August's prompt: 'you're the only one I can turn to for help'

Note: This chapter is M rated

Italicized words are taken directly from S2 Ep2

He saw her as he came out of the library, her features twisted with displeasure and her head angled down as she stalked through the Great Hall. After a moment's hesitation, he followed her— up the stairs and down the corridor to her room. Peering through the cracked bedroom door, he watched the way she irritatedly tossed her purse and coat on the nearby chair, the way she lowered herself onto her dressing table chair. He took note of her sigh as she began the process of removing her hat, observing how she cast it away from her once it was free of her head. Her every movement spoke to the pique she didn't voice.

Lightly, he tapped his fingertips on the door and crossed the threshold. Their gazes met in the glass's reflection and she turned to face him.

"What's the matter?" he asked gently, slowly approaching her.

She huffed a sigh and shook her head, looking down at her hands. "Nothing."

Glancing from her to the corner of the room where her discarded hat now lay and back again, he pursed his lips and arched his brow in incredulity. But she remained silent.

Coming to a quick decision, he walked back to the bedroom door and closed it, clicking the lock into place. Her eyes snapped up and she looked at him in questioning surprise. Instead of answering her, he gestured for her to stand, which she did after a thoughtful pause.

He began with the belt on her suit coat, moving to the hidden hook-and-eyes once the strip of fabric had been removed.

"What are—"

Silencing her with a quick press of his lips to hers, he regarded her and, when he saw no objection in her gaze, he continued. Gently, he slid the coat from her shoulders and laid it across the foot of the chaise. Her blouse, skirt, and corset soon followed and were placed beside her suit coat. Kneeling before her, he then set about divesting her of her shoes and stockings. Now that she was clad only in her chemise, he gestured for her to climb onto the bed and get comfortable while he discarded his boots and uniform jacket. He then removed his tie and rolled up his sleeves before joining her.

She had stretched out on her stomach, laying towards the foot of the bed. Her eyes were closed and her head was pillowed on her folded arms. Bringing his hands to the tops of her shoulders, he began massaging and kneading the taut muscles. She sighed in contentment and snuggled further into the mattress. Beneath his hands, he could feel her start to relax, the strain of whatever was bothering her melting away. He worked and palpated his way down to the small of her back, reveling in the gentle noises he was able to elicit from her. They intoxicated him and he soon forgot why he had decided to give her a massage in the first place. His mind was consumed with her and only her. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the soft skin between her shoulder blades. Another contented sigh blew past her slightly parted lips, trailing off into a soft purr of pleasure.

"Darling," she suspired, ever so slightly arching her back to meet his hands.

It was several more minutes before she spoke again, her voice low, but regaining her previous irritation as she spoke. "It's Dr. Clarkson," she began, answering his earlier question. "I asked him for a small favor, but he refused to even try."

He made a noncommittal sound in response, his powers of speech having completely abandoned him.

She rolled onto her side and looked up at him. The neck of her chemise had slipped down her chest, giving him the most tantalizing view. Not wanting to be caught shamelessly ogling her, he raised his gaze and noticed several of her dark ringlets had escaped her intricate coiffure and had spiraled down to frame her face. But it was her glittering sapphire eyes that captured him and he found himself drowning in their intense regard.

"I hate to ask this, but you're the only one I can turn to for help. Do you think that you could possibly—"

Gently cupping her face between his hands, he pressed his lips to hers, cutting off the rest of her thought. To his elation, she met his kiss with equal passion as she reached up and clutched him to her. He groaned at the feeling of her pressed to him. Sliding his mouth from hers, he trailed his lips down her neck, nipping and sucking the delicate skin he found.

Murmuring in appreciation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and locked him into place. Her intoxicating scent filled his nostrils, the headiness driving him to near madness as he continued his worship of her neck. Sliding his hands up into her hair, he carded his fingers through the luxurious strands, blindly removing the multitude of pins and absentmindedly tossing them to the floor. When the coiled ribbons of chocolate tumbled free, he sat back to admire her, his gaze raking over the love bitten skin of her neck, her flushed cheeks, and kiss swollen lips. He watched as she breathed deeply, her darkened concupiscent eyes locked on his.

"Oh Cora," he whispered, her name a prayer on his lips.

Sitting up, she rested her hand on his cheek, her soft, delicate lips brushing over his. "Robert," she murmured, the corners of her mouth turned up into a gentle smile.

In a sudden movement, he scooped her up and held her to his chest. Her responding laugh of surprise dissolved into a low moan when he began to bathe her décolletage in dewy kisses, his hand coming around to palm her breast through the thin material of her chemise. She squirmed against him, her hips rolling into him in a most delicious manner.

He was so consumed with the adoration of the silken skin of her chest that he failed to notice her deft removal of his shirt and braces. That was, until she unfastened the front of his trousers and closed her hand around him.

"Cora!" he choked in surprise, looking down into her smiling countenance and sparkling, mischievous eyes.

"Yes darling?" she asked innocently, nuzzling her nose with his.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and breathed deeply through his nose, his hips involuntarily rocking into her hand. The temptation to entirely lose himself in the pleasure she elicited from him was intense. But he wanted this to be about her. He wanted to spoil her. Worship her. Savor every noise and every movement she made against him. He wanted them joined together in a way they hadn't been in a long time. Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he gently pulled her hand away. Hungrily pressing his mouth to hers, he enfolded her in his arms and brought her to lie beneath him.

Pushing her chemise up her legs, he skillfully removed her drawers while his lips descended down her body. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he glanced up to meet her glittering gaze. With a devilish grin, he disappeared beneath the hem of her chemise. Her responding guttural groan reverberated against his own, her fingers instantly twisting into his hair and holding his head in place. Delighting in the wanton sounds he drew from her throat, he skillfully worked his lips over her, rapidly driving her to the edge.

She shattered beneath him, his name a desperate cry on her lips. Barely giving her a chance to catch her breath, he set about bringing her pleasure again. He continued to stroke and lap her heated and sensitive flesh and she quickly found bliss a second time. But before he could send her into oblivion for a third time, she tugged on his hair in a decided manner. When his eyes met hers, she beckoned him to her, pulling at him until he way laying evenly with her.

"Together," she whispered.

"Together," he agreed.

Caressing her face with the back of his hand, he kissed her cheek, forehead, and lips as he skimmed his fingertips down her side and hip, stopping when he reached the bend of her knee. He hooked her leg around his waist and gazed into her eyes for permission, which he received in the form of a kiss. Slowly, so she had time to adjust, he immersed himself in her waiting heat, their groans of pleasure intermingling as the press of their lips deepened into an ardent kiss. Feeling her relax under him and hearing her tell-tale sigh, he began to rock into her, setting a steady and gratifying pace.

The sight of her and the way she looked at him with such love and tenderness caused a large rush of warmth to flood through him. They had been at odds with each other so often lately, that it was easy to forget just how much he loved her, just how much she meant to him. He had always marveled that after so many years they could still feel such intense and all consuming love and passion for each other. But seeing she could still gaze upon him with such affection after everything they had been dealt, caused him to falter, an unnamed emotion lodging itself in his throat.

Noticing his abrupt change in demeanor, she reached up and tenderly stroked her fingers through his hair. "My Robert," she whispered, her lips pulled into a soft smile.

He caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing kisses to her knuckles, fingertips, and palm. Linking their fingers together, he brought her hand over her head and kept it in his grasp, needing to connect to her in a different manner as he began to press into her once again.

His pace started to increase and he watched, enthralled, as she writhed and undulated under him, cries and gasps of pleasure pouring from her throat. As she neared the edge, her grip on his hand tightened and she kneaded his palm with her own. She was trying to wait for him, straining to share her release with him. But she needn't have worried. After seeing her reach pleasure twice, he was already cresting the edge himself.

"Robert, I…"

Gliding his free hand down her flushed form, he sought out the sensitive place just above their joining and stroked the tips of his fingers over her. "Just let go, my darling," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the small space beside her ear.

Her hand clamped around his as she tumbled into euphoria, her legs tightening around him and locking him against her. The sensation, coupled with the feeling of her hips rolling into his, sent him careening over the edge right after her.

They lay together, their breathing more akin to panting. Becoming aware of his weight fully pressing against her, he moved to the side and reclined next to her, their hands still entwined between them. As his heart rate and breathing began to even out, he looked over at her. The motion caught her attention and she met his gaze, her eyes heavy lidded and sparkling with satisfaction.

Rolling over to curl up against him, she pillowed her head on his chest. "Oh, darling," she sighed.

Shifting onto his side, he cradled her against him and ran his hand up her back and into her hair, combing his fingers through the passion mussed coils. She purred in appreciation and snuggled more fully into him, her body becoming weighted with sleep. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he tightened his hold on her and followed her into the land of slumber.

He woke some time later, feeling slightly disoriented. But the sensation of her still wrapped around him in sleep brought everything back and he smiled. Squeezing her to him, he planted several kisses into her hair, his heart close to bursting with love for her. Yes, things had been strained lately. Their inability to see eye to eye on the subject of the war had placed a wedge between them that neither wanted to acknowledge. But despite it all, there was nothing he wouldn't do for her.

Recalling what she had begun to say before they had become lost in each other, he brought their still joined hands up and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, before reluctantly easing himself from her hold and sliding out of bed. For a moment he watched her, hoping he hadn't disturbed her peaceful repose. Sighing with relief when she didn't stir, he draped his side of the quilt over her and brushed his lips across her forehead.

Quickly redressing, he silently left the room. He was unaware of the hour, but thought he should have just enough time to get his message sent before the gong. However, it was not to be. Right as he crossed the landing, he saw Carson at the golden disk, mallet in hand, preparing to signal the house that it was time to change for the evening. Acknowledging the butler with a nod, he continued through the Great Hall.

The library was empty when he entered. Seating himself at his desk, he pulled out a slip of paper and wrote a quick note to Dr. Clarkson. He didn't know what she had asked of the doctor. But knowing her as he did, he knew the request wouldn't have been something unreasonable and he found himself irritated on her behalf. How could Clarkson say no to someone so sweet and kind, who rarely asked for things for herself?

Satisfied with his efforts, he sealed and addressed the note. Moving over to the bell pull, he tugged on the strip of fabric. A hall boy appeared a few moments later and he instructed the lad to run the note down to the hospital immediately.

With the task complete, he left the library. But before he went up to change, he wanted to make a telephone call to the war office to see if there was any news about Mrs. Patmore's nephew that he could relay. Receiving no new information, he returned the earpiece to the hook and headed upstairs to dress for dinner.

Passing by her room, he decided to look in and inform her of his actions, hoping it would spare her anymore frustration on the subject. He rapped his knuckles against the wood and opened the door.

His breath lodged in his throat when he saw her. How O'Brien already had her dressed and her hair coiffed to perfection, he had no idea. But she looked so utterly captivating he momentarily forgot why he had knocked on her door.

Having heard him enter, she had immediately turned away from her dressing table and towards him, her face expectant. It was unusual for him to appear when O'Brien was still dressing her.

"I'm off to change," he announced somewhat lamely, his thoughts still jumbled. "But I wanted you to know I sent a note down to Clarkson which should do the trick."

She looked thoroughly and pleasantly surprised by his pronouncement and regarded him with poorly concealed eagerness. "What did you say?" she asked, bringing her hand to rest against the back of her chair.

"Only that I gathered you'd asked a favor," he answered. "And given the estate shoulders the hospital costs, it did seem a little unfair if we weren't allowed a few perks."

Delight painted her features, but it was the lingering satisfaction in her eyes and smile that made him unable to keep the proud smirk off his face. If only O'Brien wasn't still in the room…

"Quite right," she answered softly, before her tone took on a double meaning, "Thank you, darling."

Exchanging a knowing look with her, he slipped back into the hall and continued down the corridor to his dressing room.