Thanks for sticking with me on this unexpected journey. I only anticipated this story to be a humorous one-shot, but my muse doesn't always agree with me- and sent my emotions on the roller coaster with Henry and Elizabeth. Your comments are much appreciated, and I'm thrilled you enjoyed this glimpse into the intimate moments of their marriage as much as I did.
Also, this chapter is very much M rated. The conclusion, however, is not, so you can scroll to the end for more hilarity from our favorite couple.
Henry lavished her breasts with his lips and tongue, teasing her nipples into hardened peaks, teeth closing gently over her flesh. His fingertips roamed lazily over her hips, grazing her inner thighs, but never touching her core. Elizabeth struggled to relax under his touch, tension still prickling her mind. Henry could sense her reluctance, and patiently waited for her to give in to the sensations, enjoying the feel of her skin under his hands. Gradually, she allowed the passion to seep into her body, melting into the desire between them. Only when her sighs finally turned to breathy moans did he draw back, shifting to his knees to rise above her.
Henry reached across the bed for the bottle, where he'd tossed it when he laid her back on the blankets. He noticed Elizabeth's eyes change, the hazy passion in the brilliant blue cooling with anxiety.
"Elizabeth," he whispered. Just her name. Henry brushed a hand along her leg, his strokes soothing now.
"You haven't touched me."
He almost replied that he had, but he knew what she meant. "I know. I don't want to know if you're wet. It doesn't matter. I'll show you why." As he spoke, he poured liquid onto his hand, eyes searching her face while he did. He capped the bottle, before setting it again to the side.
"We really need that pump, before I make a mess," he chuckled, softly. Her lips twitched slightly in response. Then he leaned down, touching his lips to the trail of dried tears on her cheekbones, before taking her mouth in a searing kiss. Henry slipped his hand between her legs as his tongue slid against hers, stealing her breath and forcing her thoughts on only him.
He stroked her slowly, gently, building up the pleasure as he worshiped her body. The clouds of apprehension in her eyes began to slowly fade under his touch. His fingers grazed her heat, dipping inside, teasing her. Her eyelids fluttered closed, then opened again, the glacier blue deepening as he drove her closer to the edge. Henry knew when Elizabeth surrendered to the bliss; her face relaxed and hands unclenched, reaching out to him. Henry didn't realize how much he longed for her touch, or needed a physical reminder that she wanted him, until that moment. Her fingers ghosted over his skin, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.
When Elizabeth moaned his name, he paused over her clit, pressing, caressing until her hips began to writhe against his hand. Henry increased the pressure, the speed of his fingers, insistently pushing her to climax. He was almost desperate to bring her to completion, to forge their connection again, in spite of the challenges they'd faced together. Suddenly, Elizabeth shuddered as the pleasure consumed her body, and her mind. Her nails dug into his thigh as she arched against his hand with a sharp cry.
Through the fog of passion, Elizabeth heard his voice, as his movements against her stilled. When her gaze met his again, he was stroking himself. His eyes, dark with lust, never left hers, as his hands pumped his shaft, glistening with wetness. From her or the lube, she didn't know. And suddenly didn't care.
"Does this turn you off?" His voice was almost a growl, low with desire.
"What?" she whispered, hazily. Elizabeth blinked once, twice, forcing her brain to focus through the need pulsing in her veins. The air felt thick and warm, their ragged breathing echoing in the quiet.
"I've used the lube, on both of us. Does this turn you off?" he repeated. His thumb passed over the tip of his penis, and he began to thrust into his fist.
"God, no. You're… that's so hot," she gasped.
"This is what matters, Elizabeth. Nothing else. Just us." He reached down and slid his fingers into her body, slick and wet, stroking her in rhythm with his hand on his erection. Elizabeth whimpered, her hips jerking in response.
"Do you want me?"
She bit her lip, nodding. He plunged his fingers deeper, curling them slightly, sparking the nerves deep within her. "Yeess," she hissed.
"Tell me," he implored, his eyes boring into hers.
"I want you, Henry."
Her eyes were cloudy blue now, all traces of tension gone, and the need in her voice unraveled his last shred of control. He lowered himself to her, nestling his body into the cradle of her thighs, bracing himself on his elbows. Her nipples pressed against his chest, and her hands slid around his back, nails trailing his spine. His hardness brushed her clit, and his throaty moan was her undoing.
Her legs fell apart, one knee raised to his armpit, the arch of her other foot grazing his calf, opening herself for him. "Please," Elizabeth begged. "Take me."
He did. Hard and hot, he filled her to bursting, and held there, watching her eyes glaze over with pleasure before she threw her head back. He cupped his hands under her shoulder blades, drawing her even closer to him, and laid his lips at her throat. In that moment, Henry swore he could feel her heartbeat in his chest. He waited until her eyes met his again. As the love melted that brilliant blue, he began to thrust.
Henry moved slowly within her, in a steady solid rhythm, echoing the pounding of his own heart. He wanted to show her as much love as passion, reminding her of what they could bring to each other, with each other. Elizabeth was exquisite, and beautiful and his, and always would be, and he needed to prove to her those indelible truths.
Elizabeth slid her hands into his hair, her fingers gently toiling through the short strands. The tenderness in their lovemaking filled her heart, chasing away the last tendrils of doubt and worry. She drew his face down to hers, so she could reach his lips. Her kisses were soft, almost soothing, a distinct counterpoint to the pressure steadily building low in her belly. Then that pressure exploded into searing heat as Henry shifted the angle of his hips, his pelvis grazing her clit as he buried himself deep inside her.
Her climax rippled through her like a wave, and Elizabeth tightened her thighs around his waist, clinging to his shoulders. When she gasped and stiffened under him, Henry buried his head in the crook of her neck and surrendered to his own orgasm.
Henry drew Elizabeth back onto his chest, tucking his chin on her shoulder, as his lips nibbled on her jawline. "You good now, babe?" His voice rumbled, warm and sated, in her ear.
"Mmmhmmm. Yes, more than," she purred. She brought their joined hands to her lips, peppering kisses over his knuckles, and tangled her legs with his.
He squeezed her fingers. "You're not just saying that?" His voice held a hint of doubt.
"No, I'm not." Now came her turn to reassure him. Elizabeth tilted her head so she could meet his gaze. "You were right." She kissed him softly, brushing his cheekbone with her free hand. "Using the lube didn't change anything." Her limbs twitched in memory as she continued. "I will always want to be with you."
Henry's eyes darkened briefly at her words. "You can use it, next time." He nipped her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, gently. "You know I enjoy watching you touch yourself," he murmured against her lips.
The desire Elizabeth thought was satisfied flared again in her belly. She whimpered slightly as Henry lifted his head. "The orgasms were just as good," she confirmed. Elizabeth rubbed her thumb over his still-wet fingers and snorted. "And sex is just as messy."
Henry chuckled in response. "Want to try that shower now?" he suggested. He leaned his head into her hand as her fingers continued to lightly trace his features.
"Ha. Maybe. But only to clean up," she clarified. Elizabeth shifted her body to face him, pulling their joined hands in front of her.
He nodded, smirking slightly. "We'll save that one for another day."
Elizabeth's tone turned serious. Her hand cupped his jaw. "I'm sorry I got so upset." Her eyes were steady on his, all traces of her earlier anguish faded from the crystal blue.
"You don't have to apologize to me, babe," Henry soothed her. "I'm glad you still care. I'm glad you still want me. We've obviously both had reservations talking about our issues with sex," he acknowledged.
"It's easy to talk about when it's good. It's harder when it's not," Elizabeth agreed, snickering at her own pun.
Henry reached behind him for the bottle of lube, leaning back over Elizabeth to set it on the nightstand. "So, are you looking at that a little bit differently, now?" He kissed her shoulder, and propped himself up on an elbow.
"Yeah," Elizabeth admitted, albeit grudgingly. "But I don't think we should leave it out on the nightstand." She shrugged a shoulder as she rolled to her side again and settled back against his chest. "I'm not ready to advertise our sex life to my detail every time they sweep the house, even if they'll see it, anyway." She paused, considering. "This is like a flashing marquee."
"That bottle is admittedly impressive," Henry replied. He ran a hand down her side, tickling her ribs. "Sure you don't want to give it a place of honor?"
Elizabeth giggled. "What, like a precious statue or something?"
"I've got a precious statue for you," Henry grinned, pressing his hips into her butt, tightening his hand on her waist to hold her against him.
"Oh my God, you didn't just say that?" Elizabeth gasped, incredulously, her shock quickly giving way to amusement. "Henry, your come-on lines are still ridiculous."
As his wife's unbridled laughter rang through their bedroom, Henry held her tightly, cherishing the joy they could always find in each other.