Out of all his pet names for her, what she loved hearing the most was when he called her Mrs. Addams. It seemed plain compared to the deliciously romantic foreign sobriquets he bestowed upon her, but it made her heart flutter all the same. Usually he reserved calling her Mrs. Addams for when they had company, and he never called her that directly it was simply a reference.

"This is my wife, Mrs. Addams."

"Mrs. Addams has a fine touch with carnivorous plants."

It sounded so lovely flowing from his charismatic voice. There was nothing quite like hearing the title leave her husband with such affection. It was polite to use her formal name, but it was also a subtle reminder that she was his. That's why she enjoyed it so much. To Gomez she was his dear, his sweet, his Cara Mia, his querida, his love. To the rest of the world, she was simply his.

Morticia gazed longingly at her lively husband, who was chatting away with their guests.

"Oh really? Mrs. Addams is a talented knitter! She has knit almost everyone in the family a sweater, no matter their shape or number of arms."

His eyes locked into hers briefly as he bragged, their hazel color sparkling with pride. She smiled at him, not acknowledging their guests, only her adoring husband. The woman asked her a question, to which Morticia gave a sweet yet short reply. Deciding that more refreshments were needed, Morticia stood to ring for Lurch. As she walked in front of Gomez's chair, his hands wrapped around her, pulling her into his lap. His cigar was clenched tightly between his teeth as his lips parted in a smug smile. Morticia was content in her new position, quickly forgetting her quest for Lurch. Gomez was warm against her, she could feel his heat penetrating her body. Strong legs supported her weight, her side leaned heavily against his broad chest. His arm was wrapped protectively around her, leaving his hand to rest across her stomach. He carried on with his conversation, oblivious to his guests' comfort with their hosts' intimate position. Morticia laid one hand on top of his, as the other gently stroked his cheek. Out of habit, he moved to kiss her wrist as she touched him.

Morticia barely heard the excuse the couple gave as they showed themselves out, but she did notice the squeeze Gomez gave her when they said it. After the door slammed shut, Gomez pulled her as close to him as possible.

"Tish, forgive me. I couldn't resist you any longer."

"Oh, Gomez."

She nuzzled his neck, the fresh cigar smoke filling her nostrils. Little kisses were being placed tenderly on his jawline.

"Cara Mia," he smiled as he stroked her long hair, letting his fingers linger over the curve of her breast that laid under the silky strands. Morticia looked up at him, large blue eyes full of love. His met hers with the same intensity. Without breaking their contact, he removed his cigar and leaned into her. Their eyes closed as their lips drew nearer to each other. His lips were soft and warm, but determined. He knew exactly how to make her swoon in his arms. Breathless, they deepened their kiss. Soft moans travelled up her throat, drawing attention to the un-kissed skin of her neck. Gomez was quick to move from her ruby lips to her pleading alabaster flesh. Desire pulsed through her body, making her dig further into his inviting lap. His hands were roaming up and down the side of her body, reveling in every curve that passed under her touch.

"Mmm, Morticia" he sighed, as if his favorite dish was just unveiled. As she stroked his face, he captured her left wrist in his grasp. He kissed each finger, before bringing it back to his cheek to rub them against his slight stubble. Her wedding ring scraped gently against his skin, he didn't seem to notice. She smiled, enjoying watching her husband take his time in loving her.

"Shall we go upstairs, Darling?" Her lust filled eyes, intensely stared at him conveying the command in the suggestion. In one swift motion, she was lifted in his arms. His lips crushed against hers once again, before pulling away to smile hungrily at her.

"Cara Mia, why wait until we get all the way up there? Let's go to the playroom, it's closer."

"What a wonderful idea, Mon Cher."