Happy New Year, everyone. Wishing you all peace, good health, and an abundance of joy and laughter this year. This chapter is definitely M-rated. Also, I added a little more to Chapter 9 last night as I thought it needed a little more detail, so you might want to go back and reread that though the changes don't affect the story at all. I hope you've enjoyed reading this fic as much as I've enjoyed writing it. A big thank you to those of you who have reviewed. Your feedback and encouragement is very much appreciated. Cheers, S.C.

Three months later

She surfaces to find herself wrapped snugly in her husband's arms, delightfully warm and contented, his body spooned around her. She smiles in joy, suppressing the sigh of pure bliss that wants to escape her as she listens to his gentle snores that tell her he's still sleeping. It's Sunday today, she thinks lazily, not that it makes much difference any more, but she likes to keep track of the days all the same.

Sundays are good days for them. They'll get up in a little while, around nine or sometimes ten if Harry's feeling particularly amorous this morning. Then Harry will have a shower and get dressed before going into the kitchen to get started on breakfast – a full English breakfast that he loves so much. It's the only day of the week she'll let him have it, and though he grumbles about it, claiming that it's probably too late for him to worry about that anyway, she knows he likes the fact that she cares enough to insist and not let him make exceptions all the time. So while Harry's making breakfast, she'll have a nice, hot bath and Harry will very sweetly bring her a cup of tea to sip while she soaks in her bubble-bath, telling her how beautiful she looks and how happy he is to have her here with him. He's very affectionate and vocal in his expressions of love now when they're at home, and even in public he'll hold her hand and kiss her cheek, and if they're in a secluded spot, he'll often steal a proper snog or several.

He'll call her when breakfast's ready, so she'll get out of the tub and dry herself, slipping into her robe and joining him in the kitchen where they'll enjoy planning which walk they'll take this afternoon and do the crossword in the paper together before dividing it in two and reading it over a second cup of tea, sharing little snippets of information with each other that they find interesting or amusing. After they're done eating, she'll wash and he'll dry the dishes, and then the rest of the morning will be spent doing their hobbies. Harry will be in his workshop making baby toys, and she'll be in the garden or knitting something for Nicolas, who should be making an appearance any day now.

She's really looking forward to becoming a grandmother and she's very grateful that Catherine has been so ready to welcome her. Just last week when she and her partner, Alexandre, had visited for a couple of days, she'd explained that she loves to see her father so happy and she knows it's because of her, because they're together. And they are very happy together, and the honeymoon period is most definitely not over for them yet. Some days, she doubts it ever will be, such is the joy they both experience from being together. She imagines that it's because they're aware of how fleeting life can be and are determined to enjoy every moment in each other's company. They've had a few disagreements, and as they're both extremely stubborn and rather passionate, they know that the danger of them having a full blown argument is rather high. But so far, they've both managed to maintain their cool, and if she feels close to losing her temper, she goes outside to weed the vegetable patch, her addition to their garden, whereas Harry opts for long walks to clear his head.

He mumbles something in his sleep and she feels his arm tighten around her before he relaxes again and his hand slips down from her shoulder and comes to rest over her right breast. She smiles, suspecting that he's waking up, and sure enough, she feels other parts of him begin to stir and harden, stretching her deliciously already. "Mmmm," he hums as he comes round, mumbling, "Good morning, my gorgeous wife," before pressing kisses against the back of her neck and shoulder, working his way up to the very sensitive spot just behind her ear.

"Oh," she sighs softly, pressing herself against him. "It was a good morning when you woke me the first time," she murmurs. "This time, it's a wonderful morning."

He chuckles softly, pressing his pelvis forwards towards her, slipping deeper inside her and making her moan. "It appears I've exhausted you, my love," he smiles. "You didn't move at all during our nap. I'm still nestled snugly inside you."

"I know," she replies reaching her hand back to stoke his side. "It's one of my favourite things about you."

"What is?" he murmurs against her neck.

"Your considerable length even when you're... soft," she smiles and hears him chuckle. "It was wonderful to wake up and find you still inside me."

"It was," he whispers, lifting himself onto his right forearm so he can lean over her shoulder and capture her lips with his. "It's made me want you all over again."

"Mmmm. I can tell," she smiles, running her hand through his hair and pulling him down for another kiss.

He responds eagerly, stroking her lips with his tongue until she opens her mouth, deepening their kiss, and they both moan in pleasure as their tongues find each other and begin to dance together. She can feel him harden even more inside her until he's incredibly thick and rigid, and as she squeezes him tightly, she feels him begin to gently slip in and out of her in response, sending jolts of pleasure through her already molten core. His hand's still cupping her right breast, squeezing and releasing it in rhythm with his slow thrusts and she can already feel her orgasm building quickly inside her.

He's been true to his word and their love making has always been infused with a passion the likes of which she's never experienced before, but what she finds even more amazing than that is his skill as a lover. The speed with which he's learnt what gives her pleasure and the way he seems to be able to read her perfectly is truly incredible, knowing intuitively when she needs slow gourmet sex and when she wants a quick, desperate fuck, or when she desires a leisurely pace and when he needs to speed up.

"Harry," she pants as he releases her lips and bites her shoulder in just the way she likes it, speeding up a little, knowing she's close to the edge now. She pulls his head down towards her, her other hand slipping over his as he continues to squeeze her breast. "Harry," she moans again, the tension building inside her, bringing her nearer to the peak and making her begin to see stars.

"Come, my love," he growls near her ear before he licks and sucks her earlobe and then plunges his tongue into her ear canal as his hand squeezes her breast, his thumb pinching her nipple and he trusts into her hard, his cock even firmer and thicker than before, propelling her straight over the edge and into oblivion. Her whole body convulses with the intensity of her climax, the tingling spreading out from her core to every part of her as she moans her release and feels all her muscles tense for a moment and then relax, turning to jelly. She feels him pull out of her then and roll her onto her back before he lowers himself on top her, nudging her legs apart and slipping inside her once more, murmuring, "I love to watch you come, my Ruth. You're exquisite."

He kisses her lips softly and she somehow finds the energy to kiss him back, murmuring, "God, Harry. That was... magical." He chuckles softly and begins to move again, making her groan at the sparks of pleasure that he ignites inside her. "I can't do this again," she gasps, forcing her eyes open to look at him.

"Are you sure?" he smiles, pressing into her a little faster and making her gasp.

"My God," she moans as the sparks inside her multiply and spread all over, joining forces and creating a current of intense energy that twists inside her and swiftly propels her towards another peak.

"Not quite," he teases, "I'm just a man, Ruth."

She smiles and then moans in pleasure, gasping, "Not just... much more than that. You're my man. My wonderful husband."

"That's right," he pants, "Yours, all yours... always yours." He moans as he speeds up again and she can tell that he's close to his own climax now. "Ruth," he groans, gripping her shoulders with his hands and slamming into her deepest part a few more times before he stills and roars his release. And as she feels his cock twitch inside her and his hot semen spill into her most secret place, her own orgasm overtakes her and she cries out with the intensity of it. He resumes his motion then, pushing into her a few more times as he sucks on her earlobe and whispers his love for her, helping her ride the wave of her pleasure for what seems like an eternity before they both still and he collapses on his side beside her, his spent cock sliding out of her and coming to rest against her thigh, his arm draped across her abdomen and his hand gently cupping her breast. "I love you," he murmurs and presses his lips against her shoulder before she hears him sigh in contentment and she hums in response, unable to muster the energy for anything more as she smiles softly and slowly drifts back to sleep.

When they surface from their second, shorter nap of the morning, he sighs happily, pulling her close and kissing her temple tenderly. "Good morning, my Ruth," he smiles and she laughs, burrowing further into his side.

"A bloody brilliant morning, I'd say," she mumbles, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

"It will be," he agrees, "after I've made breakfast. I'm starved and it's full breakfast day today."

"I know," she smiles as she turns to look at him, kissing his shoulder and delighting in the big grin she finds spreading across his face. "I love you. D' you know that?"

"I do," he nods.

"Good," she replies and sits up, swinging her legs out of bed. "Race you to the loo," she adds with a grin as she stands and dashes into the en-suite while he looks on with great pleasure, enjoying her beautiful body so wonderfully on display.

"Race? What race?" he calls after her, getting up and making the bed before he follows her into the bathroom. "Surely you mean a very slow dawdle," he objects, "because I'm hardly capable of anything else after what we've just done this morning... twice, I might add."

"Proud of yourself, are you?" she teases, her eyes raking over him appreciatively in a way that lets him know just how attractive she finds him and never ceases to amaze him.

"A little," he grins. "I thought I did pretty well for an almost sixty-year-old man with a dodgy knee and a much younger wife to satisfy."

"Oh, you did much better than that, Harry," she smiles, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him softly. "You'd put most men to shame by comparison."

"Thank you," he murmurs, feeling his chest expand with pleasure at the compliment. "I love you," he whispers and captures her lips in a soft, luxurious kiss. When he pulls back to look at her, she's smiling, her dimples coming out in full force and her eyes sparkling with love. She opens her mouth to speak, but just then, his stomach growls rather loudly, making her eyes widen in surprise for a moment before she bursts out laughing. He chuckles as he murmurs an apology, adding, "I think that's my cue to get moving; breakfast won't make itself."

"No, indeed," she agrees as she kisses his cheek and turns towards the sink to brush her teeth. "You might even have to make double the quantity so we can get our strength back," she winks.

"Now that's the best idea you've had all week," he smiles in delight, knowing that life just can't get much better than this.