Downton Abbey 1. Chapter 1

The happy couple entwined in a waltz seems innocent enough. At least, to all guests out of earshot. Maybe they think the flush of Mary's cheeks was a newly-married glow, or perhaps a bit too much champagne.

"Mrs. Crawley." He murmurs softly, his voice a growl in her ear.

She shivers. "Yes?"

"I want this to end."

She glances around. "What is it you want to end?"

He motions to the party around them, in their honor. "I may be a bit distracted with anticipation." He admits darkly.

She nearly stops dancing, but he moves her surely. How easily he takes the lead when she needs him to.

"Anticipation of what?" she breathes out.

"Making proper acquaintance with _all_ of my wife."

Her throat nearly closes up. She forgets how to breathe. She feels faint.

His hand, once properly on the middle of her back, slides lower, reverently, to the small of her back. A chill from the base of her neck falls to that spot where his hand is. He gives her a shameless look, and she can't scold him. Not really.

"It seems like this has been on your mind quite frequently." She maybe wants to let him continue. Maybe.

"Yes, quite."

"Would you care to elaborate?" the words leave on their own accord, but part of her is happy she said them. She probably wouldn't have the nerve to say them if she thought them over beforehand.

"Well I do look forward to seeing you in a state of undress, Mrs. Crawley, now that I am at liberty to do so."

"Hmm. Just seeing?" she's being a shameless tart, and he loves it. His bemused expression beaming down on her makes her skin tingle.

"Oh, if that was not satisfying enough…" He leans in, lips brushing her ear. The look on his face is utter innocence, as if he's complimenting her dress or whispering other sweet nothings. "I would enjoy the feel of your skin."

"In what way?" she can't be witty and distant tonight. They have a lifetime for that. She needs to know the answer, so she can no longer dance around the question.

"It's no secret that tonight, I shall take you. And I will make you mine." She nods eagerly, and he spins her away from a couple that is nearly encroaching their private world. "But before, I would like to savor you."

She bites her lip, silent, her eyes bidding him to continue.

"I want to kiss every part of you." he places a small kiss under her ear. She wants to feel this kiss on her skin always. "I'm sure every piece of you is lovely. You aren't afraid of sharing all of yourself with me?"

She shakes her head fervently, drawing his body closer to hers.

"My mind might have wandered to those parts of you a few times during the war," he clears his throat. "It might have wandered there every single night. At this point it's a blur. It's just…you."

She doesn't know how to process this. "Please tell me you did not spend all your time on a battlefield fantasizing about such things with me."

"To be entirely honest, little else occupied my mind at the time."

She blushes. "Your engagement…"

He shakes his head. "I'm being honest with you. Some nights, you were the only thing to give me comfort."

"Well," She clears her throat, "I'm very glad to have been of use."

He closes his eyes and nods. "I'd like to share some of these thoughts with you, at least, more of them, soon."

"Luckily for you, we can act on them." She lets her eyes meet his shamelessly.

He stops twirling her, the dance has ended and all the other couples are politely applauding the musicians. She keeps her eyes locked evenly on his. They don't smile. They don't have to. They glow.

She kisses him, a little too inappropriately, but he doesn't want to feel shame and neither does she. He feels the slight wetness of her mouth and longs for more of it. No more teasing previews.

"The wedding night." She smiles warmly at him.

"The wedding night." He agrees, lacing his fingers through hers, pulling her away from the crowd and towards the dark, where a car is waiting to take them home.


	2. Chapter 2

She's afraid to shed her clothes.

She's afraid to show what only one other man has ever seen. It makes her mind flit back to him.

She breathes slowly, trying to calm her shaking heart.

Her hands quiver over the buttons of her blouse. She takes a deep gulp of air. She closes her eyes.

He moves somewhere behind her line of sight. She jumps slightly. His eyes are unflinching. No more shameful glances, forbidden affection. He has no more guilt or pain in what he feels for her. Her rich brown eyes are unsure. She is the one who looks guilty.

He takes her chin in his hand, drawing her into a kiss like sharing a secret. It's slow and unburdened and like a force of gravity. She falls into it.

She pulls away, her eyes are big and her lips are trembling and of course she will not cry, but the expression is on her face is enough. And she wants to apologize.

His hands find the buttons, unfastening the outer layer of her garments, baring her throat.

"We'll have none of that." He corrects her, and they both know that she can't be ashamed any more, for the both of them. For their sakes'. "There's nothing we can change. I should've done everything in the world to make this day sooner."

"Yet the day has passed, and we seem to be facing the night." She says airily, in her maddening, teasing, shallow way. Like it's a trivial topic of conversation. Like she's above it.

He closes his eyes. "Something I have been looking forward for too long."

He collects her hands in his. She wants to lean in to him, feel a body against hers like she hasn't felt in so long, but in a different way. A way that terrifies her, because she wants and anticipates it as much as her current partner.

"Enough waiting." She murmurs.

His lips brush along her jaw, down the soft underside of her chin. He explores her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses like bread crumbs to find his way back to her lips. She whimpers. Already she knows she has never felt like this.

His hands, unnoticed by her, free her from her blouse. She slides off his jacket. She fumbles with his clothes; he is easy with the remove-ment of each of her garments, helping her undress him anxiously due to her confusion.

And he lays her on her back, and she shifts uncomfortably. She dislikes this nudity, this exposure and nearly wants to reach for her robe when-

_Oh._

His lips slide down her neck to her breasts, mouth parted to leave wet reminders making her skin tingle where his lips once were. Her fingers tangle in his hair to hold him on place as he places soft kisses over one of her nipples. He moves his tongue over, and she squirms, unable to react properly to the sensation. Mr. Pamuk certainly did not take this sort to attention involving her body.

His fingers trace her other nipple gentle, and she runs her hands down his back, feeling his smooth skin. Only once has she felt a man's back in such a situation, but her hands stayed in one place, afraid to move, afraid to explore. His blue eyes sparkle at her.

He kisses down her stomach, making her smile. He lifts her knees slightly, parting them. He leans down to further explore her. She opens her mouth to protest, but the serene look in his eyes shuts her mouth.

"I've wanted to do this to you for so long." He says softly, stirring the air over a particularly sensitive part of her, making her flinch. He kisses the soft skin of her inner thigh. "I couldn't picture this with anyone else but you."

"I'd never let anyone but you." she whispers.

With that, he leans forward slightly, running his tongue along her slit. She gasps and moans loudly, gripping the sheets underneath her. He holds her hips down, parting her lips with his tongue and moving deeper inside, stroking her flesh. His mouth is so warm and wet on her and she never imagined, never imagined just how…_oh…_

And his fingers join in his work, he slides his index finger inside her, moving around, stretching her out. She cries out again, her legs shake around him. He crawls back up her body and slips his cock inside her.

There's no pain. That's the one thing she can thank her past for. That there would be nothing soiling the memory right now, with blood and discomfort. She lays there, perfectly filled, and just wants more, without knowing what _more_ was.

"Are you alright?" he murmurs in her ear.

"Perfectly alright." She promises, very sure of herself.

And he's warm in her arms and inside her and he moves against her that makes her feel what she couldn't think possible, but it's real and he's really there. And it's so good it was worth all this pain, but she's almost angry at all the chances the squandered when they could have had this sooner.

He kisses her deeply, trying to make up for lost time, to erase their pasts, and he got her so close with his mouth that his cock hilt deep in her is all it takes for her to be at the point of no return, and with a few thrusts she's undone. Her legs are wrapped tight around him and she's trying to hold him as close as possible and he does the same to her, cumming inside her, grunting his 'I love you's in her ear and she feels their releases, wet and warm, coating her thighs. And her eyes roll up to the ceiling as he collapses on top of her, both of them exhausted. She smiles, knowing that this man doesn't have to leave his fantasies to his mind anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

Her curiosity gets the better of her.

Her hand is tangled lazily in his hair, and she glances at various parts of his body in the dim lighting. But she's also…wondering.

"You mentioned you wished to share more of your…imagination with me, later, at the party…" she looks at him meaningfully.

He chuckles. "If I remember correctly, I just did."

She rolls onto her stomach, laughing. She's a bit embarrassed. She covers her face with one hand.

"I was hoping you had something a bit more…colorful than that…" she turns red, and he laughs loudly now, never knowing she could be capable of such a blush.

"Oh Mary, please don't tell me I'm already boring you." he pushes himself up on his elbows and smiles cheekily down at her.

"No, it's not like that." She closes her eyes. "Tell me what you thought about, when you were away."

This is the gentlest way she can phrase it, bringing back memories of that painful time. He's asked her not to talk about it, so she tries to never mention it. This conversation is very much dangerous to the two of them.

He clears his throat, looking her over carefully.

"It started relatively simply, just you, in my bed. Naked, I suppose." He leans back on the pillows. "I was disgusted with myself. I had broken things off with you; I felt I should have stopped myself from thinking that way. It was wrong, especially to you. But…"

Her eyes are locked on his face. "But?"

"It gave me too much pleasure to think of you that way." He admits guiltily. "I haven't had many vices in my lifetime; I suppose you are my Achilles heel."

"I find that rather flattering." She leans her head on his shoulder. "But you made these fantasies sound like some dark, depraved mind. Picturing me naked seems awfully tame."

He laughs. "Only you could find that tame."

"Well, maybe I'm simply asking you spice up the story a bit." She prompts, looking at him patiently.

He rolls his eyes to the ceiling. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Everything." She smiles richly, leaning up for a savory kiss.

"I should hope so."

"Now, Mr. Crawley, tell me the acts of depravity you plan for your wife. I feel I have a right to know, seeing as you've mentally breeched my privacy for the past…how many years?"

"Since we've met." He answers wickedly.

She smiles. "All the more reason to tell me now."

He pulls her closer, letting one hand crawl down her stomach. She fidgets excitedly and looks up at him, eyes gleaming.

"I quite liked to think you were as enthusiastic as I was for such…encounters." His fingers find her, already wet, and he can't believe he isn't dreaming. She parts her legs for him, so very enthusiastically. She throws her head back, grinding into hand, distracted.

"Mary, are you listening to me?"

"Y-yes…" she stutters out, lifting her hips to meet his touch. One of his fingers slips inside her. He slowly curls it forward, reaching a spot inside her she doesn't understand yet. Nearly in a panic she moans, writhing underneath him.

"I had this one, particularly depraved favorite, would you like to hear it?" he kisses under her ear, and she babbles out her plea for him to continue. He strokes her a bit faster.

"I always wanted to take you on a desk in the library."

She gasps, throwing her head further back at the thought of it. "Wh-where else?"

"I always think of you joining me in the bath and letting me wash every inch of you."

She grips his shoulders. "Are you always…"

"Yes," he cuts her off, kissing her hard as he slips another finger inside, thrusting rougher into her. She whimpers. "With you, always. I'm infatuated."

She looks shocked with this; that she managed to get more this for the rest of her life. She knew he loved her, as she loved him. And there was no blackmail or secrets or lies. There was just this, in its simplicity, and she barely knew his body but loved it all the same. He was getting to know her body and was so good to it.

His thumb swirls over her clit and she bucks against his hand. He leans down and whispers in her ear all the parts of Downton he wishes for them to christen with their affections. She moans, and the thought of him taking her in his car sets her off. She gasps, still unused to the phenomenon of orgasm, and rides it out limply, and his fingers try to prolong it.

She kisses her, grabbing him down onto her and wrapping her legs around him, because he's simply too good, it's not fair.

"Surely that's not it." she says finally, after he's rolled off her and they've laid in comfortable silence a few minutes.

"Of course not, but I can't play all my cards the first night." He answers easily, giving her backside a slight pinch.

"I look forward to the rest." She smiles, knowing she'll inspire new and old thoughts of perversion from this wonderful man, for the rest of their lives.


End file.

Downton Abbey