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Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap...TapTapTapTap. Tap. Tap.

Wordlessly, Ann reached over and laid her hand over her wife’s restless bookmark. 

If Anne was going to insist on this silent reading time before bed, the least she could do was stay silent. They’d agreed to this last week when Ann had insinuated her wife owned a few too many books. That, of course, was not well received. Anne, for her part, had implied that she had so little time to read because Ann was always distracting her. Thus, this little compromise. Ann hated it. 

It was just so boring . Sure, Ann didn’t mind reading every now and again, but every single night? When she could be wrapped in her wife’s arms or playing with Tiny or looking at Instagram? Ann shifted sullenly in bed. Sometimes it felt like Anne loved books more than her.

It didn’t help, of course, that this new routine had severely hampered their sex life. Three of the last seven nights they’d gone to bed fully clothed, nothing more than a kiss and a cuddle. Ann huffed out a sigh. Perhaps she’d refuse Anne tonight out of spite.

Not exactly healthy, she thought as she re-read the same page for the fourth time. Anne had discarded the bookmark and was now caressing Ann’s lower thigh over the covers. 

Ann studied her handsome profile, the sharp cut of her jawline, the fine lines beside her eyes as she squinted at the page. Those dark eyes darted to Ann’s face, then back to the page. Ann sighed and returned to her own book. 

The tapping started again. Anne was flicking her bookmark against the hard spine of her book, her knee brushing against Ann’s under the sheets. She was always so restless, even in bed. Ann wondered what it would take to distract her. 

“Pony,” she sang softly, turning her page. “How much longer?”

“Thirty-two minutes, my darling.”

Anne squeezed her knee, then went back to her relentless tapping. Catching her slim wrist, Ann brought those long fingers to her lips. She kissed the tip of each one, then the sharp ridges of her knuckles. Anne hummed softly, but she did not show the least sign of distraction. Slowly, Ann slid her hand along her wife’s wrist as she took her index finger into her mouth.

“Adney,” Anne warned, and it was just enough time for Ann to slip her watch from her wrist. “Adney!”

Giggling, Ann hopped out of bed and raced into their closet. She hadn’t really thought she’d make it this far. There was that armchair, the one they usually had piled high with clothes or packages or Tiny’s toys. She climbed into it, preparing her fort for the inevitable attack. Her wife sauntered into the room.

“Mrs. Lister,” she drawled, “what are you doing in here?”

“Checking the time,” Ann tried to fight back her laughter. Anne’s eyes danced with mischief as she closed the distance between them. “Don’t be cross, darling.”

“I’m just confused,” Anne said, a smile playing at her lips. “What is my wife doing in the closet, when she could be in our bed?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d noticed,” Ann teased shyly, swinging Anne’s watch gently. “Your nose so deep in your book.”

“What’s that mean, Adney?” Anne dropped to her knees in front of her. “You’d rather I put my nose somewhere else?”

“Maybe,” Ann breathed, threading her fingers through Anne’s dark hair. She traced one fingertip along her wife’s long nose. “You know I love this nose.”

“Just the nose?” Anne husked, spreading Ann’s legs wide and kissing the inside of her thighs. 

“And your lips,” Ann hummed softly; Anne pulled her forward in the chair, trailing kisses ever-higher. “Your hands .”

Anne hummed and looked up at her. Ann’s heart soared - that grin, those eyes, the fire burning between them. She reached down to cup Anne’s handsome face in her hands and brought their lips together. 

Finally .

Anne stretched upward, slipped her tongue along Ann’s, climbed into the chair with one knee between Ann’s. She was intoxicating like this, powerful and methodical and intense. Ann needed her closer, but the angle was all wrong. Could they flip around somehow? Could Anne pick her up? She pushed one hand into the back of her wife’s boxers and squeezed.

“Can we -” Anne panted, then shook her head. “Can we move?”


“Right here.”

Anne grinned and stood, pulling Ann clumsily to her feet. In an instant, they’d traded places, with Anne in the chair and Ann in her lap. Warmth suffused Ann’s body as she giggled and tilted her neck to accept Anne’s warm kisses. She hardly even noticed Anne’s watch twist out of her fingers. It didn’t matter anymore, not with Anne’s lips on hers, and - she heard a soft click, and then - Anne’s hands under her nightshirt. 

“You’re so hot,” Anne breathed against her neck, one hand curling around her ass. “Fuck, Adney.”

Ann moaned softly and rolled her hips, arching her back as Anne’s warm hand cupped her breast. Their lips met again, and Ann clung to her like a life raft. She tangled her fingers in Anne’s hair, deepening their kiss. Anne’s hands were everywhere, leaving little fires in their wake. Slowly, Anne pushed her nightshirt upward, until it was bunched up around Ann’s clavicle. With a gasp, Ann tossed her head back, breathless and burning as Anne took her nipple between her lips. 

“Pony,” she whispered with a smile. “Don’t you miss your book?”

Anne surfaced, her face pink with excitement and her eyes dancing with mischief. Her grin was so wide it nearly broke Ann’s heart. She bit her lip and slipped one hand between Ann’s legs.

“Not a fucking bit.”

They crashed back together, sloppy and desperate. Anne’s long fingers traced along Ann’s core. Breathy moans filled the air as Anne stroked along her center and over her clit. Soft lips sucked at her throat, one hand curling around her ass. Ann angled her hips, silently begging. A teasing finger nearly made Ann cry out, but she knew she couldn’t. Shibden was the perfect place to call home, but couldn’t they get some thicker walls? When Anne finally pressed inside of her, Ann moaned so loudly her wife lurched forward to cover her lips with her own.

Ann couldn’t help it, could only wrap her arms around her wife’s broad shoulders and pour every needy, wanton sound into her mouth. Soon Anne was stretching her with two fingers, then three, curling and coaxing until Ann’s entire body burned. 

“You’re so good,” Anne purred, kissing her neck and squeezing her ass to urge her hips faster. “You’re such a good girl.”

“Pony,” Ann moaned, bucking her hips desperately. “Fuck.”

“That mouth,” Anne said appreciatively, spanking her crisply. “You’re so hot.”

Ann keened, her hips rutting desperately as her climax towered before her. 

“Come for me, baby,” Anne said, her voice low and rough. “I love you so much. Come for me.”

She tried to hold off - really, she did, but it was impossible. That split-second of waiting made it even better, the flames even brighter, stronger. Anne swallowed her moans, easing her through wave after wave of white-hot pleasure. Her low, soft voice filled Ann’s ears as she drifted back to herself. With a sigh, she went limp leaning against her wife’s strong chest. 

“Oh, Pony,” she managed, still breathless.

“You’re so beautiful,” Anne said, caressing her face gently. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” Ann said, then kissed her wife softly. “You’re so hot.”

She slipped from Anne’s lap, biting her lip and swinging Anne’s hand in hers. Ann didn’t need the dark, damp spot in her wife’s grey boxers to tell her she was aching to be touched, but Ann didn’t even try to remove the flimsy fabric. Instead, she kissed the back of her wife’s hand, sucked her still-wet fingers gently, then tapped the silver band on Anne’s wrist. Anne furrowed her brows, but Ann just winked and padded into the bedroom.

“I knew you’d come after your watch before you came after your wife.”


“You’re terribly predictable, darling,” Ann said over her shoulder, crawling back into bed. “Hardly a thought for your poor little woman.”

“Adney,” Anne said, her eyes wide as she climbed onto the edge of the bed. Ann almost laughed at how concerned she looked, how wild her expression was; perhaps it was a bit cruel, but Ann figured her wife could learn a bit of patience. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Of course not, baby.” Ann smiled as Anne’s hands curled around her thighs, desperation coloring her face as she leaned toward Ann. “Don’t you want to finish your book?”

“What book?” Anne asked. Ann giggled in response, taking one of her wife’s hands and squeezing it. “Please, will you - seriously, Adney, I’m going to explode.”

“I hope not,” Ann purred, pulling Anne gently forward. 

Their lips met in a slow, searching kiss. Anne cupped her face with one hand, the other still clasped in Ann’s. She moaned as Ann slipped into her boxers, rolling her hips as Ann teased her clit. Ann kept the pressure light, much too light, and broke their kiss to whisper in her wife’s ear. 

“You drive me crazy, Anne Lister.” 

She darted her tongue out to trace the shell of Anne’s ear, nipped gently at her earlobe, then dragged her tongue along the column of her neck. Anne tugged her hair, forcing their lips together again as she pressed Ann into the pillows. Stifling a giggle, Ann let her. If her wife needed to feel a bit of control, she would let her. In just a few minutes, she’d be gasping Ann’s name anyway.

Electricity crackled between them as she teased Anne’s clit a bit harder, sucking at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. With a gentle buck of her hips, Ann urged her wife onto her back - one of those countless, silent messages that had sprung up during their marriage. Ann grinned proudly as her wife’s back hit the sheets. She urged Anne’s shirt over her head, her shorts down her legs before whipping her own nightshirt off. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Anne breathed, tracing one hand over Ann’s belly.

Ann shook her head and pressed both of her wife’s hands over her head, kissing her soundly for an instant. Their bodies rolled together as their lips met over and over. She was never very good like this though, and she had to release Anne’s hands and shift her weight. Ann wondered, for a moment, if they could stay like this forever. 

“Adney,” her wife whined. “It’s been ages.”

And then it all clicked into place. Ann had been taking her fill of Anne’s body, but her poor wife probably needed relief rather badly. She brought their lips together again, this time slipping between Anne’s legs and stroking her clit with purpose. She kissed her strong neck, the proud line of her jaw, the parted perfection of her lips. 

“Come for me, darling,” Ann whispered, strumming Anne’s clit faster. “You’re so perfect. Anne,” she husked, making her voice lower and rougher than usual, “let go.”

Anne always listened, didn’t she? She shattered in Ann’s arms, trembling in that now-familiar way that made Ann’s heart soar. WIth tender kisses and gentle strokes, Ann eased her through. Nothing made her quite so proud as taking Anne Fucking Lister to that pinnacle of pleasure. Perhaps the novelty should have worn off by now, but Ann hoped it never did. Watching Anne come undone in her arms felt just as exciting and ethereal and ephemeral as it had back at Crow Nest, that first time on the kitchen island and every time since. 

“I love you,” she whispered as her wife stilled. “Anne Lister, I love you so much.”

“I love you,” Anne groaned, her eyes still closed and her chest heaving. “I love you. I love you.”

Ann hummed and pulled the covers around their slick bodies. They drifted together automatically, as naturally as breathing - Anne’s arm around her back, Ann’s hand around her wife’s waist, their legs tangled together. Ann closed her eyes, waiting for Anne’s melodious voice to fill the room. But there was nothing. Just the cadence of their heavy breathing and silence.

“Pony?” She kissed the side of Anne’s neck she could reach. “Our book?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to read in bed anymore,” Anne said haughtily, even as her hand stroke aimlessly over Ann’s bare back. Ann had to resist the urge to scoff at her wife’s post-coital pouting.

“Anne,” Ann drew her wife’s name out. “You know I can’t sleep without your voice.”

“You know you don’t have to take my watch to seduce me,” Anne said carefully. “You can just tell me.”

“I’ll remember that,” Ann said softly and sincerely, “but for now - uh, I’d like to hear you.”

“I bet you would,” Anne purred, her arm tightening around Ann’s waist as she reached for her reading glasses and the paperback they’d been reading before bed. 

“I love you,” Ann whispered into her wife’s skin. “I love everything about you.”

“I’ll remember that the next time you complain about my diatribes on ancient translators.”

Anne’s throaty, satisfied laughter was still ringing in her ears as Ann fell asleep.