This is for @bearnuhhh - #57 - “I miss the way things used to be.” Sorry this took so long, my inspiration has gone on a long trip away somewhere and, like Elizabeth in this little fic, I miss the way things used to be, too. Here is some smut to make up for it. I hope it’s ok x
Smut under the cut.
Henry has two fingers inside her and his mouth is hot against her chest and it feels so damn good and Elizabeth lets out a throaty sigh as she relishes the feel of her husband all around her.
And yet she still can’t get her brain to switch off.
Henry has his fingers inside her and his thumb is just about brushing her clit and his lips are on her breast and it feels fucking amazing and she can’t stop her stupid brain from thinking about the summit she’s due to host in two days and the diplomatic incident that sparked off earlier today, making the pre-summit prep more stressful than it needs to be and now she’s thinking about Minister Chen while she’s in bed with her husband and she hates everything and –
“Babe?” Henry looks up, obviously sensing his wife is not entirely present in the moment.
His hand stills inside her and she arches against him to get him to move again. “Can’t stop thinking,” she hisses, frustrated in more ways than one. “Henry, make me stop thinking.”
“I’m trying,” he murmurs. He leans down and drops a kiss on her forehead. “Just let go,” he tells her.
It’s very good advice, she thinks, and she is very determined to follow it, and she very nearly succeeds as Henry presses his thumb more firmly against her clit and sends sparks shooting behind her eyelids, her hips lifting involuntarily from the bed in response. Then she thinks: tariff rider.
Maybe if she attached a tariff rider to the treaty the summit is due to debate, she could get some of the opposition to –
“Damn it,” she bites out, and she can feel the press of tears starting to build at her inability to just be in the moment with her husband.
Henry gentles his touch and withdraws his fingers from inside her, but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he surrounds her, settling himself directly on top of her and sliding his arms beneath her shoulders to hold her close. The security of it calms her a little, stops the anxiety from building. “What is it?” he asks softly. “Tell me how I can help.”
The fact he’s been so good about it makes it worse, somehow. She hates that it’s so hard to turn her brain off these days, that she’s always thinking about at least three different things at once, even when she shouldn’t be thinking anything at all beyond how good she feels. She struggles for a way to put it into words. “I just…” She closes her eyes for a second. “Sometimes, I miss the way things used to be.”
Henry kisses her shoulder and makes an enquiring noise to prompt her to continue.
“I mean, we used to get home from work and have amazing sex and… that would be it. That would be all I would – could – think about. These days, even when we can coordinate our schedules so we can have sex in the first place, there’s always so much other stuff going on that it’s hard to stop. I hate that my brain won’t shut up and just let me focus on how good you make me feel.” She strokes her hands over Henry’s face and stretches up for a kiss. “Because, Henry, you make me feel so good.”
He gives her a smile and thinks for a moment. “You just need to unwind a little.”
“I’m trying. I don’t have time to do it properly.”
The look on Henry’s face suggests that he has considered the situation and has decided challenge accepted. “Yeah, you do,” he says. “We do.” His fingers press back inside her and a moment later, a third one eases in alongside, letting her feel the stretch and giving her a few blissful seconds when feeling it is all she can do. “We’ve got this, babe,” he says, moving his hand against her carefully.
She looks up at him, focusing on his face to stop her accidentally focusing on anything else. He’s looking at her with a mix of love and lust and determination and, oh, her husband is sexy always but he’s particularly sexy when he has set his mind to something.
Especially when that something is her.
She has the flash of a thought about the summit and surges up to kiss Henry to chase it away, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and not even coming up for air until she can no longer remember even the basis of the thought.
“See,” he says when she finally pulls back, breathless and heading rapidly towards boneless with pleasure. “We’ve got this.”
It was something about tariffs, she thinks, distantly, at the back of her mind.
Then Henry’s fourth finger starts to press carefully and deliberately against her and – yes - there it is, that’s the charm, the thing that gets her and makes her melt. She moans as his hand fills her up and thinks it’s the best she’s felt in a long time.
It’s the last coherent thought she has for some time.
