For the lilacmermaid prompt: "Elizabeth is obsessed with being marked by Henry, and never likes to get to the point when all the bruises and bite marks have faded."
Elizabeth stands in front of the mirror, bra and pencil skirt in place, and examines her bare torso intently. She twists to get a better view of her back.
Henry walks up behind her and stops short. "Jesus." He reaches out and brushes his fingers over the smattering of bruises that decorate her hips and waist and back. "Did I do that to you?" he asks, hesitant and just a little bit horrified.
"We got a little carried away last night," she says, sounding amused.
"Oh my God. Babe, I... I don't know what to say."
"I do." She turns around. "I like it," she announces, and kisses him firmly on the mouth. When he still looks remorseful, she adds, "You didn't do anything wrong, Henry. If I didn't want it, I would tell you."
Unconvinced, he eyes the bruises on her body in the mirror's reflection. "Does it hurt?"
"Not in a bad way."
"Elizabeth—"
"You wore me out, so I'm a little sore," she reassures him, "but I'm not in pain like that." She steps around him and heads into the closet to finish getting dressed. From inside, she calls out, "Maybe tonight we can have a repeat performance."
"Maybe," he replies. He sounds a little quiet and she isn't sure if it's because of the walls or his guilt.
She emerges fully dressed, smoothing down her skirt, and goes over to give him another peck on the lips. His hands go to her waist automatically but only hovers there, not making contact with her body at all. "I'll see you later," she says.
"Have a good day babe."
/
A week passes and Elizabeth is disappointed to see that nearly all of the marks have faded from her body. They've been having sex nearly every night, but Henry has taken to being so gentle with her that she almost wants to scream. She isn't some delicate flower than can't withstand a little handling. She isn't sure how to bring that up with Henry, though.
When they retire to their room for the night, she has them both naked in about eight seconds flat and Henry isn't complaining, but he's definitely holding back. She'll have to pull out the big guns this time.
"I've been thinking about this all day," she says as she pushes him back toward the bed with purpose. She gets him flat on his back and straddles him. "I've been wet all day, thinking about how hard I want you to fuck me tonight."
"Yeah?" he grunts. His pupils are dilated and he looks like a man starved, the way he's drinking her in, but his hands still caress her like she's made of fine china.
She decides to try a more direct approach. "Henry," she says, catching one of his hands in hers. She guides it up to her throat and, in case he's still not getting it, squeezes firmly for good measure. "I need it hard."
He swallows.
"I wanna be bruised and sore by the time you're finished with me. I wanna feel you so deep that I won't be able to walk tomorrow." She leans in. "I wanna see your fingerprints around my neck and know that you own my body."
That's what does it.
Henry flips her over and tightens his grip around her neck. Just enough to make her pant. "Be careful what you wish for," he murmurs dangerously. He uses his other hand to pin her arms above her head. "We'll see what your little body can handle."