A/N: Just a little bit of random M/M smutty, fluffy goodness. Bit thanks to Willa Dedalus, as always, for helping smooth rough edges.

Hope you enjoy!


April 25th, 1930

"My darling, I can scarcely believe I've been enjoying the privilege of being your husband for an entire decade now."

Mary hummed in contentment, relishing the feel of her husband's warm breath against her ear as they danced cheek to cheek in the dim light of the posh night club. He had taken her out for a late dinner and dancing, in honor of their anniversary, after putting their children to bed. Mary had worn her favorite dress, which had required only minor alterations to adjust to her new, fuller figure due to the recent birth of the newest addition to their family.

"God, Mary," Matthew whispered breathily as he daringly kissed and nuzzled her neck. "Would you mind terribly if we went home now?"

"Not at all," Mary answered, trying not to allow her trepidation about what she knew would happen when they arrived back at Grantham House show.

Their new baby son, Reggie, had made his appearance in the world a little over a month past. He was a rather large baby, certainly larger than her three others had been. He had also arrived two entire weeks late, and caused his mama a good deal of discomfort during the final months of her pregnancy. Because of this, it had been well over three months since she and Matthew had been together as husband and wife.

Mary loved her husband. He was the dearest thing in the world to her, so she had faithfully attended to his comfort and pleasure whenever she felt up to it. While Matthew greatly enjoyed and appreciated her thoughtful ministrations, he burned to join with her again. Just holding her close as they swayed slowly in time to the soft jazz had him nearly throbbing with arousal. He needed to get her home, and fast.

In her dressing room back at the house, Mary dismissed Anna when she was stripped down to just her chemise. Once alone, she slipped the final thin garment from her shoulders, allowing it to cascade down around her ankles as she studied her body in the full-length mirror. Her last pregnancy had altered her, it was undeniable. Her breasts, which had always been small and pert, now seemed large and heavy. Her waistline had lost some of its trimness, and her belly hadn't snapped back into place as it had done with her earlier pregnancies. Several unsightly marks marred the skin of her abdomen where it had been stretched by her rather large baby.

Mary felt her eyes cloud with tears as she thought of her sweet Matthew eagerly awaiting her presence in their bedroom. He was so wonderful - to her, to the children, to her family. The past year since her father's death had been a challenging one for Matthew as he made the transition from country solicitor to earl. She couldn't possibly have been more proud of him. He was forty that year, yet he scarcely appeared any older than he had the day they married ten years ago. His face was still youthful and beautiful, his body trim and strong. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint him, and she feared what he would think of her changed form. He had always seemed to admire her lithe body so much... She simply hated that she may no longer be able to please him as she once had.

It had been so terribly, terribly long since they'd made love. Mary wanted him desperately, but couldn't shake the worry that nagged at her. She sucked in several deep breaths, and forced her eyes away from the disappointing vision in the mirror. Staring at her reflection wasn't going to make her pre-baby body magically re-appear. Mustering her courage, she drew a pretty, yet relatively modest, nightgown of cream silk with pink lace edging over her head and entered the bedroom.

Her face instantly lit up with an amused smile at the sight of Matthew's mischievous grin as he lay completely and unashamedly naked in the middle of their bed. Her mouth watered at the sight of his arousal, which he stroked languidly, enticingly, while lifting an eyebrow invitingly in her direction. Such a delightful invitation could not possibly be refused.

As she approached the edge of the bed, Matthew sat up and drew her into his arms, his mouth seeking and engaging hers in a deep, possessive kiss.

"My wife. My sweet Mary," he crooned in her ear as he lay her down under him. "I just can't get enough of you, my gorgeous bride."

Mary moaned in heartfelt appreciation of his words. She loved him so desperately, and her body hummed with arousal and need. His hardness was rubbing temptingly against her hip, which she angled up to press against him.

Matthew whimpered needfully as she moved. His hands began to busy themselves with the task of ridding his wife of her nightgown so that he could feel her soft, supple skin against his.

The sudden coolness of the night air against her hips nearly sent Mary into a full-blown panic. The lamp beside the bed was still on. She couldn't allow him to see her. It was simply too painful to think of disappointing him when he was being so tender and loving with her, as he always was.

"Matthew, will you not turn down the lights?" she pled, placing her hands over his to stop their upward progress.

"But, I want to see you," he protested, digging his fingers into the soft fullness of her hips, which he found utterly delightful. He pressed his body against hers, loving the way her soft belly felt against his straining arousal.

"God, I need to be inside you, Mary!" he rasped in her ear as he tried to free his hands to continue their mission of relieving his lovely wife of her nightgown.

With a near-desperate groan, Mary pushed him away from her, keeping his hands firmly in hers, as she straddled his waist. Matthew gasped at the sudden change in position, but made no protest when Mary released one of his hands so that she could reach underneath the fabric of her nightgown and position him at her warm entrance. The room filled with the sounds of their pleasure as she sank down on him, taking the full length of him into her body. Matthew freed his hands from her grasp and gripped her hips, pulling her down hard against him as she rocked and swayed.

Mary was comfortable until his hands began to move upwards towards her belly. As soon as they touched her there, she placed her hands over his, returning them to a safer position on her hips. Enticed by the tantalizing sway of her breasts as she moved, Matthew reached up to cup them, causing their thin silk covering to grow damp as several droplets of her warm milk escaped. Mary nearly sobbed with a combination of embarrassment and need as she quickened her movements over him, desperate to bring them both to release so that she could hide herself under the blankets. Tearing his hands from her body, she leaned over him, pinning his arms over his head. Her motions became nearly frantic as she rode him, tearing the sweetest little moans from his lips with each undulation.

Though his hands nearly ached to touch her, Matthew was enthralled by the sight of his lovely wife mounted on him, dominating him. Mary didn't often take the lead in their lovemaking, and he had always enjoyed those rare occasions when her need overwhelmed her ladylikeness. Besides, he was entirely too close to the strongest climax he had experienced in months to think of much else.

Mary immediately recognized the change in his face that told her he was close.

"Yes, Matthew," she gently encouraged, daring to say those three scandalous little words that he had used to send her over the edge so many countless times. "Come for me, love."

As intended, her words sent him over the brink. She watched, entranced, as he cried out his pleasure, his hips bucking erratically up against hers as he filled her with his warm essence.

Careful to keep their bodies connected for as long as possible, Mary pulled the covers over them and snuggled into Matthew's embrace. With all the embarrassing areas of her body hidden against his own, Mary was able to relax and enjoy being close to him. She relished the feel of his hands moving up and down her back, tangling in her hair.

"I love you, Matthew," she whispered sincerely into the crook of his neck as she gently and repeatedly squeezed him where he was still inside her.

Matthew sighed contentedly, relishing how easy it was for his wife to express her love after all those years. It had taken her so long - eight years of marriage to be precise - to become comfortable saying those three special little words to both himself and to their children, but she had finally come around. He remembered, with absolute clarity, the moment she had come to the realization that she needn't fear expressing her feelings, that it was a natural and right thing to do. It was as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes, and he had witnessed the light of new knowledge in their chocolaty depths as she first realized that love was not a form of weakness, but her - their- greatest strength.

"You taught me how to love, Matthew," she had whispered to him as they lay in very much the same position they were currently in. "I don't believe I knew what real love was until you came into my life. I remember looking down at you, lying helpless in a a hospital bed, and knowing what it was to truly love, without conditions...without terms...without limitations. Now you've shown me how to express it. I love you so much, my darling husband."

The memory of her heartfelt words never failed to bring joy to his heart and a smile to his face. Mary now told him, and all four of their children, "I love you" at least once a day, sometimes more than once.

Matthew rolled them carefully over, placing himself above his wife. He kissed her deeply, his tongue dipping into her open mouth to caress hers. This time, he wished to love her properly, making sure she achieved her pleasure before he did his. Over the years, he had become quite proficient at pleasuring Mary, so he knew it wouldn't take long.

Mary sighed in anticipation as he moved down the bed. She eagerly wrapped her legs around his shoulders, more than ready for his most intimate of kisses.

At first, it was all that was wonderful. Mary gasped, then sighed, as she had always done at the first caress of his tongue on her most sensitive area, and pushed her hips up against him. She moved the blankets aside so she could see him, the sight of his thick, shining blonde hair moving intimately between her thighs still as exciting as it had been ten years ago. Occasionally he would glance up at her, deep blue eyes burning with a beautiful intensity that only she was privileged to see. In no time, she was trembling and crying out his name, her hands fisted in his hair and her hips bucking against his mouth. She opened her arms to him, expecting him to immediately join with her again, but he seemed in no hurry to leave his current position between her thighs. Instead, he rained wet, open-mouthed kisses along the insides of her legs as his hands caressed and soothed. Too soon, his hands moved to the edge of her nightgown and began to push it upward, causing Mary to nearly sob with fear and alarm.

"Please don't," she pled as her hands flew to still the upward motion of his.

"Mary?" he asked, confused. She had never been uncomfortable revealing her body to him before. "Darling, what is it?"

The tears escaped then. She could no longer hold them back.

"Mary! My angel, what is it?" Matthew was alarmed by her outburst. One moment she had been blissfully content, the next in tears. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled himself up to take her in his arms, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Are you well, darling? You're frightening me."

"Oh, Matthew, I'm perfectly alright," Mary replied somewhat petulantly, forcing herself to stop blubbering. Frustrated with herself for crying, she fiercely scrubbed her hands over her eyes. "It's just that..."

Mary had to pause as her throat closed up again, leaving Matthew suspended in his worried state.

"Yes?" he prompted gently.

"It's just that my...my figure isn't the same as it was before Reggie. It's awful, and I'm so afraid you won't...find me desirable any more."

Matthew couldn't hide his smile at his wife's foolishness.

"Mary, I have a confession to make," he began, trying to sound serious.

"What is it, darling?" she asked.

"Well, you see...I have already seen you...after Reggie."

"What? How?" Mary sat up quickly, alarmed and confused by his confession.

"I peeped through the key hole while you were bathing last week," he confessed tensely, unsure of her reaction. He could feel his face getting hot, and knew he must be blushing. "You have every right to be angry with me for spying on you, but I just couldn't help myself. I missed you so much. It had been so long, and...and you looked very alluring, Mary. You always have, and I know you always will to me."

Mary stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief.

"You really saw...everything?"

Matthew nodded guiltily.

"And you thought I looked...alluring?"

"Absolutely," he answered without hesitation. "You looked...womanly and nubile and...and these," he gently cupped her full breasts in his hands, "these were so full and perfect and just begging to be kissed and caressed."

Mary sighed at his touch, now even more potent with her current level of sensitivity.

"May I?" Matthew asked eagerly, his fingers already tugging on the straps of her nightgown.

Mary nodded her consent, no longer possessing the strength of will to fight him. He was her husband of, now, ten years, and she would trust in him and in his love for her. She must.

Matthew groaned appreciatively at the sight of her gorgeous breasts, so rounded and plump with new motherhood.

"Oh, Mary," he whispered hoarsely as he gently caressed her tender flesh. "Perfect. You're perfect to me."

Mary smiled happily at his reassuring words and relaxed into his arms, allowing him free access to caress her bosom to his heart's content. She couldn't stop her embarrassed blush when his touch caused her milk to leak slightly, but he quickly distracted her from her unease by gently swirling his tongue around her erect nipples, making her mewl with pleasure.

"So sweet," he purred against her breast. "My darling. My wife. Mother of my children. My life."

This time, Mary didn't protest when he tugged at the hem of her gown. On the contrary, she raised her hands to help him remove it. Matthew was her wonderful, kind, faithful, constant, and loving husband of an entire decade. If she could trust herself - her real self, with all her flaws, imperfections, and weaknesses - with anyone it was him.

His little words of praise, love, and encouragement didn't stop flowing as he placed himself over her once again, pushing into her gently as she wrapped her legs securely around his waist. Their passion burned hot and furious, their pace quickening with each passing moment. Mary reveled in the touch of his hands on her body, even those parts that had previously given her grief.

The sight of her beautiful husband moving above her, looking down on her with undisguised admiration as his hips moved against hers, banished the last of Mary's fears. Nearly undone, he curled his arms under her shoulders so that he could feel the smoothness of her damp skin as it slid against his.

"I love how soft you are," he rasped in her ear. "Soft, and beautiful, and...God, Mary, I'm going to...Oh, God!"

Mary whimpered his name as she followed him into bliss, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders to keep him close. One hand rubbed soothingly over the smooth surface of his back several times before eventually coming to rest at the base of his spine, fingers tangling in the soft patch of blonde hair that concealed a puckered, pale-pink scar.

"Ten years," Matthew whispered sleepily as he lay limp in her arms, his cheek pressed against her shoulder.

"Ten years," Mary echoed, turning to plant a soft kiss on his damp hair.

"Ten years ago this night when I first brought you to my bed at Crawley House and made you mine," Matthew continued, "I thought I could never love you more, and that you would never be more beautiful or more desirable than you were then."

He paused for a moment to prop himself up above her on one arm, and cupped her cheek in his free hand.

"Every single day for the past ten years...I've been proven wrong."

There was no other response to such a sentiment, in Mary's opinion, but to pull him back onto her and kiss him eloquently.

A piercing cry from the next room shattered their quiet interlude.

The earl and countess both released quiet groans at the interruption, but shared a fond smile at the reminder of their new son.

"I'll get him," Matthew volunteered. Mary watched with a bemused smile on her face as he rose and crossed the room to collect his dressing gown.

He disappeared and soon reappeared holding a squirming, but quiet, little bundle in his arms.

Matthew had been thrilled to see that their second son had inherited his mother's dark curls and chocolate eyes. Violet, William, and Ann had, all three, taken more after him, being fair in coloring and complexion. Reggie, however, was all his mother's.

After passing his precious burden into Mary's waiting arms, Matthew sat tentatively on the edge of the bed.

"Would you like me to leave?"

Mary's eyes flew to his face in alarm, feeling suddenly ashamed of the way she had shooed him from the room each time she had needed to feed Reggie. She had very nearly allowed her insecurities to come between them, and for that she was heartily sorry.

"No. Stay," she answered simply, holding back the edge of the blanket for him as he shucked his dressing gown and slid in.

Matthew watched as his wife expertly coaxed his son to nurse, marveling at the beautiful tenderness in her every look and touch as she cooed silly nothings in that velvety voice of hers. The reality of Mary's age meant that Reggie would, most likely, be their last baby, and he wanted to savor every moment.

Despite his resolve, by the time Reggie had done, Matthew lay softly snoring on his back, one hand resting on his wife's thigh. Mary smiled indulgently down at him as she gently rubbed Reggie's back to make sure he wasn't gassy. Once finished, she carefully placed the baby on Matthew's bare chest and watched lovingly as little Reggie snuggled into his father's warmth.

Ten years ago that very night, she had thought that she had achieved the epitome of happiness and contentment. How utterly wrong she had been! Much could change in a decade, both for good and for ill. Whatever the future held for the young Earl and Countess of Grantham, the first ten years had been bliss.

Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, I'd love to know what you thought. :D