catches him almost off guard. He rests his forehead against hers, trying to find his breath, and she kisses him sweetly.
They part only long enough to discard their rumpled clothing before tangling together once more. Her fingernails mark his shoulders as he moves within her, and this time he nips her neck as she voices her pleasure loudly, without a care for the neighbors. He kisses her between murmurs of encouragement, and in the night he lies awake, watching as the pale moon slips across the sky, the midnight air flush with promise.
When she moves toward him again, the plump gibbous has already set, and the sky in the east is just beginning to lighten. He blinks awake as she nestles closer, opening his arms for her. The fronts of their bodies press together as he lets his eyelids drift shut once more, pressing a kiss to her temple. She draws her hands down his chest, hooking a leg over his hip. Oh. Suddenly, he's wide awake.
"Again?" She whispers the question quietly against his cheek.
His smile is wide and genuine. His hands wander over the curve of her buttocks, pulling her closer. He wouldn't have thought it possible quite so soon, but he's hard and ready for her once more. He lets her feel his desire in answer, and they make love near dawn, rolling in the sheets like young lovers.
She bites her lip and pushes against his chest as she moves above him. His smile is lazy, his gaze heavy-lidded, and he draws his hands low across her belly. He worries for an instant that such an intimate gesture might make her suddenly remember their troubles, but she seems soothed by it. She sighs and grins and closes her eyes.
He grips her hips and thrusts slowly up to meet her. She hums appreciatively, and presently he reaches up to stroke her cheek. She leans into his palm with a smile. Her hips roll slowly, her head lolls back, and her eyes drift shut in such a way that he knows she's close. He can almost feel it. He imagines being able to run his fingers along the taut thread of her pleasure, watching as it begins to bloom, her forehead creased with concentration.
There's been a shift, an awakening. The sheets pool around her waist, and the first hint of morning light touches her cheeks. She looks like some sort of luminescent springtime nymph, awoken late but rising with the sun even so. Later, their eyes will meet over the rim of her teacup at the breakfast table, and he will resolve to tell her just that.
* This post-ep for 6.2 was originally posted to Tumblr after the episode aired. I'd intended it to be part of a larger story, and that still may happen, but after revisiting it, I think it stands well on its own.
* All of my DA era fic exists inside of one canon-style timeline. For more information, visit lynnsaundersfanfic dot tumblr dot com backslash banna.
Related stories in order: Mystery of Joy (including A Meeting at Night and Homecoming) - Sweet Dreams - Hope Traversed at Night - Anything - Awakening