Work Text:
Grant called the children from the townhouse.
She’d wanted to leave him to it, to allow him to tell his children what he needed.
But as she’d made to slip out of the room he caught her wrist and pulled her to him, urging her to sit on his knee and listen in with him.
“We’re coming home.” He said, to a quiet buzzing on the line.
“Who is ‘we’?” Penny asked suspiciously, her voice going high and childlike. She could be so mature and yet so very young, so much like her mother.
“Me. And Aunt Sabrina.” Grant’s arm squeezed around her middle when he felt her tense as though to flee.
“Is she coming back to be our mother?” Mark this time, his suspicion even harsher. He was so young, so sweet, and so easily bruised by the world. They’d wounded these children so deeply, she and Stephanie. But all she could do was be there for them, and try to repair the damage. She owed her sister that much, and she loved the children even more.
“Yes,” Sabrina whispered then cleared her throat. She spoke again, more firmly. “Yes, I am. If that’s ok with you?”
The silence lasted forever, or so it seemed, before the line burst with whoops of joy and squeals of laughter made unintelligible by static.
“When will you be home?” The kids asked breathlessly, and Grant stunned her with his answer.
“A few days. Dimi will stay with you, but we have a few things to take care of here in London. But we’ll be home soon.”
When they hung up, Sabrina’s cheeks were wet.
“Home.” She repeated, and curled her arms around Grant’s neck.
Sabrina decided she needed a shower. Anxiety and fear had left her sweaty and uncomfortable, and she wanted nothing more than to rinse away the day and replace the heavy fur with a robe and a nightcap.
Grant decided they needed a shower, and followed her into the extra wide stall that was designed especially to accommodate two.
They had only stepped into the pouring spray when Grant molded himself to her back and his hand sliding around her waist to nestle her against his chest. He kissed her neck and flattened his hand, pressing firm between her thighs before cupping her.
“I’ve missed you,” He whispered against her neck. “May I?”
Who was she to deny him? The water sluiced over them, rinsing away the fright and agitation of the day, and the press of Grant’s fingers inside her blanked out her mind save for an insistent hum of pleasure.
She could feel his erection, hot and heavy, nestled against her lower back. She was surrounded by Grant, his scent and his arms, his powerful thighs bracketing hers. His fingers worked furiously, sliding in and out of her, needy and strong. He easily drew the bow of her desire even tighter.
His left hand cupped her breast, plucking almost painfully at the nipple, and Sabrina moaned. Her head lolled back onto Grant’s shoulder and she opened her legs wider.
Her wantonness had Grant thrusting against her, aching for just a little friction to ease the tension, and he bit at the tendon in her neck in frustration and desire.
She wanted so much more of him. All of him.
She couldn’t stop the sharp cries of passion, didn’t smother them the way she would have only a short time ago. There wasn’t shame here, not anymore. It had washed away, swirling down the drain, incinerated by this new searing heat..
Sabrina cried out again, this time a keening wail, as pleasure crashed over her. She pressed her palms to the wall, holding herself upright. Her hips undulated against his slowing hands and she could feel his chest fill with air behind her.
She spun in his arms and wrapped her left arm around his neck.
“Ste—.” He began, but she couldn’t stand to hear it. Not here, not now. Not when everything was beautifully and gloriously new. The name was a reflex born of years, but wouldn’t stop the slice to her newly tender heart.
Her tongue swept into his mouth, stealing the syllables from his lips and the breath from his lungs.
Her hand, impossibly assured, closed tightly around his erection. Grant had no time to object, and no will, as she worked her fist over him. It was his turn to brace against the wall, holding them up even as his knees turned weak. He was helpless in her grasp, had been almost from the start, and as his control began to slip so did his hold on whatever reservations he had left.
She was so very good at this, he thought. His last thought, before a roaring filled his ears and she brushed her thumb over his sensitive tip, sly and purposeful. He erupted between them, his own release a long and deep growl of satisfaction.
The echoes of his groan seemed to hang in the steam, his hips continuing to jerk until he slumped his weight onto Sabrina.
Grant’s body, so heavy in its boneless release, was an achingly welcome weight pinning her in place. She wanted to stay there, held out of time, in this moment that contained only the two of them. She kissed the skin over his heart over and over again, whispering words of love as incantations and promises, until he began to stir. The water of the shower cooled by degrees, well on its way to exhausting the supply.
“We have to clean up,” He motioned to the sticky mess between them and Sabrina nodded towards a bar of soap and a neatly folded washcloth on a shelf beside them. He had washed her once before and she felt the swirl of his hands over her back like a brand, every inch burning with guilt. He washed her now with the same gentleness, the same playful dipping around soft curves. This time she didn’t wriggle away.
“Quickly, before the water goes cold.” She instructed, before giving herself over to the strength of his hands and the slide of the washcloth over her skin.
$$$
“This is interesting.” Grant watched their reflections in the mirror above them. Leave it to Sabrina to hang mirrors over her bed, to enjoy watching herself. Weeks ago, Grant might have thought those sentiments with spite. But now, having begun to understand the woman who wasn’t his wife, but in many of the most important ways absolutely was, there was only appreciation. Of her, of her boldness, of the confidence she carried and spread. She was a furious and luminous spark, lighting his family back to life. He’d seen it in her eyes from the day she came home from Venice. He simply hadn’t known exactly what he was looking at, or how she would change them all.
Sabrina covered her face with her hand, giggling at his odd expression, although she wasn’t a bit ashamed. Grant had so much to learn about her, so much she had been hiding behind the facade of a dutiful housewife. She’d given him a taste in the shower, but they had so much more to look forward to.
Sabrina’s smile was wicked in their reflection, but it was her third finger, so naked, that caught Grant’s eye. He laced her fingers with his and held her reflected gaze. He brought their clasped hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to where her wedding ring should - and soon would - stay. Her laughter died away, replaced by a very contented, wistful smile.
The enormity of all they had to discuss was overwhelming, something that Grant continued to push away. There was time to figure it out. Tomorrow. The next day. Or the one after that. He was far more concerned with learning more about the woman beside him.
And, if he was perfectly honest, the most interesting parts at the moment were entirely physical.
He’d made love with Sabrina before, but never without the glamor of Stephanie between them. In the satin sheets of her four poster bed, their lovemaking reflected in multiple surfaces around the room, it would be entirely new.
“Is this our honeymoon?” Sabrina asked, laughing once more at the absurdity, then sobering when she realized how much she wanted it. Wanted to marry this man, for real and forever, if only the tangled threads of their lives would allow it.
She loved him. She was so in love with him her chest ached with it.
“I love you.” She said it, a little giddy at the ease with which the words came. She’d bitten them back so often, disgusted with herself for her weakness, that it was a wonder she could say them at all. Grant’s bright blue eyes sparkled, his besotted expression her undoing. It had been hard enough to resist when it was meant for Stephanie. But to know it was her, it was Sabrina that he saw, she knew it was time.
Time for him to be with her, fully.
His amused smirk melted into lust when she threw back the sheets, exposing them to the mirror above and the cool air of her room. Then, without missing a beat, she threw her thigh over him and perched atop, dragging his hands up over his head.
He arched his neck and closed his lips over her nipple, his teeth scraping just on the edge of painful. He would give himself over to her, but he would hold his own, matching her beat for beat.. He switched to her other nipple, and hummed into her flesh.
“God, you’re so beautiful.” The words were muffled by her flesh, his tongue drawing lines over her. “So fucking sexy.”
That was all it took, she marveled, as she ground herself on his thigh, spreading the moisture already pooling. Most men had to work harder, but Grant had only to love her and she melted for him.
She lowered her face to his, their lips hovering. It was a vague approximation of their first night together, when he’d come to her bed with a demand and a plea. He’d kissed her softly then, gently easing her backwards. And just as she had then, she relented, opening her mouth to his sweeping tongue.
Opening her heart.
Hunger and want and need all coalesced when he slipped inside her. She was so slick, so welcoming and yet so forceful. She did not lay back and let him have his way. She took, demanded, nibbled and clawed and drove him to the peak.
They crashed together, heat and intensity, the force of their coupling creating a new universe that began and ended with the two of them.
They wove their fingers together, even as they wove their bodies and their very lives. With eyes locked, they chased fulfillment, her adventurous nature inspiring him to pleasures yet unknown to him. Their hearts thundered, their bodies shuddered.
And hours later, when the bed was beyond disarray, pillows and sheets twisted and tossed around the room, they curled into one another, her ear over his heart, listening as it slowed from a gallop to a steady, sure beat.
Sabrina, he’d said as he filled her, and her heart had burst, a shuddering sob and a pleasured moan twisting together. Sabrina my love.
“Sabrina,” He said it again,now, with wonder in his tone. It was as if he’d known her all along, and yet was meeting her for the very first time. Time folding over itself, rearranging the world they knew into something greater. Miracles and magic and things impossible were just within reach as long as she was by his side.
“Sabrina,” Once more. Because he needed her to know that he knew who she was, who he loved, who he wanted for all time.
“Will you marry me?”