Luckiest Englishman Alive - M.H. (Young Sherlock)
Rating: 18+ Only Word Count: 6.1k
Summary: You, Mycroft's wife, appreciate how devoted Mycroft is to his job and to Sherlock. You are not bitter nor resentful, merely missing the arms of the man you fell in love with. Once some difficult truths are revealed, Mycroft is only too happy to pleasure you in the way that you've been missing.
Content: Angst, crying, comfort, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, body worship, breast worship, reader is described as curvy and having long hair, use of nicknames (darling, my love), unprotected sex because 19th Century, slight soft!dom Mycroft, Mycroft talks you through it and is a consent king, no use of y/n
A/N: Can you tell I am obsessed with this man? The writing has come back and who knows how long it's going to last. Please send in your requests for other situations (I'm thinking of doing a whole marriage and honeymoon series) and they can be as smutty or as fluffy as you like. Hope you enjoy!
To put it simply, you adored your husband. Mycroft was everything you could wish for: kind, dedicated and with a relentless determination to care for everyone around him. In the months since your marriage, however, you had found yourself more often than not sitting alone at your dressing table in the evenings and wondering when you'd next be able to spend an uninterrupted day or even evening with him.
Today was Friday. You hadn't seen Mycroft for more than five minutes all week, either when he was giving you a quick kiss on the forehead as he dashed off for the office, at so early an hour when the sun had yet to rise, or when you were already drifting off to sleep, your body half-hidden under the blankets to ward off the winter chill, and he would snuggle up beside you, pressing a deep kiss into your hair and wrapping his arms around you. You couldn't recall what actual words you had exchanged with him which weren't along the lines of 'have a good day' or 'I love you' and those had been mumbled with sleep already tugging you back into its embrace.
In short, you missed your husband. You missed your discussions over dinner about what minor crises Mycroft had resolved that day, your shared opinions of political debates and the way Mycroft would hang on to your every word as you recounted your visit to the shops, or to visit friends or to volunteer at a local school for girls.
You missed your husband. Deeply. In the ways that, if you were not so in love with your husband, you might have been ashamed of.
The way he would worship your body, running his warm, broad hands over every inch of your skin, murmuring praise into your ears. The way he would pay particular attention to your curves, your heavy, full breasts and plush hips, and caress them like they were carved from finest marble.
It look you an embarrassingly long time, sat at your dressing table, carefully removing the pins from your hair with the fire crackling gently in the hearth, to remember the last time he had pleasured you so. It was over two weeks ago. It made something in your chest ache.
It wasn't that you resented him, you adored how hard he worked and how determined he was. It wasn't that you were bitter, you didn't want him clinging to your skirts every day and stifling your independence. It was just, if you stared at your reflection and forced yourself to name it, that you were a little lonely in the evenings.
The realisation made tears start to gather along your lashes and you brushed them aside, frustrated in yourself for even thinking it.
The man worked for the Foreign Office, for God's sake, and you weren't a child who needed minding. You were perfectly happy spending your evenings visiting the few friends who lived close by or sewing or reorganising your bookshelves for the fifteenth time that month.
Oh.
Maybe you were more than just a little lonely.
A soft click from downstairs made your heart start to flutter. He was home. Perhaps a whole hour earlier than usual. You felt a smile begin to form on your lips.
"Darling?" A familiar voice, the voice that you had been longing to hear all day, all week, echoed up the stairs.
"I'm in here," You replied, continuing to pull at the pins that were nestled in your hair and rubbing at your eyes to erase all trace of your tears. You could hear a shuffling downstairs, he was no doubt locking the door, pulling off his coat and hanging it up with his hat and then you heard the creaking of the stairs. A quiet knock on your bedroom door and then there he was, slightly damp from the rain, but as you caught his reflection in your mirror you couldn't help the immediate grin that settled on your face.
"Hello, my love." Mycroft crossed the room, his long strides achieving in three what you would have achieved in seven, and bent to press a series of soft kisses to your hairline. You giggled involuntarily and turned in your chair, leaning back a little so he could press a firm, warm kiss to your lips which made your stomach flip.
"Hello." You responded, noting the smile on his face as his eyes traced over your features to ensure all was well. You reached up to slide your arms around his shoulders as he drew closer to you, drawn to your warmth the way a moth is drawn to light.
"I'm a little damp, darling." He said apologetically. "The rain caught me out."
"I don't mind, my love." You gently ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, the cool droplets of rain seeming to fizz against the heat of him. He kissed you again, softly and tenderly, his hands carefully positioned against the chair so not to damage your fine dressing gown with his damp suit.
"I just have some papers to deal with and then I'm all yours." His words should have sent a thrill through you at the notion that, soon, you could have him in your bed and touching you in all the ways you'd imagined when staring at his cold pillow in the morning. That was clearly what he was insinuating with the way his voice had deepened as he'd said 'all yours' and the boyish twinkle in his eye as he kissed the tip of your nose before turning and heading for his study across the hall. But you had heard those words before. Some papers to deal with always transformed into a letter to the Turkish Embassy which couldn't wait or a telegram from Sherlock which needed his immediate attention. He would no doubt return to your bedroom to dress for bed when you were already drifting off, a Hardy novel clutched in your hands in a desperate attempt to stay awake.
The thought, no, the knowledge that this would happen, made the pang in your chest deepen. You carefully placed your hair pins in their dish and reached for the hand cream you religiously applied every night. You could hear the distinct sound of Mycroft muttering to himself from his study, his light tread across the floor, desk drawers being opened and not closed. An involuntary tear began to trace down your cheek which you angrily brushed away.
Your husband was home. He was kind and loving and generous with his affection. He didn't make you beg for pennies whenever you needed a new pair of gloves or wanted to visit the shops with your friends. You adored him with every fiber of your being and knew he adored you in the exact same way. You ought to be happy.
And yet a second tear joined the first. Then a third and a fourth.
"Go away." You whispered under your breath, pushing the heel of your hand against your eyes. You had already applied your mosituriser to your face, an expensive lotion Mycroft had bought you which smelled faintly of lavender, and wouldn't have your ridiculous tears ruining it.
You had nothing to be upset about. You didn't want your husband to stop working and stop helping people or stop caring about his brother's exploits. So why on earth were you crying?
"My love?" Mycroft's voice from the doorway suddenly jarred you out of your thoughts. "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly so." You replied firmly, sitting up straighter in your chair and beginning to organise the jewelry laid out on your dressing table. Mycroft didn't want to know about your silly tears. He'd been working all day to prevent civil wars and international diplomatic crises, not dealing with you weeping like a child.
He crossed the room and sat down on the ottoman at the foot of your large bed. You noticed his hands were empty, no letters which needed posting or telegrams to answer. His eyes were focused on you and could feel them boring into the back of your head as you busied yourself with your jewels - most of which had been presents from Mycroft. You didn't want to meet his gaze because then you knew that you would crumble.
"Are you certain?" His gentle voice, the voice that he used with you only in your most private moments, made your blood start to thrum in your veins. It was how he had whispered to you on your wedding day at the altar as he had reached for your hand, the new diamond ring glinting on your finger. It was how he'd spoken to you during your first night together when he'd traced his fingers across your skin like you were made of glass and promised to fulfil every carnal wish you'd ever had. It suddenly undid the protective wall you had built around your tears and, as you met his eyes through the reflection of your mirror, you sighed, like the air being let out of a balloon.
A tear ran down your cheek. Mycroft was by your side in an instant, kneeling on the carpet and taking your hands in his. His expression was worried, almost frantic, his eyes wide with surprise and guilt.
"My darling? What is it? What has happened? Are you hurt? Do you need me to - "
"I'm - I'm fine." You stuttered, as more tears began to fall. Mycroft reached up to wipe away your tears and you leaned into him and, as though a great weight was being lifted from your shoulders, began to cry into his shoulder. His hands immediately moved to clutch at your back, pressing feather-light kisses to the top of your head.
"It's nothing..." You uttered, trying to stop your voice from sounding so pitiful. "It's just...I just..."
"Come and sit over here, darling." He murmured quietly, slowly leading you over to the ottoman, his hands never leaving yours. You felt ridiculous - sobbing into his shoulder as though a beloved grandparent has passed away - and if Mycroft hadn't been looking at you with such worry, such genuine concern, you were sure you would have shrugged off your tears as down to your menstrual cycle.
"It's nothing, I mean it..." You insisted, rubbing at your eyes. "I'm just being silly."
"You're not being silly if it has upset you so." Mycroft replied, his fingers rubbing gentle circles into the hand he still held. It was easier to talk without meeting his eye. "Please...tell me?"
"You don't need to concern yourself with it." You shook your head, your stubbornness rearing its head. "You've spent your day dealing with things that actually matter, you don't want to come home and have to deal with...me." Your voice trailed off as his body language shifted. You had never seen him look so hurt as the way he stared up at you now, his brows tightly furrowed and eyes pained.
"My darling." He breathed after a moment. He reached up to cup your cheek, so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. "You are one of the most important people in my life. I always, always, always will have time for you. Do you understand?"
You nodded, feeling Mycroft gently caress your cheekbone and look at you with such adoration it made your heart want to burst. "I'm sorry."
"You don't need to be sorry." He said firmly. "Will you tell me what has been upsetting you so? It does not matter how trivial it is, I wish to know." You took a deep breath, moving to rest your head against Mycroft's shoulder and feeling his hand drop to entangle his fingers with your own.
"I just..." You paused, trying to find the words. "You work so hard and I love that you do. You're always trying to fix something or help someone and I don't want you to stop doing that. I just...feel like I barely see you. I miss you."
"Oh my darling..."
"And even when you come home early, like tonight, I know I should be happy but I just know that something else will come up which you have to deal with, which is fine, but I just wish that..." You trailed off, running out of breath to speak everything which was on your mind before your courage failed you. "I wish that we could spend more time together but you didn't have to feel guilty about it."
The silence crackled. The only noise in the room was the light tapping of the rain against the windows and your now calm breathing.
"I miss you too, you know." Mycroft said finally. "Desperately so. I would much rather take my dinner with you than half the clerks in the Foreign Office." You felt a smile burst onto your face and squeezed his hand. "I...I know I can sometimes get too invested in my work and I apologise, my love."
"You don't need to - "
"But I do." He looked up to meet your eye and you saw his anguish had set into clear determination. "I promise, from now on, I will be firmer with the Office. Hell, the Prime Minister himself if I need to. When I am at home, I am at home. Unless Buckingham Palace is on fire, then there is absolutely no need to contact me when I am here with you."
You traced your fingers across Mycroft's knuckles, the worry that had been pressing against your chest beginning to fade away. You felt your spark igniting once more at the knowledge that Mycroft cared so much about you he would go to such lengths to ensure your happiness.
"That wouldn't be your remit anyway, would it?" You said with a quiet grin. "Buckingham Palace isn't very foreign, is it?"
"And that is why I love you." Mycroft said with a chuckle. "My gracious, beautiful, clever wife." You shrugged, feeling the blush stain your cheeks which always happened whenever your husband complimented you.
"Thank you for telling me, my love. I always want to know how you feel, even if you think it is silly. Alright?"
"Okay." You pressed a kiss to Mycroft's cheek, watching the tips of his ears turn a light pink under your ministrations. "I love you."
"I love you too. Very much. Much more than the Foreign Office." You giggled and Mycroft's smirk broke into a grin. Your laughter was as vital to him as the very air he breathed. "And I meant it, you know."
"Meant what?" You twisted your body so your legs were now hanging across his thigh, your dressing gown rising to reveal just the barest hint of your calves.
"I really am all yours tonight. Today was quite a tame day."
"Really?" You watched the boyish glint in Mycroft's eye return and felt a shiver run down your spine as he pressed a kiss against your jaw. "Have you eaten?"
"Yes, I have eaten." He replied with a chuckle, continuing to caress your hand with his fingertips. "So now we may do whatever you wish." You felt as though the heat from the fire was now lapping at your insides, your heart beating so loudly you were sure Mycroft could hear it. You knew exactly what you wished to do, a fact that was making you press your thighs together and your toes curl against each other in your stockings.
"Whatever I wish?" You whispered, beginning to stroke a feather-light hand up the front of Mycroft's shirt. You saw him swallow, deeply, slowly shifting the hand that was holding your shoulders to slope further down your spine. He nodded, his eyes unashamedly dropping between your eyes and your full lips.
"Whatever you wish. I will be only too happy to oblige." You nodded, feeling his words slide over your warm skin like slipping into a warm bath. You brushed a finger over his moustache, the fine hairs tickling your fingertip, before capturing his lips in a kiss. He instantly kissed you back, reaching up to hold your head in one hand as the other skirted across your lower back.
You broke away, breathless, grinning at Mycroft's flushed cheeks and eyes that seemed darker under the firelight. He grasped eagerly at your waist, the heat from his hands burning like a brand through your dressing gown and linen shift.
"God, I have missed you." He groaned, the sound sending tingles shooting through your blood and causing a warm heat to bloom through your lower stomach. "Are you certain, my love? This is what you want?"
"Yes. Yes, please - " You gasped as he captured your lips in another kiss, tangling his hand in your hair and stealing the breath from your lungs. You began gently tugging at Mycroft's suit jacket, the lapels still slightly damp from the rain, and he pulled away and rose to his feet, offering you a hand to pull you with him.
With a look that had your eyes widening and your thighs pressing together again, he shrugged off his jacket and carefully hung it on the back of the armchair closest to the fire. He then began to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. Your eyes widened at the sliver of bare skin, at the veins that ran through to his strong, capable hands which -
"Are you not going to take it off?" You asked without thinking, noticing the way Mycroft's mouth quirked into a smile. Your eyes followed his every moment, each slow step he took as he prowled towards you and slipped out of his shoes.
"Tonight is all about you, my darling." He answered, slowly. "Do you want me to take it off?"
You swallowed. Deeply. "No. Leave it on for now."
"As my lady wishes." He circled you, his hands coming to rest on your hips. He brushed your hair aside and his warm breath on the back of your neck made you shiver in his arms. He pressed a chaste kiss to your nape, then another and another. You felt like you were melting into his arms as you rested your head back against his shoulder, his lips moving across your jaw and the hairs of his moustache scratching deliciously against your skin.
"Can I take this off?" He asked, his hands having moved to rest on the silk tie of your dressing gown. You nodded, or what you hoped was a nod as you relished in the feeling of his lips against your neck. "I need you to tell me, my darling."
"Yes, you can take it off." You said, half-gasping as the cool air brushed your skin. Your full breasts felt impossibly heavy as the cold air pricked at your nipples. Mycroft slowly slid the silk down your arms and carefully folded it over the back of the chair at your dressing table. You turned to follow his movements, your body now craving the warmth of him. Your nightgown was short sleeved and flowed down to your knees, with lace detail delicately stitched across the collar and hem. It was nothing ornate or extraordinary but the way Mycroft was looking at you made you feel like the most precious woman in the world.
"I truly am the luckiest Englishman alive." He whispered, his arms slipping around your waist to pull you against him, his eyes wide like he was observing something sacred. "My perfect, perfect wife."
You let out a giggle as he pressed a kiss to just under your ear and tickled the sensitive skin. You could feel him smiling against your neck, just as you could feel him hardening against your thigh.
You stepped backwards towards your bed and Mycroft followed, matching smiles on your faces. You felt the mattress hit against the back of your knees and slowly lowered yourself down and pulled yourself back against the pillows, Mycroft's eyes running greedily up your stockings and towards your thighs. You outstretched a hand towards him and he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, as though a knight greeting a princess, before crawling on to the bed and laying down beside you.
"Should I take this off now?" He pulled at his collar and you let out a hum, as though were considering the matter deeply.
"I think that would be best, yes." You replied and caught Mycroft rolling his eyes at your theatrics. You were not unfamiliar to bedroom games and hoped, if Mycroft truly could spend more uninterrupted evenings with you, they might return.
You reached out towards him as he threw his folded shirt onto the ottoman and rose up onto your knees to meet him, kissing him deeply as you clung onto his shoulders. You were not a small woman by any means but the way he wrapped his strong, broad arms around you and held you against his chest, feeling his heart beat faintly against your skin, made you feel safe and protected like nothing else.
"How would you like me to please you?" He murmured against your ear, a whimper involuntarily bursting from your lips and heat pressing against your core.
"Your - your hands, first." You stuttered with a gasp as he gently lay you down against the pillows, his eyes gleaming.
"And where would you like me to touch you?" His confident tone and gentle hands were enough to have you mewling underneath him, your desire beginning to pool at the apex of your thighs.
You reached up and began to tug the sleeves of your nightgown down your shoulders. You heard Mycroft sharply exhale as you revealed your breasts to him, full and ripe and begging for his touch. Mycroft, your Mycroft, was a respected and highly influential government official, a thinker and a planner and a genius. And yet, whether it was at an evening gathering and your gown highlighted your ample chest or times like this when your full beauty was on display, you were reminded that he was also just a man - a man with a particular fixation on one part of your body.
"You are truly beautiful." He murmured reverently, his hands gliding up from your hips to rest just under your breasts. "May I?"
"Yes." You whispered, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as his hands gently, oh so gently, cupped the underside of your breasts. His warm breath skimmed across your nipples and a moan broke from your lips as he lifted his hands to squeeze the flesh between his fingers. You had so dearly missed the feel of his hands and, as he slowly kneaded your breasts in his warm, capable fingers, you felt the ache in your core begin to bloom. "Please. Please."
"What is it, my love?"
"Your mouth. Please."
"Like this?" He pressed a gentle kiss just above your nipple and your mouth fell open at the sensation of his moustache and warm lips against your soft skin.
"Yes."
"You are doing so well, my love." Mycroft said, his voice rumbling down your spine. "Telling me exactly how to please you." He then pressed a careful kiss to your nipple before skimming his tongue across the sensitive flesh, repeating the movement several times while still kneading your other breast between his strong fingers. You felt your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you, your back arching up in a desperate attempt to be closer to his warm mouth and clever hands as he stoked the flames that were steadily burning in your core and soaking your cunt.
"Yes, just like that." You encouraged as he moved his lips to your other breast, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek and force you to meet his gaze.
"I will never be late home for you again, my darling." He said, a bright smile on his face. You felt the laugh burst from your chest before being swallowed by a gasp as he flicked his tongue against your nipple again and again until you arched so far off the bed his head was pressed into your stomach. You cupped his face and pulled him up towards you, kissing him fiercely and tracing your nails across his back. He groaned into your mouth, his hands slipping under your nightgown which still lay rolled down against your waist and taking hold of your plush hips to sink his fingers into the flesh. You felt his tongue skim against your lips and you opened gladly for him, your hips beginning to rock in miniscule motions towards him as his hands cradled you.
"You are - " He broke his lips away, grinding his own hips against your softness and you gasped at the intoxicating feeling of his hardness through his trousers so close to your sensitive, dripping cunt. "A temptress come to lure foolish mortal men to their deaths, I am sure of it."
"What happened to doing whatever I wish?" You giggled against his neck, desperately trying to catch your breath.
"I never said I would not come willingly." He replied, grinning as he kissed your forehead. "And coming is in fact what I intend to make - "
"Now is not the time for your dreadful jokes." You squealed as he began pressing ticklish kisses down your neck, his warm hands still worshipping the luscious curve of your hips.
"How else would you have me pleasure you, my lady?" Mycroft said, his earnest eyes and the smirk gracing his mouth making you bite your lip to swallow down your moans.
"Your mouth."
"And where - " Mycroft ran his thumb over your mouth, swollen from his eager kisses, his eyes bright in delight, "would you have me put my mouth, my darling?" You could not speak. All you could think about was how wet you were and how desperate you were for his soft lips and the gentle abrasions from his moustache against your -
"Can you show me?" You felt yourself nodding, swallowing thickly as you reached for the hem of your nightgown and began to pull it up past your knees, to your thighs, to where the shadow of -
"Don't you think these should come off first?" He gently ran a finger against your ankle, your stockings still barring him from your bare skin.
"Yes." You managed to gasp, swallowing down the urge to scream. Your desire was burning inside your chest, finally allowed to burn brightly after days of keeping it dampened.
Mycroft began to gently roll down your stockings, not before kissing you rather chastely on the lips and causing you to giggle at his gentleness. Once your legs were bare, he began slowly kissing up each part of your leg: your ankle, your calf, your knee, your strong thighs before stopping shy of where you needed him most and swapping to your other leg.
"Mycroft, please - "
"You have not shown me where you want my mouth." He said with a smirk, your knees now hooked over his shoulders as he lay down on the mattress. You pulled up your nightgown fully so that it lay in a strip across your stomach. The cool air hit your bare cunt and the dark clutch of curls at the apex of your legs, with your thighs instinctively parting a little wider to allow Mycroft to drag his eyes over every inch of you.
"Please, please, please - " The pleas left your lips without warning, your desire almost dripping down your thighs as you clutched at the sheets beneath you.
"Whatever my darling desires." Mycroft said with a growl and you bit your lip as you watched him carefully hook your thighs over his shoulders and pull your cunt down to his mouth. He blew a breath of warm air over your sensitive flesh which had you arching into him, his hands coming to rest back on your hips. Then, he licked a single, firm stripe through the center of you and you were certain you saw stars. The high-pitched whine burst free from your mouth as he repeated the slow, firm licks which he knew you liked, your hands clutching at his hair to press his mouth further into you.
"I will never leave you wanting again, my love. I swear it - " Mycroft murmured, the reverberations of his voice making you moan as they quivered against your cunt. "You are dripping for me and you taste divine."
"Don't stop." You gasped, sitting up slightly to watch his eyes flicker up to yours. You could see your essence coating his mouth and his chin, glistening in the dim light.
"I don't intend to, my love." Your moans and whines were near constant now, your hips beginning to rock against his mouth as he lapped up every drop you gave him. He nuzzled into your cunt, his moustache deliciously scratching at your sensitive skin. A high-pitched keening noise left your mouth as Mycroft licked at your sensitive pearl, his hands rubbing gentle circles into your inner thighs as he worshipped you. Your chest was heaving now, your breaths stuttering as you felt the warmth in your lower stomach start to hammer against your ribs. His eager, gentle touch was like a wave and you were happily surrendering to its current.
"Do you want me to pleasure you with my fingers too or just my mouth?"
"Your - your fingers too, please, please - " You were practically begging now, eyes widening as Mycroft took two fingers into his mouth to moisten them before pulling your hips back to him.
"Remember, if it hurts or you feel any discomfort at all, you need to tell me at once, darling."
"I will, I will." You gasped at the gentle swell of pressure at your entrance as Mycroft pressed a thick finger inside of you. Your head lolled back against the soft pillows, Mycroft's free hand reaching up to entangle with your own, as he continued to suckle on your pearl and began to oh so slowly guide his finger in and out of your aching cunt. "Oh - "
"God, you are perfect - " Mycroft groaned, the bed beginning to rock slightly as he shifted his hips against the mattress. "Like a Goddess"
"Another one, please - "
"As my lady desires." His second finger only added to the growing pressure that was spiraling in your stomach, with his fingers moving in and out of you in an imitation of how his cock would pleasure you and his mouth latched onto your pearl. "Does that feel good, my darling?"
"So, so good." You whined, grinding your hips frantically against his mouth. "I'm - I'm going to - "
"That's it, my darling. Come for me - " Like a wave, your pinnacle slammed into you and had you arching up against Mycroft's mouth as a high-pitched wail left your lips. Mycroft continued gently lapping at your pearl as you settled back onto the bed, his hand rubbing reassuring circles against your knuckles as you gasped for breath. You felt his fingers slip out of you and watched him wipe his mouth and chin with the back of his hand before slowly moving up the bed to kiss your forehead and push his nose into your neck.
"Did that feel good?"
"Yes." Your voice was barely a whisper as you slowly stretched out your legs and turned to see the wide grin on his face.
"Good."
"I don't want to stop yet." He raised an eyebrow and you reached out to slowly stroke your hand down his chest to where his cock was straining in his trousers. "I want your cock inside of me."
"You are sure?" Mycroft asked as he let out a shuddering breath.
"Certain." He met your eye, searching for any flicker of hesitation as you reached up to cup his chin and capture his lips in a tender kiss. With a ragged breath, Mycroft pulled away and clambered off the bed to begin unfastening his trousers. You leaned back against the pillows, parting your legs slightly to allow him a view of your cunt and cupped your breasts in your sweaty palms.
Mycroft's eyes widened and he felt sure he stopped breathing for a moment, his hands fumbling over the button of his trousers. His eyes slipped down your figure, taking in each sensuous curve and stretch of skin, to your breasts and soft stomach and glistening cunt.
"Good God." He breathed, tugging frustratedly at the fabric of his breeches as he pulled the fabric from his legs and felt a rush of reprieve as his cock was released from its confines. You let out a soft chuckle at his frustration and eagerness to return to you and bit your lip as you tugged your nightgown from your body and allowed your eyes to run over every inch of your impossibly handsome husband. "I love you so much, my darling."
"As I love you." You beamed as Mycroft rejoined you carefully on the bed, ensuring you were comfortably nestled against the pillows and pulled the covers up around you to protect against the cold. You kissed him passionately, his arms coming up to press you gently against the mattress and your legs shifting to allow him to rest between them.
Mycroft brushed a stray lock of hair from your face so he could study every inch of you. "Now, if it starts to hurt my love, you promise you will tell me and I will stop and we can move - "
"I promise." You assured, your eyes shining, and Mycroft chuckled softly at your eagerness. You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose and circled your arms around his neck as Mycroft shifted his hips forward and began to sink his cock inside your cunt. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he forced himself to calm his breathing and go as slowly and steadily as he possibly could.
"Oh - " You gasped as he nestled his hips against yours, a warm, familiar heat spreading through your pelvis. Your fingers gripped at Mycroft's back, his breath hot on your chest as a groan rumbled through him. "Oh - " You repeated as Mycroft pressed a tender kiss to the side of your neck and your knees bent slightly to cradle his body against your own.
"You feel heavenly, my darling." Mycroft moaned against your ear. "You are squeezing me so tightly - "
"Please move, please - " You gasped and groaned as Mycroft began to slowly rock his hips, dragging his cock out of your cunt before sinking back into your warm embrace. "Yes, just like that. So, so good - "
"That's it, my love. Tell me how good it feels." You were almost sobbing now as the pressure began to build, every nerve acutely focused on the way his cock felt inside of your throbbing cunt. Your own hips were rocking against Mycroft's in an attempt to relieve the ache as he thrust inside of your warmth over and over and over again.
"A little faster - " You pleaded as you clung onto his shoulders, a squeal erupting from your throat as he heeded your words and pistoned faster into you. A low groan left his mouth as you dug your nails into his back, clamping your legs firmly around his hips.
"Do you want me to touch you, darling?" He asked in a ragged voice.
"Please, yes, please - " You whined, eyes almost rolling back as you felt a finger press against your pearl and rub firm circles against it. "Yes, yes, yes."
"Go on darling, come on my cock for me, you've been so good for me - " These words groaned against your neck combined with the constant press of his cock inside you and the pressure against your pearl were your undoing. A groan was ripped from your throat as you convulsed around him, your hands gripping onto his shoulders like a raft at sea. A soft hand caressed your hip as Mycroft whimpered into your ear and spilled inside of you.
In the moments afterwards, after Mycroft had cleaned you tenderly, placing a soft kiss to your lips and brushing the damp hair away from your face, after you used the chamber pot and re-dressed yourself in your nightgown and after Mycroft had ventured down to the kitchen to bring you glasses of water and a pair of biscuits, you found yourself tucked up against Mycroft in bed, his arm protectively around your shoulders and your head against his chest. Your fingers toyed with a loose thread on his night shirt as his fingers curled around a lock of your hair. You were utterly spent, a satisfied warmth still curling up through your limbs and settling in your stomach. The rain was still tapping against the windows outside but your earlier tears were forgotten now.
"I meant what I said, you know." Mycroft murmured softly, kissing your forehead.
"You'll have to remind me precisely what you said, my love, I seem to have forgotten." You said, twisting to look up at him and causing Mycroft to chuckle.
"I really am the luckiest Englishman alive to be married to you."
