A/N: Warning: super smutty chapter ahead.
Just so you know.
(if you don't feel too embarrassed, please leave a review, I really appreciate them and they help me write, believe it or not)
Elsie stood hovered over a pan of slowly simmering water and she was just about to stir it and crack in an egg when she felt the strong arms of her husband snake around her waist. She shrugged them off.
"Can you not leave me in peace for more than a moment, Charles?" She scolded in exasperation.
"Just giving a you a goodmorning cuddle, dear." His answer came quietly, his voice rumbling like it always did, but it bothered Elsie. She was trying to poach an egg for the man, did he not see? And did he not know that cooking was not Elsie's forte?
"Just, get out of the kitchen." She didn't even look at him, returned to the water, picked up the egg and took a deep breath. She broke the shell on the edge of the pan and...
There his hand was, on her cheek and the egg just dropped in, forming a clump on the bottom of the pan.
"Charles! I told you to leave me alone! Look what you've done!" She turned on her heel, bumping into her husband, then pushed him away. "I do not want you in here! I am trying to make you breakfast and you make it impossible! Just... go into the garden or something."
There were ice flowers on the windows, a cold draft slipped through the cracks between the floorboards.
"I am not going into the garden, Elsie, love. It is far too cold." His calmth infuriated Elsie even further.
"I do not care where you go, I do not want you here. Leave me in peace to poach that... that... that stupid egg for you!"
Charles smirked a bit and left the kitchen and Elsie stood once again over the pan, stirred the water and slid in a new egg carefully. She stared at it, the white swirling around the yolk, her words ringing in her ears still.
She was still fuming, which puzzled her a little. Since their marriage, they had not yet fallen out. Back when they still lived at Downton, two separate units as it were, they fell out all the time, though not like this. She smiled a little when she thought how they would have fought if they had married long ago. They were both strong minded people. Strong willed. Opinionated and not always of the same opinion.
Last evening she had gone to visit Anna and had a talk with her. About the future. How she could not wait for Lady Mary to produce an heir to get her own life started. That she had given her youth to the Crawleys and there was no shame, no wrong, in wanting a life of your own. That if they could make the payments on the Downton Arms, they should do it. That they should start venturing out, start their new life together, without answering to anyone else. To start a family, now they still had the chance.
When she came home, Charles was already in bed, fast asleep. She had undressed and brushed out her hair and washed. She had crawled into bed and pressed herself against him, but he hadn't woken. She had felt rejected, though why was a mystery even to her. She couldn't expect a sleeping man to simply wake whenever his wife caressed his chest and carefully touched him there.
Now she was making his breakfast, she sniffed, toast was ready and she pulled it out of the oven. Only a few burnt edges. She didn't care, she didn't slice them off like she normally did. She made a pot of tea and brought everything to the table: the poached egg on a saucer, toast in the holder, a cup and the pot of tea. She gave the porridge a last stir. Hardly any lumps, she was quite proud of herself. She called out for Charles.
"Breakfast."
He came in with another wide smile and was to give her another cuddle, but she put her hands on his chest to keep him away from her.
He finally caught on and looked sufficiently puzzled.
"Elsie, you have been in a mood all morning. Whatever is the matter?" He sat down and picked up a piece of toast and buttered it.
Elsie glowered at him. "How can you possibly not know?!"
"Well, firstly you haven't said anything, so you are making me guess and my guesses, no matter how educated, never truly hit the spot with you. You are a very mysterious lady, Elsie Carson."
"I am? Funny, I always think of myself as completely see-through." She watched Charles cut into his egg and the yolk streamed over his toast. At least she had managed to poach an egg. Another difficult cooking task mastered.
"In some cases you are. But right now..." He took a sip of his tea. "Hmm... that hits the spot. That drink last night with Mr Worthing really hit the spot." He rubbed his forehead.
"What do you mean? Was Mr Worthing here?" Elsie had not noticed any sign of there having been a visitor in the house last night.
"Yes, he came over for a drink. He brought this eau-de-vie his son had taken with him from France. A rather potent drink..." He drank more tea. "Had Worthing halfway drunk by his first glass, so he decided to go home early and I managed to clear everything away and then to hoist myself into bed, but I am not touching that stuff ever again, I can tell you. Knocked me out cold. Never even noticed you coming ho-... home." He looked up from his plate, she could feel it, but she kept hers on her own plate.
"That's it, isn't it? You are upset that I didn't wake up."
Elsie fiddled with her knife. It sounded quite silly now. Having been so hurt by something so trivial. She nodded faintly.
"You daft girl..." Charles rose from his chair, slowly walked to where Elsie was sat.
"If I could have woken up, you know I would have. You know how I like to have you close to me when we fall asleep."
He gently pulled her up from the chair. The legs made a scratching sound over the floor and she looked at where the noise came from before turning back to Charles, whose eyes were twinkling. The back of his fingers softly stroked her cheek.
"Elsie..." His lips were on hers, a soft and gentle kiss. An apology, she knew. And she let him. She let him rub his strong hands over her back, she let him set a trail from her lips to her jaw to her neck and collarbone. She let him ghost his fingers over the swell of her breast as it showed over the collar of her dress.
Her hand found its way to the nape of his neck, touched the soft curls, pulled him closer, trapping his hand between them. He kissed her again, passionately, his tongue found hers, one arm wrapped around her waist after pulling it away, the other hiked up her skirt, felt its way over her stocking, along her leg. First on the outside of her knee, but slowly, agonizingly slowly, he let it run to the inside of her thighs, his index finger touched the seam of her knickers and she gasped.
He pressed her against the kitchen table, grabbed her plate and reached around her to put it on an unused chair.
"I am sorry..." he mumbled against her cheek. "If I had been awake... I would not have let you get into bed..." He undid her dress, helped her slip it down her arms. "I would have hold you close... and closer... and I would have delicately undressed you, like this, in the lounge and I would have touched you... everywhere..." His hands touched her breasts through her stays, pulled her close to him and his rumbles sent shivers down her spine. She forgot all about the poached egg, about the porridge still on the stove - she had turned it off, ever the careful one.
She grabbed onto his collar, pulled him so his lips are on hers again, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled his vest from his trousers. She wrapped her legs around him, holding herself steady between the table and him.
"Take me upstairs..." She breathed in his ear, almost unable to think as he nipped at the tender skin of her shoulder.
A smile appeared on his face, lighting up his eyes and she knew they would probably not make it there.
He was still so strong, even though he didn't carry crates of wine and champagne from the delivery cart to the cellars anymore. Must be all that gardening, she vaguely thought as he lifted her up and took her through to the lounge, where he gently put her down on the settee. Her legs still in the air, he took hold of her knickers and slid them down her legs, before kneeling before her and burying his face in her center, lapping at her core, making her squirm and pant.
Her hands found their way to the top of his head, slightly tugged at his hair. Her hips bucked, she whimpered when he stopped, got up from the floor and she left her place on the settee, slightly dizzy, but determined as she stood against him, so close. She could feel his desire high on her hip, the course tweed chafing a bit against her skin. She took a step, so he had to take one too. Another step while she undid his trousers and it fell down to the floor. Another as she dragged down his shorts, freeing his erection.
Another step, he was against the wall, she leant against him, put her arms around his neck, stood on her toes to kiss him and he put his arms around her waist and swiftly changed positions and she was trapped between him and the wall, a delicious closeness she never gets on the settee. He lifted her leg, held her thigh in his strong hand and positioned himself at her entrance. She longed for him, she felt the moistness of her centre leaking onto her thighs and she tried to move to feel him closer.
"Stop it..." She hissed and took his earlobe between her teeth and tugged before letting go. "Take me..." Her nails were scratching at his back. "Take me now..." Her voice was hoarse, her breathing came in short, laboured pants. He didn't tease her any longer and slid inside of her, slowly, in a long stroke. She cried out, almost ready to come right there. She had to find her bearings for a moment and then she put her other leg up and let him thrust.
After a few minutes she felt how he was tiring and she let herself down and took his hand.
"Come with me..." she said quietly and took him up the stairs into their room and laid down on top of the bedspread, her arms and legs wide open, welcoming him. He ran his hands over her stomach upwards and cupped her breasts as he took her again.
In bed everything was familiar. They knew exactly how to move to give the other the most pleasure. Elsie gave herself completely, her back arching as Charles hit an extra sensitive spot, her hands clawing at the sheets as he sped up the rhythm. She could hear how his climax was building and how he was holding back to give her the opportunity to come first, but she wasn't that close yet, so she nodded and she felt how he spent himself inside of her.
He carefully laid beside her, leaving her, but replacing his desire with his hand, stroking her, inserting one finger first, then two, bending them and her breath stuck in her throat before moaning loudly, pushing her ankles into the mattress, pulling the sheet loose it's perfect corners.
"Oh... Charles..." She almost croaked, unable to catch her breath as her orgasm washed over her, made her tense up and release in rapid succession and she laid there, completely spent and relaxed and softly stroked Charles' arm with her hand.
"You're forgiven..." She said and gave him a dazzling smile.
"I'm glad." He answered and crawled between the covers, held them open for her and she laid down beside him, her head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her.
"It's morning." She said.
"I need a nap." He said.
And they fell asleep, being woken by the winter's sun slipping through the window, tickling tickling their faces. They washed and dressed and she made lunch.
Egg and bacon sandwiches.
She was just pouring a cup of tea when someone knocked at the front door.
