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It had become somewhat of a ritual shortly after Will left her the first time two decades ago. Sunset was symbolic for them for obvious reasons, and Elizabeth had taken to putting the chest up on the bed with her and listening to the comforting thump-thump of her beloved’s heart inside. It helped her sleep at night to feel like Will was close, and that as long as she kept his heart safe, alive—for all intents and purposes—and well. Sometimes, she even keeps the chest beside her throughout the night when the longing for him becomes too overwhelming.
She can already tell that tonight will be one of those nights. There’s a pang in her heart while she lays on her bed and listens to the steady thumping of Will’s near her ear. It’s been worse lately; after he left her for the first time, she had the excitement of knowing that he would return to meet his son in 10 years time which passed more quickly than she expected, due to constantly having her hands full raising a child and her occasional duties to the Brethren Court. When Will returned, they had a perfect 24 hours together, a complete family for the first time. She had never seen the joy on Will’s face shine as brightly, nor the despair dim that joy as darkly as that last visit. The sorrow that he tried to hide on his face when they parted had stabbed her like the sword that ran through him ten years prior.
For Elizabeth, the past decade had felt like she was missing a limb with the voracity for which she longed for her husband, only exacerbated by Henry’s despair and subsequent obsession with finding a cure for his father’s curse. Elizabeth had done her own research on the trident, and try as she had, it was impossible to find. Although she resented herself for it, eventually she had to stop and focus on their son; however, the fixation had never left Henry. He had been gone for the better part of two years, off to join the Royal Navy, but she knew her son. She knew that in his mind, it was simply a means of getting closer to finding the trident. She found comfort knowing that he would probably never find it, only for fear of him being in danger, but the bigger part of her wished with all of her being that he would succeed and that the three of them could be a family again.
She’s just starting to drift off, lost in the memories of happier times, when something starts to feel off. She frowns and sits up slightly, trying to pinpoint what exactly it was about the atmosphere in her room that has suddenly become so eerie and… silent?
Elizabeth shoots up and scrambles for the floor, landing on her knees with a hard thud but she barely notices the impact, frantically knocking on the floorboards to find the hollow spot in the corner of the room. She finds it and lifts the loose board, grabbing the key with haste and all but leaping back on the bed. She curses trying to get the damn thing into the lock thanks to her violently shaking hands, and when she finally succeeds she lifts the lid and her very existence seems to screech to a halt.
It’s empty.
“No no no,” she breathes, sticking her hands inside the chest and feeling around as though Will’s heart could have possibly shrunk or gone invisible.
It can’t be. He can’t be dead, I kept it safe.
Elizabeth cannot give herself the hope of the alternative, impossible as it would be, so she panics; rifling through her memory, she tries to recall if she had simply imagined the sound of if beating next to her on the bed moments ago and put the heart elsewhere. She starts desperately opening drawers and flinging their contents, uncaring of where they land.
After she’s turned the bedroom upside down, she stops to catch her breath which has become labored and unsteady with the sinking feeling in her stomach and tears streaming down her face. She can’t think clearly, but she needs to go to the bluff. It’s too soon for what would have been Will’s next return to shore, but she looks out the window at the setting sun and she can’t explain why but she has to go to the place where she was last in his arms. She needs to feel as close to him as she can right now and she cannot think of anything past that point; as far as she concerned there is nothing past that point if there is no Will.
She rushes out of the bedroom and then the front door with haste. Although she’s running, the normally short stroll from home to the cliff feels like it takes an eternity. Slowing down slightly to catch her breath, she comes over the hill overlooking the clearing and all of the remaining air in her body promptly leaves her in a whoosh.
He’s here. Will’s here.
He’s walking next to Henry with a young woman following closely behind them, and although it’s been much too long since she’s seen their son, all she can see is him.
Their eyes meet, and her legs carry her towards him in a sprint to match his own. Though she’s already ran here from the house, there is not a molecule in her body that feels tired or could possibly slow down even a fraction. If anything, her speed increases until they’re almost nose to nose, and though her body strains to throw itself at him, to make sure he’s real, she has to pause to take in the lovely sight of her husband which she has been deprived of for longer than anyone should ever have to be.
Though it lasts merely a second, she notices him in his entirety and all of the minute changes about her Will since the last time she was blessed with the sight of him nearly a decade ago. She starts with his face, handsome as ever with only the slightest lines around his mouth and forehead indicating their decades spent apart; the years had been incredibly kind to him. His beautiful russet curls that her fingers itch to run through fall to his chest, not a speck of gray visible on his head nor in the stubble on his face. She meets his eyes, dark and warm and full of so many emotions as they bore into her own; they regard her as if she is the only thing in his universe and she feels a pang in her chest because it’s the way he’s always looked at her and she can no longer stand for there to be even a centimeter of space between them.
She throws herself into him and Will catches her just as eagerly. His strong arms wrap around her waist, and she’s being crushed against his solid chest. He’s squeezing her harder than she thinks he realizes but there’s nowhere else in the world that she’d rather be. When mere minutes ago she was assuming the worst, now she can’t keep the grin off her face as she buries her nose into his shoulder and inhales the faint scent of sweat, the sea, and something that’s just always been indescribably Will.
She’s not sure how long they stand there embracing, nor can she be bothered to care. All too soon Will starts to pull back and she clutches him tighter, unwilling to allow them to be physically separated for the foreseeable future, until she realizes why he’s pulling back and yes… she’s been waiting to do this since the moment she had to last let him go. He pulls back and nudges his face towards hers slightly, but before she meets him halfway she allows herself another brief moment to admire him up close. Her eyes keep drawing to his lips and she sees them curl up into the slightest smile before neither of them can take it any longer.
The despair she felt in the past hour along with the rest of the world fall away when their lips touch for the first time in years, and a full body shudder works its way throughout Elizabeth’s frame. She kisses him hard and desperately, hand coming up to cup the back of his head as she feels his arms wrap around her shoulders, and their audience is completely forgotten as Will’s tongue strokes hotly across hers. She whimpers into his mouth, feeling him smile against her lips as she tangles her fingers through his locks and presses her nose into his cheek, inhaling his intoxicating scent again.
Will pulls back and Elizabeth catches a glimpse of the dimples that have haunted her dreams before she is once again crushed into his body and lifted off the ground by strong arms. She squeals in delight, relishing in his answering laughter as he begins to spin them, and she cannot remember a moment in her entire life when she’s felt this blissfully happy. When he finally sets her back on her feet he dives in to pepper kisses on every inch of her face, both of them swaying slightly. She giggles breathlessly, catching his lips ever so often when they’re in reach between his pecks.
“Elizabeth…” he breathes her name in that way that never fails to make her weak in the knees, breathless and husky against her lips and she has to kiss him again, capturing his bottom lip and giving it a sharp little nip and Will growls lowly, pulling her tighter against his solid frame.
Eventually, she reluctantly pulls away, whispering his name in return, and watches his eyes darken, his gaze intense and sharp on her own and suddenly they are much too far from a bed—from any flat surface—and, she’s reminded as their son and the young woman come into her line of vision, privacy.
However, as Henry approaches, grin wide and bright across his face, the haze of Will’s proximity starts to lift and she puts two and two together and she knows. She knows he’s responsible for his father’s freedom and the perils he likely put himself through to gain it, and her emotions are cycling so quickly that she doesn’t think before she wrenches herself out of Will’s arms and stomps towards her impertinent son.
She watches the expression on Henry’s face go from one of joy to confusion to slight fear as opens his mouth to defend himself, however he’s not able to get a syllable out before his ear is firmly in Elizabeth’s grasp.
“HENRY WILLIAM TURNER!” Elizabeth yanks Henry down to her level as he winces at the use of his full name, and—Elizabeth’s certain—in embarrassment from his mother’s treatment of him in front of his new lady friend.
“Do you have any idea of what could’ve happened to you?!” She ceases yanking on her son’s ear, ignoring his attempts at placating her to smack him repeatedly and none to lightly on the shoulder and chest. “You very well could have been killed going after that BLOODY TRIDENT! If I had known what you were getting up to I would have tracked you down and killed you myself!”
When she’s deemed that she’s given enough of a walloping to get her point across to her stupid—bloody stupid—son, she yanks him into a fierce embrace, relief flooding her body at the notion that the two most important men in her life were here and safe.
“Mama…” Henry wraps his arms around her, squeezing lightly, and Elizabeth sobs, feeling very much overwhelmed. “I’m alright. More than.” He pulls back and shoots her a grin that’s always reminded her far too much of his father, who stands not far behind them, no doubt keenly observing their exchange. He glances behind her to the man in question, smiling widening across his face. “And Father’s free! We can be a family— truly, now.”
There’s a look of glee on her son’s face that she hasn’t seen since he was a young boy and she can’t help but return it with a giddy smile of her own. She’s missed him dearly, and he’s just given her the greatest gift she could ask for.
“Oh, and also, Jack said—”
The smile slides off her face with haste and she raises a finger in the air, not but an hair’s breadth from Henry’s nose.
“Do NOT,” the hand in front of her son’s face shakes with barely concealed rage, only growing hotter when she looks beyond his shoulder and sees the Pearl in the distance. “I will pretend that I misheard you, and that you in fact did not set off on a suicide mission with Jack Sparrow. Honestly, Henry, what were you thinking—”
“Elizabeth,” Will says softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, and all at once she is overcome again. Her eyes well with tears as she runs her eyes over every inch of her son’s face, adoringly.
“Thank you,” she whisper, cupping his cheek, before pressing a kiss to his grinning face and responding with a soft, fond smile of her own. She gestures over his shoulder to the young woman standing a short distance from the reunited family. “Who’s this, then?”
Elizabeth watches Henry’s smile turn soft as he leaves her embrace to beckon the girl closer, feeling the heat of Will’s body as he sidles up to her side, and though she’s missed her son desperately, all she can think of is how very long the evening will be before she can have her husband to herself.
***
After Henry introduces them to Carina, Elizabeth suggests that they depart to the house for dinner. She lingers back with her husband while their son excitedly drags the young woman ahead to point out various sights on the walk back.
Will wraps an arm around her and presses a kiss to her forehead before they begin to follow at a leisurely pace.
“You’ve raised a fine young man,” he says, smiling fondly at the younger pair ahead of them before returning his gaze to hers, and she still can’t believe he’s real and not a figment of her dreams.
“He’s far too stubborn and reckless for his own good, but yes, he’s a fine man.” She leans into his side. “He takes after his father that way.”
He turns towards her and grins, and Elizabeth feels her stomach flutter much like it did over 20 years ago during their courtship, never having quite gotten used to just how devastatingly handsome her husband is.
“I can’t wait to learn of the ways he takes after both of us.” His smile turns into a wondrous expression and he shakes his head, slightly, pulling Elizabeth tighter against his side. “It’s really over… I’ve lived this moment a thousand times in my dreams over the past 20 years, Elizabeth. It’s hard to believe that I won’t wake up in my quarters on the Dutchman any moment now.”
Elizabeth’s heart clenches in empathy of her husband’s pain, for she’s lived it; she recalls countless nights when she’s woken from the ecstasy she’s now experiencing just for it to dissipate into despair. However, she refuses to dwell on the past after what she’s been gifted today. Instead, she’s quickly reminded of the just as frequent, but much more salacious dreams involving her husband that have haunted her, and the hunger that overcame her when their lips met for the first time in a decade returns with a raging vengeance.
“Are you looking forward to dinner?” She starts off, innocently. “You must be starving now that you have your mortality back.”
Elizabeth watches him out of the corner of her eye as they walk, hoping that he takes the bait, and she really doesn’t give Will enough credit because he knows what she’s playing at, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. When he turns to face her again, she endeavors to keep her expression neutral at the sight of his now darkened eyes burning into hers. She barely suppresses a shiver at the raw hunger in his gaze that she’s certain has nothing to do with food.
“Famished.”
Smiling, she trails the hand that was hooked on his hip to the hem of his shirt, slipping her fingers underneath to touch bare skin. She feels Will stiffen at her touch, the mischievous side of her that had been in hibernation for far too long awakening in light of her giddiness, and she’s practically vibrating in anticipation over the idea of pushing her husband to the brink of his control until they can both no longer stand it.
“How convenient, my love,” she says, casually, now running her nails lightly over the bare skin of the small of his back, and she hears Will release a shuddering breath. “Then let us get through dinner, for afterward I shall do my best to sate your hunger and thoroughly convince you of how very real this is.”
Will stops them for a brief moment, seemingly having some sort of internal battle with himself as he stares down at her, lips parted and eyes nearly black. Elizabeth stares back, helplessly, a mere second away from suggesting they find the nearest secluded patch of grass among the palms when he cups her face in those rough, large hands and kisses her with an intensity that leaves her breathless.
All too soon, he wrenches his mouth from hers with a groan, before spinning her around and hastening them along at a much brisker pace than before.
“Now that I have my mortality back, I’m certain that you will be the death of me, Elizabeth.”
She laughs and feels him smile against her hair.
***
Dinner proves to be a… trying affair.
Henry and Carina recount their journey of finding the trident from the point of their meeting, and though Elizabeth does her best to give her attention to her son that she has not seen in far too long and the young woman who is obviously very important to him, all she can focus on is Will. Her memory of her husband did him little justice; she watches him interact with his son, playful and free and so utterly gorgeous, and the gnawing hunger she feels in her body has absolutely nothing to do with the table full of food in front of them.
Will seems to be on exactly the same page as her, which makes time pass infinitely slower. Every time Henry turns his attention towards Carina, Will’s gaze locks with hers, dark and hungry and full of heat and love and that endless devotion that’s always been in those soft, brown eyes whenever they’ve land on her. It’s all Elizabeth can do to not drag him into their bedroom this instant.
It doesn’t help that they can’t seem to keep their hands to themselves whenever they’re in reach of each other; their fingers brushing when they pass a plate, a lingering caress on the back or shoulder when one of them stands from the table, and Will’s hand seemingly glued to Elizabeth’s knee whenever they’re seated, his pinky stroking incessantly back and forth along her skin and she truly doesn’t know how much more of this she can take.
Despite feeling like she may be incinerating from the inside out, the joy she feels at having her family complete and sharing a meal together does help temper her need to have Will alone, in her arms, and—most importantly—unclothed at this very moment, though only slightly. She tries to keep reminding herself that there is no longer any need to rush to try to fill every single second of their time together with 10 years worth of memories. They have all the time in the world to create those memories now and surely Elizabeth can share her husband for another hour, if that, before getting him all to herself for the night.
She watches as he grins at something Henry says, eyes crinkling and dimples flashing and the sound of his laugh warm and low, and Elizabeth has to cross her legs at the flash of heat that suddenly rushes through her body.
Some time later, there’s a lull in the conversation, and Elizabeth’s lips curl into a fond smile when Henry turns besotted eyes onto Carina and grabs her hand.
“Would you like to see some of the island?”
“How can I refuse that?” Carina smiles, standing with Henry before she turns back to address his parents. “Thank you so much for having me for supper, Mr. and Mrs. Turner.”
“The pleasure was ours, Carina.” Elizabeth stands the embrace the young woman. “Please consider this your home for as long as you’re here.” She sees Will stand up beside her, a soft smile on his face.
Henry grins, clapping a hand on Will’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to Elizabeth’s cheek before excitedly leading Carina towards the door.
Alone at last, Elizabeth turns to face her husband, and it’s as easy as breathing to let his strong arms wrap around her shoulders while hers tighten around his waist. A decade ago when Will last returned ashore, she had marveled at how being around each other after such a long absence was nearly seamless in regards to their affection and interactions. She’s happy to see that hasn’t changed and breathes a sigh into his shoulder, closing her eyes in bliss.
Will rocks her slowly, pressing soft kisses into her hair, before he stiffens slightly and pulls back to see her face.
Elizabeth frowns, quite perturbed at the space—no matter how small—that Will had put between them, before she sees the soft, adoring look in those warm brown eyes.
“I should have told you this the moment you came into my arms tonight,” he cups the side of her neck and presses their foreheads together and Elizabeth wants to cry at the tenderness of the moment. “I love you,” he breathes. “I love you so much, Elizabeth.”
“Oh, Will,” she releases a shuddering breath, tears of happiness pooling in her eyes until they have nowhere to go but down her face. “I love you, too. More than words can describe.”
As if he’s unable to help himself any longer, he connects their lips, and Elizabeth thinks it unfortunate that it’s only their third kiss of the night, the two of them far behind schedule if she has anything to say about it.
Will sucks tenderly on her bottom lip before pulling back to regard her, and he smiles tenderly, a soft chuckle escaping his chest.
“I hope those are tears of joy, my love,” he teases, nuzzling his nose gently against her.
Elizabeth laughs, “I can’t imagine I’ll have use for the other kind ever again.” Leaning in to nestle back into his neck, she inhales the scent of seawater and sweat, his curls slightly oily where she runs her fingers through them.
“I think a bath is in order, Mr. Turner,” she says, rubbing her thumb over a small smudge on his neck.
“I’m sorry,” he steps back, fidgeting slightly with his sleeves, and Elizabeth has to smile at at the familiar, nervous gesture from the earliest days of their courtship. “I must smell dreadful.”
The smile drops off her face and she frowns as Will’s eyes skirt downward self-consciously. Now that the curse is broken, she vows to finally eradicate this ridiculous inferiority complex that had apparently never quite gone away. She knows he’d just returned but this is his home, damn it. He should be relaxed and comfortable after a hard day, let alone a decade, not concerned for his state or appearance.
“Nonsense. You always smell incredible to me.” To prove her point, she leans back into his body, placing a kiss on his Adam’s apple. “I only wish to make you comfortable for bed.” She smiles when she feels him swallow beneath her lips.
“A bath does sound nice,” he relents, hands curling into the fabric of her dress at her hips, and surely as ready as he is to get to the more… carnal activities of their evening, Elizabeth is certain that a bath is a tempting offer after not having the luxury of taking a proper one for years.
“Come,” she grabs his hand and leads him out of the kitchen and into the washroom that’s attached to their bedroom.
She is pleased to see that there is still steam coming from the water in the tub, having tasked their small staff with filling it while they ate. She also noticed with a small blush that they had returned the bedroom to its pre-panic state, clothing having been rightfully returned to the drawers and the chest gone from the bed. Elizabeth could care less where it is; they no longer have any use for it.
She turns towards Will, reaching up to remove the bandana from his head and she smiles adoringly when curls fall down to frame his handsome face. She’s always loved his hair wild and untamed. She steps into the bedroom for a moment, undressing until she is left only in her thin shift, and when she returns to Will there’s a roguish smile on his face.
“Will you be joining me, then?” He growls, playfully, reaching out to grab her and pull her firmly against his body. She can already feel the effect that her minimal clothing is having on him pressing into her hip and she almost suggests that they forego the bath altogether and re-familiarize themselves with each other right here on the bathroom floor; but no, this is something she has been waiting 20 years to do, too pre-occupied last time he was home with Henry and doing activities more… invigorating than bathing in the limited time they had.
“No,” she smiles, coyly, putting some space in between them to unbutton his burgundy shirt, revealing inch by inch of tanned skin to her hungry gaze. “I wish to bathe you, if you’ll allow it.”
Will looks pleased but slightly taken aback. “I’m sure you’re tired after today, love. I do not wish to burden you with…”
He trails off as Elizabeth runs her nails over the chiseled contours of his abdomen, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the faded scar on his chest. She feels her eyes sting once again at the feeling of his heart strongly thumping beneath her lips.
“It would please me greatly to do this for you.” She trails soft kisses upward to his neck, hands smoothing up the warm planes of his chest to his broad shoulders, pushing the shirt off and letting it pool on the ground where it belongs. “Besides, I am struggling to recall a single moment I have been burdened while you were naked.”
Will’s cheeks redden slightly and he huffs out a laugh, toeing off his boots before briefly stepping away to drop them in the bedroom, and when he returns Elizabeth’s hands travel to the fastenings of his pants.
She keeps her eyes on his once he’s completely bare—save for the cord and trinkets around his neck—for she knows if she lets her gaze travel downward to that part of him, there would be no bath to be had. He smirks knowingly at her in a decidedly un-Will-like fashion and turns to step into the tub.
Flustered, though not about to let him have the upper hand, she waits until he’s fully turned away from her before delivering a smack to his firm bottom, and the reaction is more splendid than she could have hoped for.
Will freezes, and she can see his mouth drop open slightly in shock, a flush of red creeping up his neck and across his shoulders as he regards her with a scandalized look from the corner of his eye. She remains stoic for as long as she can before breaking out into an uncontrollable cackle, and her stomach hurts in the best way from the unfamiliar sensation of laughing so hard for the first time in who knows how long.
She’s busy wiping the tears from her eyes, so she misses the way Will’s narrow before he pounces, wrapping her in his arms and promptly dunking them both into the bath, water splashing over the sides and onto the floor.
“WILLIAM TURNER!” She shrieks in shocked indignation, an absolutely wicked grin on her husband’s lovely face that she’d very much like to smack right now, however before she can consider it further he slants his mouth over hers, slick and hot and burning with need and……
…… And the bath can wait, she decides, as her hands dive into his dark curls, tilting his head and tongue delving into his mouth with urgency. She swallows his groan, feeling his calloused hands run up her thighs under the water and higher, bunching the fabric of her shift around her hips and she doesn’t know how they survived the evening being civil and patient because right now she feels like she’ll die if he is not inside her in the next thirty seconds.
“Will…” she breathes desperately against his mouth, hands clenching impatiently into his hair now and Will grunts, nearly tearing her shift over her head before diving down to her neck to lick and suck at the skin there.
She whimpers at the feeling of teeth nipping the front of her throat, sucking kisses turning sharp, and reaches down to aid Will’s hands in hastily removing her undergarments, hands fumbling their way down her legs together. He tosses the soaked fabric somewhere and it lands with a wet plop that neither of them pay any mind to.
His hand is between her thighs, fingers slipping through her slick folds without hesitation, and he doesn’t seem to be trying to pleasure her as much as check her readiness and she was ready hours ago, damn it. She growls in the back of her throat, reaching down to wrap her fingers around Will’s hard flesh that is throbbing so close yet nowhere near where she needs it. She squeezes none too gently in an effort to tell Will to get on with it as her voice does not seem to be working at the moment.
He jerks against her, exhaling a sharp breath against her neck before shoving her hand aside to line himself up, the tip of him nudging against her entrance, before guiding her hips down with his other hand until finally, finally, he enters her in one smooth, wet thrust.
Elizabeth doesn’t think either of them are breathing. They sit frozen for an immeasurable amount of time and she thinks that they might very well be in shock from the feeling of being connected as one for the first time in years, hands clenched tightly into each others’ bodies that are trembling with barely restrained need.
And just as a moment ago when Elizabeth felt she would die if Will was not inside her, she now feels that same burning urgency to feel him move. As she glances down at the provocative sight of their wet bodies connected in a most intimate fashion she can’t help but clench involuntarily around the hardness inside of her.
Will breathes out a harsh groan, letting his head fall none too gently against her breast before digging his fingers into her waist and rolling his hips in a slow, grinding thrust.
Elizabeth cries out at the stretch, pulling back slightly to let her gaze rake hungrily over the delicious sight that her husband makes: mouth hanging open, warm, chocolate eyes glazed but intense as they regard her hungrily in return. Needing to touch him, she starts by stroking her palms against the smooth skin of his chest and skating over the hard pebbles of his nipples which earns her a sharp intake of breath, before her nails graze lightly over the firm ridges of his abdomen. She’s all but salivating over the picture he makes, rivulets of water making their way down tanned, muscled flesh, and the throbbing between her legs increases to an almost painful point at the sight. They’re both breathing heavier by the second, hands roaming and eyes searching until they’re nearly panting through the tension in their bodies and suddenly it’s like a canon going off.
Their mouths crash together, teeth clanking, and it takes a second for their lips to slot together properly but Elizabeth couldn’t care less at the moment about something as insignificant as finesse, because Will’s fingers are digging into her hips, holding on for dear life as she sets a relentless pace, rising and falling in his lap while he meets her thrust for thrust and it’s not enough… It will never be enough again now that he’s back and in her arms, and he could be inside her for every moment onward for the rest of their days and Elizabeth doesn’t think she will have her fill even then.
The need for air forces them to separate, but she refuses to go far, touching their foreheads together as they pant into each other’s mouths, lips brushing, and she shivers at the feeling of his short facial hair tickling her skin as their bodies continue to move together, desperately.
Completely lost to the pleasure coursing through her body, she doesn’t realize that she’s been digging her nails into his pectorals until he hisses against her lips. She opens her eyes, an apology on her lips as she starts to loosen her grip, but Will is quicker than her and holds her hands to his skin before she can.
“Don’t stop,” his voice is low and gravelly and she clenches involuntarily at the sound.
Anchoring her nails back into the firm muscles of his chest, she increases the pace of her hips, causing them both to moan. Releasing his own death grips on her hips, Will trails his calloused hands up her waist before cupping her breasts. A total contrast to her harsh treatment of his chest, he squeezes her tender flesh gently, running his thumbs over both of her hard nipples at the same time and the feeling of his work-roughened hands on that part of her body has her on the edge of release in an ridiculously short amount of time.
Her violent rhythm starts to falter with her impending climax, and Will, ever attuned to her, takes more direction in guiding her movements with one hand back on her hip, driving up into her with more purpose now as he presses his other palm flat to her upper back to pull her closer to him. Leaning up slightly, he licks over a nipple before sucking it into his mouth, moaning against her flesh. Elizabeth makes a sound between a gasp and a cry and when he lightly grazes his teeth over the swollen bud, she shatters.
Underneath the sounds coming out of her mouth and the blood rushing in her ears, she can barely hear Will’s own loud groan signaling his release as he holds her tightly to his lap. Her climax is almost blinding, but she refuses to miss the sight of him coming apart beneath her. Her eyes water with the effort and at how beautiful her husband is in the throes of pleasure, lips parted and red from their kisses, eyes hazy, sweat glistening on the bronze skin of his arms and torso from the heat of the bath and their efforts.
Moments or hours later—Elizabeth can’t be certain how much time has passed, nor does she care—they finally come down, panting and bodies still trembling, and she feels very much like they have melted together into one entity. Not that she’s complaining. She rests her chin on his strong shoulder, placing a light kiss there and smiling against the skin when she feels Will run a hand tenderly down her back.
“You’re incredible,” he breathes, and oh, how she’s missed that rasp in his voice that always seemed to get deeper and heavier when it was just the two of them alone and she feels her walls give a weak clench around where Will’s still buried inside of her.
He winces, but the slightly cocky grin on his face is irritating and adorable at the same time, and Elizabeth presses her own smiling lips tenderly to his.
She pulls back with a tiny nibble to his lip, gazing at him adoringly and twirling a damp, chocolate curl around her finger. “You’re maddeningly handsome.”
His face flushes slightly, but his grin widens as he leans in to place a soft kiss on her lips, “and you’re gorgeous,” her cheek, “alluring,” her neck, “unbelievably beautiful.”
She feels her face heat as well, glancing down bashfully, but her chin is tipped back up by firm but gentle fingers.
“You are,” his eyes are intense, and she’s reminded how he looked at her all those years ago while wrapping her cut hand below the deck of the Interceptor. “And I’ll spend every day for the rest of our lives reminding you.”
Elizabeth rests her forehead against his, sighing with a contentedness she hasn’t felt in ages. “You’d better,” she whispers, placing a tender kiss on the tip of his nose and the soft smile he gives her makes her want to cry.
Wordlessly, she resumes her task that was so deliciously interrupted, and picks up the pitcher that she keeps on a small table near the tub. Dipping it into the now lukewarm water, she pours it slowly over the bowed crown of Will’s head, before reaching for the soap and lathering his dark curls. She massages her nails gently over his scalp, smiling at his quiet groan and continues for perhaps longer than needed before rinsing out the soap.
She lathers her hands again before starting at his forearms, hands sliding along the corded muscle before trailing to his upper arms. She rubs over his broad shoulders and around to his back, where her fingers find the barely raised flesh of whip lashes and her heart clenches painfully before she reminds herself that he is here and safe and alive.
She shakes the unpleasant memories from her head before running her soapy hands up his back and around to his chest, trailing over the light indents her nails have left in his skin. Rubbing her thumb into one of the marks, she feels Will twitch between her legs and smirks, continuing with one hand down and past his abdominals before it’s promptly plucked away.
“None of that, now,” Will says, not a hint of sternness in his voice as he regards her with an amused smile on his face.
Elizabeth frowns, lower lip sticking out in a slight pout, “And why ever not?”
He lifts her wayward hand to his mouth and gently kisses the fingertips. “Because there will be no leaving this tub tonight if you get me started again, and I’d rather we not spend our first full day together as a pair of prunes.”
She giggles, relenting as Will helps her stand with him and guides her to step out of the tub. They grin at each other shyly when their feet step into small puddles on the floor, but neither can be bothered by the mess.
Will reaches for a towel on the shelf, drying her body before gently squeezing the water out of her hair. When he finishes, she takes the towel from him and pays him the same treatment though she finishes by ruffling the hair on top of his head with the towel, earning her a boyish laugh that makes her feel body feel light as air and she can’t resist leaning up and pressing her lips to his.
She feels his smile melt under her lips as he sighs into the kiss, wrapping the towel around both of their bodies to shield them from the chill and pulling her into his warmth. He hugs her to him, tongue sweeping demandingly across the seam of her lips and Elizabeth moans as she tangles her fingers into his damp hair.
They kiss until the need for oxygen demands that they separate and before Will can pull her back in for another, she slips out of his arms. Biting back a giggle at the dumbfounded expression on her dear husband’s face, a delicious idea strikes her and she slinks out of the washroom and back into their bedroom. She scans the room quickly for her target, grinning when she sees them, and scampers over to the bedroom door to slip her feet into his boots. She hears Will start to pad out of the washroom and flips her hair in front of her shoulders so that the ends just cover her breasts. Leaning against the door, her heart pounds in anticipation of his reaction.
She’s slightly disappointed to see that he’s wrapped the towel around his waist, but the look in his eyes almost makes up for it. It’s as if his burning, dark orbs can’t decide where to land as they skirt from her face to her covered breasts to her legs before they linger on her—or rather, his—boots with a deliciously wicked grin on his face.
“Interesting choice of footwear, Mrs. Turner,” the rumbling tone in his voice causes her to press her legs together as he stalks towards her with at least the appearance of patience, but Elizabeth can see the clenching of his jaw and his tightening grip on the towel and she knows better; she knows he’s just as eager to touch her again as she is to have his hands back on her.
He stops when they’re nearly nose to nose, Elizabeth’s breath quickening at his proximity and Lord… she doesn’t know how they’ll ever find it in themselves to leave the confinement of their bedroom and be productive members of society ever again.
Will lifts his hand to stroke calloused fingers gently down her cheek, causing her to shiver before breathing, “you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
The game she was playing has all but been forgotten as she drowns in his gaze, and she could spend the rest of her life in this moment and be utterly content, happy.
“I could say the same about you,” and she may have been lying to herself because her gaze drifts to where the candlelight casts a golden glow on his skin and she wants again with a gnawing urgency that is far from contentedness.
She slams their lips together without preamble, completely lacking in grace, however Will doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, fingers tanging in her hair and plundering her mouth hungrily with his tongue, while her hands slide up his bare chest to clutch at his shoulders.
They kiss wetly and sloppily, hands roaming over bare flesh and bodies pressing together tightly before they separate, breathing heavily into each other’s mouth, and Elizabeth shivers at the hot rod of flesh that she can once again feel pressing into her stomach through the material of the towel.
“Elizabeth,” Will all but groans into her cheek, eyes closed and panting hotly against her skin. “I want—”
“Anything,” she breathes. “You can have anything you want, my love.”
He wrenches himself from her body with a harsh groan, before dropping to his knees and her breath escapes her for a moment at the sight.
While lovemaking itself was an activity they only had the benefit of engaging in a handful of times, this particular act was even more infrequent. Though Will had always made to put his mouth on her during their acts of intimacy, Elizabeth preferred to have him inside her during their limited time together. She’s not surprised at the eager way he settles between her legs now, and the anticipation in his gaze is enough to make her squirm.
His hand runs up to the cuff of the boot before his rough palm is gliding over her thigh. Goose flesh erupts on her skin and she hears a soft groan escape her husband before he slides the hand underneath her knee and gently lifts her leg to place it over his shoulder. She struck by a distant memory as his lips trail softly over the inside of her knee and higher, and this was a foolish decision on her part because she has no idea how she’s going to remain standing.
Will remedies this concern by pressing her to lean back against the door and firmly gripping the top of the thigh draped over his shoulder. He continues trailing up her leg, placing sucking kisses closer and closer to their apex and Elizabeth wants to scream at how long it’s taking, but she gets ahead of herself for when Will latches his mouth to her and sucks with a bit too much enthusiasm, she hisses in pain.
“Not so hard, darling,” she says, softly. He look up at her apologetically and murmurs a sorry into her thigh. She runs a hand reassuringly through his curls as he leans back in, mouth much gentler than it had been a moment ago as he runs his tongue through her folds.
She moans, legs trembling slightly but she knows Will would never let her fall regardless of the near death grip he has on her thighs. In turn, her fingers tighten in his soft hair for purchase and he groans against her, tongue makes several more passes through her slit.
“Christ, Elizabeth, you taste so good,” he pants, fingers of his right hand trailing between her legs to join his mouth. “I’ve missed this so much.”
She’s lost the ability to speak and can only manage a whimper when he slips one finger inside of her to stroke her walls, tongue circling the sensitive bud at the top of her slit and if she weren’t so aroused she might have been embarrassed at how quickly she finds herself on the edge.
When Will pumps back into her with two fingers and gives a firm, albeit more gentle suck than before to her clitoris, she shatters, moaning his name and squeezing his head between her thighs. It lasts forever and not long enough and she’s frantically pulling him up to her by the hair as the final waves crash over her.
Will’s expression is feral when he rises, pupils blown where only the thinnest ring of brown is still visible around them and his mouth glistens with her wetness. She feels just as wild as he looks as she leans in to slant her mouth over his, tasting herself on his lips and pulling him into her with her hand on the back of his neck. She wastes no time in kicking off his boots a mere second before has his hands on the back of thighs, lifting her to wrap her legs around his narrow waist.
She barely has a moment to catch her breath before he’s inside her again. She cries out at the welcome intrusion, soreness be damned; she has all day tomorrow to recover because it’s not as if she’ll be letting either of them leave their bed so soon after Will’s return.
He sets a furious pace almost immediately, the door rattling loudly where she’s pressed up against it, and Elizabeth can do nothing but hold on, hands clawing at his shoulders as he sucks biting kisses into the column of her neck, a melody of grunts and moans that only serve to make her burn hotter ringing in her ears.
“Will,” she moans, barely cognizant of the words coming out of her mouth, “Will, you feel so good… I love you. God, I love you so much.” She knows she’s babbling now, but he needs to hear it. He needs to know.
“Elizabeth…” he breathes into her shoulder, and she can hear the desperation in his voice, crying out as his hands slide up to grab fistfuls of her behind, which only serves to spread her wider for him and increase the power of his thrusts.
She can feel that he’s close with the way he’s now pressing her into the door, rougher than he would be if he were in control which is the last thing Elizabeth wants him to be right now; she can feel herself once again approaching that precipice and she wants him with her again when they both fall.
Despite their long separations, she recalls a trick or two she had picked up during their brief couplings together that had driven her husband wild, and it’s with this thought in mind that she leans in to nip at his earlobe and run her tongue along the shell. He gasps harshly against her ear, hips stuttering before he pushes as deep as he can into her, groaning painfully into her neck and the sensation of warmth as he spends inside of her is enough to push her over the edge for the third time that night.
Elizabeth sends a silent thanks to the Lord that Henry and Carina had the good sense to vacate the house because she’s certain she’s rendered Will deaf with the scream that pierces through their room as the waves wash over her, her entire body clenching with the force of her orgasm before she goes limp in his arms. She hears Will moan weakly as he drops his sweaty forehead to her shoulder, arms still holding her against the door, but she can feel them trembling with the effort now. She raises both hands to his hair, stroking through the soft strands soothingly before pressing a kiss to his crown.
“Good God, Elizabeth,” he says moments later, breath still slightly labored and she laughs, a feeling of pride swelling inside her at how utterly spent he sounds.
“I’m afraid that in light of your freedom comes a new debt you must pay, darling,” she purrs, playing with the stubble on his cheeks. “An eternity of servitude making love to your wife whenever the opportunity presents itself.”
He laughs warmly, and her heart flutters at the sound. “‘Tis a service I will gladly provide as long as I am physically able.” He plants a kiss on her cheek before settling her gingerly down on the floor.
She steadies herself by gripping his upper arms, and when she’s sure the feeling has completely returned to her legs, she leans up to place a kiss on the front of his throat before stepping away to the dresser on the opposite side of the room.
She opens the top drawer and retrieves a white nightgown for herself, before rifling through for the matching shirt and pants she had set aside for Will because… well, she’s not really sure why, but now she’s glad she kept them. Her heart squeezes when she realizes that they will now become worn and thin and wrinkled and she will gladly repair or replace them as they’ll no longer have use just once every 10 years but every night from here on out.
She slips the gown over her head before bringing Will’s night clothes over to where he stands. He makes to take them from her but she jerks them out of his reach and he chuckles.
“Will my servitude require me to remain unclothed for your convenience?” He teases, but the effect is ruined by the yawn he can’t stifle and Elizabeth smiles adoringly at him.
“Hardly,” she says, gesturing him to follow her towards a chair in the corner of the room, and she sits. “Taking your clothes off is half the fun. It’s akin to unwrapping a present, if you will.”
“I know what you mean,” he murmurs, letting his eyes rove over her while he lifts one foot at a time into the pant legs that she guides him to step into.
She smiles coyly up at him through her lashes, pulling the pants over his hips before standing and guiding his arms and head through the shirt. Will yawns again and she grabs his hand to lead them to the bed.
She lies down, moving over to make room for him on the side she could never bring herself to sleep on, but which often held the chest so she could be soothed by the steady beat of his heart. She’s comforted knowing that it’s rhythm would continue to lull her to sleep, but now infinitely better as it will be accompanied by the warmth of his body and his arms, his low voice rumbling words of love into her ear.
He climbs into bed next to her, pulling the blankets up and over both of them, and they immediately move towards each other. As though they’ve never been parted, they settle into each other seamlessly, Elizabeth laying her head on Will’s chest and draping an arm over his stomach as his wraps around her shoulders, squeezing her to him gently.
“I can still hardly believe it,” he whispers into her hair, and she can hear the slur in his voice, looking up to find his eyes fluttering like he’s futilely trying to keep them open.
She presses a kiss to the faded scar on his chest, her own eyes closing at the feel of his strong heartbeat underneath her lips. It still beats for her, and she’ll continue to protect the most precious gift she’s ever been given now that it’s back in its rightful place. “Go to sleep, Will. I’ll be right here when you wake.”
A light snore is the last thing she hears before she drifts off as well, hoping his dreams are every bit serene as their future promises to be.