TRADITION

Disclaimer: I own nothing

This is my first truly M-rated fanfic so I hope you like it and please tell me what you think

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"How was court?" Peter asked as he entered the kitchen, carrying wine and Chinese food. It had become somewhat of a tradition for the two of them on Friday nights when Zack was out with friends and Grace was at youth group.

"Shit," she muttered. She was slumped over the kitchen counter wondering why she had ever decided to leave and start a new firm. She could have been managing partner. She could still have Will.

Peter looked up. It was the first time since leaving Lockhart&Gardner that his wife hadn't looked ready to kick ass. Instead, she looked rather tired and exhausted.

"Wine?" He suggested, "or something stronger?"

"We can start on wine."

Peter extracted two glasses from the cupboard, filled them, then turned around to out the bottle on the other counter. When he turned back, Alicia was just finishing the last drop in her cup.

"That bad?"

She nodded.

"Want to tell me about it?"

"Not really."

Alicia took Peter's glass and drained it too. She took no notice of the smoky full-bodied flavor which had cost Peter a pretty penny. She was more interested in drowning her sorrows. Most days she could tell herself it was fine, that she was doing good work and it was great, but others, the cold words Will said to her stung and made her want to curl up and cry. But she wasn't the type prone to hysteria and wallowing. She dealt with her pain and grief in different ways.

She stood and kissed her husband with the longing she felt, although she wasn't entirely sure it was directed at him. Nonetheless, she wasn't in the mood to be asking herself questions. She ripped at Peter's shirt but, finding it too difficult to remove, decided to go just for his pants. Peter, understanding her urgency, stopped trying to undo her dress and instead just pulled up her skirt, fingers only briefly stopping on their trail up her thighs when they reached her garters. There was nothing sexier, he mused. And it certainly made things easier. He pulled aside her panties, of the lacy variety, and plunged his fingers inside her. She was moist and warm and ready.

"Oh Peter," she moaned, rocking against his fingers and riding the waves of pleasure they were bringing her. She arched her back and let her head drop, revealing her slim neck. Peter jumped at the opportunity and pressed his lips against the pulse that leaped against her skin, sucking and biting, tasting her deliciousness.

He removed her fingers from her and propped her up on the kitchen counter. She grabbed him and, with skill and efficiency, directed him inside of her. She moaned again as his girth stretched her. Peter replaced his lips on her neck as he began to rock her on his cock. Soon they were moving together rhythmically. Alicia's eyes had glazed over with the join effect of the alcohol and passion.

Soon Alicia was arching her back, tightening her legs around her husband. The feel of his lips on her neck, his cock deep inside her, had her rising towards her climax. Peter bit down on her neck. "Not yet." He told her, yet he pushed her skirt up higher so that his fingers could find their way to her clit. Alicia's hand fisted in his hair.

"Peter, I... I'm... Oh God!"

"Not yet," he told her more sternly. He broke his lips away from her neck and looked into her dark eyes. She looked so desperate, so very much on the edge. How and why had he ever strayed? He had the perfect woman right here. They held eye contact as they continued to move. Peter rubbed his fingers in circular motions and he heard and saw her breath catch.

"Please Peter," she begged.

"Not. Yet."

Alicia managed another few seconds then moaned. "Please!"

Peter removed his finger from her and pulled her against him. He grabbed at her hair and her clothes as he plunged himself into her, taking her violently.

"I..." Alicia moaned. Peter's mouth covered hers before she could say anymore. He knew she was ready and knew he wasn't too far behind. She began to shudder and shake and gripped him as hard as she possibly could, her warmth tightening its grip on his cock. It was enough to send him over the edge. He held onto her tight as the warm waves of orgasm traveled through them.

Alicia lay back on the island of the kitchen as she panted. Her head was pleasantly clear and the world had managed to level itself out so that it didn't seem as if she were standing at the foot of a very high mountain that she had to climb. She was almost asleep there when she felt her legs being pulled apart once more, fingers tracing her bare skin at the top of her stockings. Her legs were pushed together as her panties were pulled from her legs. She sighed and laid back.

When her legs were pulled apart once more, Peter's calloused fingers ran over her sensitive clit. She shivered. Peter's fingers sunk easily into her warmth, first one, then two, then three. Then his mouth started sucking on her clit.

"Peter," she murmured.

He made a noise of recognition but it was hard to make out being that his mouth was currently deep in her warm folds. The vibrations of his recognition ran through her. His tongue, she mused, was truly marvelous. She reached down to rake her fingers through her hair and quickly founded herself racing towards her peak once again.

"Peter," she said, louder this time.

He was working fast, enjoying the taste of his wife mixed with him. She was so sweet, so delicious. His tongue licked up her and circled her clit. Her hands pushed his face into her as she got closer and closer. He felt her legs tighten around his head and keep going. Finally, he scrapped his teeth over her clit, every so lightly. And the floodgates lifted.

"Peter," she screamed.

He didn't stop, pushing her on and on. Her back arched against the counter, her fingers pulled at his hair. He licked her up.

"Peter," she murmured, lying on the counter. He stood and made his way to the bottle of wine. Slowly, and as if they had not just done as they had, he poured them each another glass. When he took a sip, it was with a broad grin on his face as he observed his wife, pleasantly ravaged, lying on the bench, skirt crunched up at the waist, panties flung aside, hair looking decidedly as if she had just gotten out of bed. Damn he loved her.

He raised her glass to her in question.

"Yes please," she managed.

Alicia stood, a little weak at the knees, and stalked over to talk the glass of wine from her husband's hand. This time, she noticed the flavor and texture as it slid smoothly down her throat. An expensive bottle, she mused. But then, she was the First Lady of Illinois now, she deserved expensive wine. She savored it, licking her lips slowly. They stood in silence and then they met each other's eyes. Peter's smirk was obvious and Alicia couldn't help but laugh.

"You have an amazing laugh," he informed her.

"So I've been told," she smiled back.

It was so surprisingly nice, she thought, to be standing in her kitchen with the man she had married, drinking wine and laughing. Not to mention sex against and on the kitchen island.

"Do you want to tell me about today?" He asked. Alicia scanned his face for hidden motives but found none. She liked to think she become an expert at reading her husband, now that she was aware of all the horrible things he had done in the past. And funnily enough, knowing all the horrible things he had done made her a lot more comfortable with him. It was as if she finally knew the real him and, though it sometimes surprised her, she loved him.

"Not really," she sighed then rolled her eyes. "We're losing."

"Against Will?"

"And Diane," she said pointedly.

"Anything I can do?"

Alicia looked at him and knew he was serious. She took another sip of her wine. "No," she sighed.

"Alicia."

"Peter," she repeated his tone mockingly. "Seriously, there's nothing you can do. You can't keep on stepping in to save me."

"What are husband's for?"

"Honestly Peter? You can't. I don't want you to end up in prison again."

He could see the true worry in her eyes and it made him smile. A few years ago she would have been glad to see him back in a jail cell. "I won't, I'll have you to represent me."

"Peter," Alicia scorned.

"I want to help you," Peter told her, all too kindly. He took her glass from her and placed it next to his on the counter, then took her hand.

"I know," she sighed. She felt a pleasant warmth in her heart that she knew wasn't from the wine. Peter's other hand reached up to cup her head. She leaned into it and near purred.

"I love you Alicia," he told her. His voice was soft, and kind, and filled with insecurities that hadn't been there before. Alicia looked I to his eyes, usually dark and dangerous but looking decidedly loving. She didn't doubt it was true. And it made her heart ache for him.

"I love you too," she said finally.

This time when they kissed, it was soft and tender.

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TA DA! I hope you liked it!

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