Work Text:
Abbie blinked slightly as the light streaming in through the window alerted her to the sunrise. She and Ichabod had been in Paris for close to a week already for their 25th wedding anniversary. Abbie smiled at the thought as she turned over to see Ichabod still sound asleep.
She couldn’t suppress the muffled groan as her muscles protested the movement. She was sore, partially from age, she admitted to herself and partially because she and Ichabod had been making love on every available surface of their vacation rental apartment. The bed, obviously, but the living room and dining area. Hell, Ichabod even managed to make Abbie see stars using only the tiny sliver of counter-top the French called a kitchen and his very, very talented tongue.
The memory inspired Abbie to shift and lay her left leg across Ichabod’s thighs and rest her cheek on his shoulder. They were both naked, not bothering to put on night clothes since invariably this week they weren’t needed once they got to the bed.
Abbie looked at her soulmate as he slept peacefully.
At almost 59 years old, there was more gray in his beard than brown, and his hair was almost completely gray. Abbie sometimes missed the brown, but the waves were still there in his full head of hair, and she admitted he was aging well. Very well. Often when they were out together, women would stare in admiration, not that Ichabod ever noticed.
The laugh lines around his eyes were smoothed in sleep and the closed eyelids hid a blue that was still as bright as any sea Abbie had ever seen. Her husband, her Ichabod, was a beautiful man and Abbie felt blessed to have him as her own.
“You’re staring.” His eyes were still closed, but Abbie felt the deep inhale as he spoke.
Abbie kissed his shoulder, “Yes, I am. And?”
“See something you like?”
“All the time.”
“Hmmmm. See something you want?”
“Every day.”
“Well, just say the word and it shall be as my lady desires.”
“Your lady,” Abbie shifted up her leg to rub over his cock, which she was very pleased to feel was alert and ready, “is saying the word.”
Ichabod finally opened his eyes and moved Abbie on her back so he could hover over her with an adoring smile, “You get more beautiful every day, Treasure.”
Leaning up slightly to kiss and snip at his mouth, Abbie whispered, “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
“Oh, I am nothing compared to you,” Ichabod replied as he kissed along her neck, moving into position between her legs, “The skin here is so delicate. So soft.”
Abbie opened her legs wider in obvious invitation, but Ichabod wasn’t done, “And your breasts!” He licked at her left nipple before taking it fully in her mouth. Abbie’s back arched, “Are a lot more saggy than they used to be,” she countered.
“But no less delectable,” he reminded her, “These breasts fed our children. Don’t you dare insult them. They are magnificent.” Continuing to roll his tongue around the nipple, Ichabod reached to squeeze Abbie’s other breast, bringing forth a moan she couldn’t have held back if she tried, “Damn, baby.”
He continued his journey down her body, reaching her stomach. Ichabod knew that Abbie had been feeling a bit more self-conscious about the changes carrying two children and age were having on her body. She admitted to him one night back home in Sleepy Hollow that she didn’t feel as desirable as she used to when she was younger. Ichabod determined that this trip would help change her completely erroneous view of herself. He not only loved Abbie more than ever, but he also desired as well. When they were out together, Ichabod never failed to notice the men who stared at his wife with interest, not that she ever noticed. Not anymore.
“Ichabod,” Abbie cried out at the feeling of his kisses and the pooling desire they inspired. He paid special attention to the faded stretch marks from their pregnancies. To him, they were a physical indication of their love, the family and life they had built together, “Yes, my dearest treasure?”
“What are you doing?” Abbie panted.
Moving down further, Ichabod got to her folds, “Worshipping you as you deserve. Always.”
“Ichabod,” Abbie pulled on his shoulders, just as he was starting to lick on her glistening pussy, “Please. I need you.”
Ichabod looked up at Abbie, surprised at the almost desperate tone in her voice. Reacting without thought, he moved, ready to encase himself in her warm wetness again. It was then that he saw her tears and stopped, “Abbie, what is it? Why are you crying?”
“I need you,” Abbie felt the tears fall along her temple and soak into the pillow beneath her head. She wouldn’t have been able to say why she was crying. Abbie would never call herself sentimental. Ichabod was far more so, but Abbie had suddenly felt overcome with this feeling of amazing love for her husband…a love so strong, enormous, and beautiful that it couldn’t be contained.
Ichabod kissed her, resting between her thighs and pressed against her breasts. He was heavy, but the weight was as comforting as his kiss was loving and passionate and true, “And I need you. More than anything. What’s bothering you, Treasure? Tell me.”
Abbie rubbed at this back, soothing, “I don’t know that anything is wrong, baby. It’s just sometimes how much I love you is overwhelming.”
“In a bad way?”
“No! Never,” she smiled with her answer, tears still in her eyes, “In the best way possible.” His face was so close that Abbie could see the the darker blue flecks in his eyes, “The very best way possible.”
Her slightly labored breathing reminded Ichabod that he was weighing her down and he moved to lay by Abbie’s side. But she had other ideas and hugged him even tighter, “No,” she protested, “I need you.”
With another soft kiss of acceptance, Ichabod slid down to rest his head on Abbie’s chest, content to feel her stroking his hair and breathing in the calming reassurance of their love.
Ichabod lovingly breathed with her as he would do, he knew, for the rest of his life.