Ok, so the last few days I have been really wanting to write a nice little bit of Sybil/Tom fluffy smut, but was completely at a loss on what to do. Ehbiencherie suggested something to do with all the snow and cold weather that a good portion of us are experiencing (lucky you all who are someplace warm this time of year!) and then I remembered some "joke posts" exchanged on Tumblr between Scarlet Court, LittlePoppett and Piperholmes about Allen Leech, hot tubs, and the fact that he's in Utah at the Sundance Film Festival, promoting his latest project, "In Fear". So, thanks in part to ALL FOUR of these fab ladies, as well as a little inspiration from Piperholmes' amazing photo manips of Allen *and* Jess together at Sundance (hence where the cover art comes from), THIS story was born...and I hope you enjoy the "activities" of Modern!Sybil and Tom, as they are...

"Snowed In at Sundance"
by The Yankee Countess

Sybil sighed as she looked out their hotel window. The sky was dark, but she wasn't entirely sure if that was because of clouds, or the thick snow that was beating down against the glass.

To put it plainly, they were in the midst of a blizzard—one of the worst blizzards in the region's history. And despite both her and her husband's wishes, she knew there was no way they were going to be flying back to Dublin tonight.

"Fecking hell," Tom swore, slamming the phone receiver down, before muttering a few more choice words in his native Irish.

She turned and looked at him with sympathy, because she felt the same way. "No luck, I presume?"

He only nodded his head. "Everything's canceled; and according to the hotel manager, not only are all flights being grounded right now, but they're advising everyone to stay indoors and avoid the roads as much as possible—they're not even going to let skiers out on the slopes, it's that dangerous, apparently."

Sybil gave him a bit of a lopsided grin. "Well, we didn't come here to ski."

"No, but we didn't come here to stay, either," he groaned, before flopping down onto a nearby chair, a severe and pouty grimace across his handsome face. She couldn't help but giggle at his expression. "Don't laugh," he grumbled, trying to sound stern. "Park City has been lovely, but it's time to go home—I want to go home," he sighed, knowing he probably sounded like a whiny child, but he didn't care. It was the truth…and it was one his wife shared, as well.

There were two reasons that people came to Park City, Utah: winter sports and the Sundance Film Festival. Tom and Sybil had come for the latter.

It was a small title film, about an Irish socialist marrying an English aristocrat and the two going against all odds to not only raise a family, but also survive during the turbulent years of Ireland's fight for independence in the 1920's. Tom had been working on it for years; the idea came to him while he was at university, and discovered some old journals kept by his great-great-grandfather in his mother's attic. The story was actually based on his great-great-grandfather's life, and Tom had originally planned on making it a novel. However, after Sybil got her hands on a rough copy, she insisted he consider making it a screenplay, believing with all her heart that people would love to see such a story and romance on screen. She wasn't too far off, apparently; the Irish Film Council seemed to support his efforts, and within six months of finishing the screenplay, he found a small, independent company (Piper-Poppett) willing to put money forth to bring it to life. He had only one condition—Sybil would play the lead role.

Tom had met Sybil in Dublin while he was working on the story (back when he still planned on keeping it as a novel). She had come to Dublin to study drama, which was a bit of a surprise, simply because he thought she could have gone anywhere in her native Britain, but chose to come to Ireland instead. And even though her family was quite well off, Sybil wanted the "full student experience", which included renting a tiny flat and getting by on a somewhat-lousy paying job, as a waitress in a coffee shop. It was in that coffee shop that the two of them had met; he with his head bent over his laptop, her bringing him his tea. The second their fingers touched…the rest, as they say, was history. He started coming to the coffee shop every day, and he always ordered the same thing. Within a week they were not only talking, but on a first name basis. A few weeks later, he mustered up the courage to ask her out on a proper date. Three months later, they had moved in together. That had been June; by December, they were engaged. And by the following April, they were married. Yes, it was a bit of a quickly-progressing relationship, but neither one of them seemed to mind. It all just felt…right.

Tom continued to write while Sybil wrapped up her years at drama school, and began finding some roles in several Dublin playhouses. She often volunteered to read and edit his work for him, just as he volunteered to go over lines with her for whatever script she was trying to memorize. Of course, the problem was that whenever they got to a love scene in those scripts, they somehow managed to find themselves "acting out" the part where it said on the page, "curtain closes and scene ends". It was easily assumed that it was during one of these "acting sessions" that Sybil got pregnant. It was a little sooner than they had originally planned, but they welcomed the birth of their daughter with open arms, and named her Soairse (after Tom's nan), who was now fourteen months, and who was absolutely adored by both sides of their families.

Sybil's eyes softened as they gazed down at husband, and moved across the room to where he was sitting, her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek. "I miss her too," she whispered, knowing he was thinking the same thing. Tom looked up at her and gave a small and somewhat sad smile, before taking her hand and bringing to his lips. This was the first time they had been parted from their daughter for more than two days, and while they couldn't deny it was nice being able to make it through an entire night without being woken once to change a nappy, it felt so strange to not see her rosy cheeks and sparking blue eyes, as she gurgled and giggled up at them, while reaching out and managing to say the word "DA!"

"I'm sure they'll have the runways cleared by tomorrow," Sybil tried to reassure. "Surely they're used to this sort of thing all the time! I'm sure everything will be up and working again at first light, and then we'll be on our way back to Dublin."

Tom appreciated what she was doing, and smiled up at his wife, before giving her hand, which he still held, a little tug, causing Sybil to happily lose her balance and fall onto his waiting lap. Sybil couldn't help but giggle and immediately began snuggling against her husband's broad chest, resting her head on his shoulder and enjoying the feel of his warm, muscular arms around her. "I'm sure your right," he sighed. "I just…I was looking forward—"

"I know," she turned her head and kissed his cheek. "Do you want to call—?"

He shook his head. "It's the middle of the night over there," he sighed, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. "And Mam already thinks we call too much; she's always going on about how 'Soairse is fine; Soairse is having a splendid time with all of us; really one call a day is more than enough; don't you trust me Tommy? I've raised six children, and Soairse is my fourth grandchild'—"

Sybil couldn't help but laugh at her husband's impression of her mother-in-law. "Yes, maybe we do overdo it a little when we call three times a day."

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. I just…I didn't realize how…how tiring this would all be, did you?"

Sybil understood what he meant. When the execs at Piper-Poppett told them that the picture had the opportunity to be showcased at the Sundance Film Festival, they both couldn't believe the amazing good fortune! The film was already scheduled for several small, independent festivals in Ireland and Britain, but to have the opportunity to be shown at Sundance could truly help get some international recognition and possibly attract a larger distributor. So with eager grins, both Tom and Sybil got their tickets along with other members of the cast and crew, and flew to Utah to attend the festival—and were utterly amazed, shocked, and somewhat overwhelmed, by the heavy schedules that greeted them. There were photo shoots, panel discussions, dozens upon dozens of interviews, not to mention attending the film's premiere and the party that followed. It was just as well that neither of them was into skiing, because they wouldn't have had the time! Indeed, every night when they managed to make it back to their hotel room, they were so exhausted that as soon as their heads hit the pillow, they were out cold. Which was a shame, Sybil couldn't deny…for the suite they had been given was rather romantic.

Yes, the second she walked into that room when they had arrived, her mind was flooded with at least several dozen wicked thoughts. The bed was a large, king-size mattress, with Egyptian cotton sheets that felt wonderful against the skin. At the far end of the room was a magnificent gas-powered fireplace, with a beautiful, white faux-fur rug that she loved walking across in her bare feet (and she could only imagine how wonderful it would feel against her naked back). But the jewel of the place, in Sybil's opinion, was the luxurious, marble hot tub that resided on the covered-balcony of their suite.

And it was shame that they hadn't had the chance to really enjoy any of these things for how they should be enjoyed…

…But perhaps that could change? After all, what else was there to do in the snowstorm?

"Here," she rose from his lap, and grinned at the little pout he made. She quickly leaned in and gave him a kiss, before coming around the chair and began slowly rubbing his shoulders and neck. "You are tense…" she murmured, working her fingers into his muscles, just the way she knew he loved.

Tom sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her fingers. She always knew the right ways and right places to touch him. "That feels great, love…" he groaned, rolling his head forward slightly to give her better access.

She grinned and bent down to kiss the top of his head. "I know that this blizzard hasn't helped with the stress," she murmured into his ear as she continued massaging him. "And I know this entire trip hasn't exactly been a holiday…" A snort escaped his nose at her words. "But…that doesn't mean we can't try to enjoy ourselves a little now…"

He opened his eyes and turned his face to her slightly, his brow furrowed in question at her words. She simply smiled and kissed his brow, before urging him to get up. "What do you say we finally take a dip in that hot tub of ours?"

Tom's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Are you serious?" he asked, before turning his head towards their balcony which was quickly collecting snow in its corners. While the balcony was covered and somewhat enclosed, it was only surrounded by a simple screen, and that didn't prevent some of the snow from getting inside. Not to mention it would be a great temperature difference between their hotel suite, and space outside. "We'll freeze!"

"No we won't!" Sybil insisted. "The hot tub will keep us warm! Ski Lodges like this have outdoor hot tubs almost everywhere!" He was still looking unsure and skeptical, and Sybil knew it was time to bring out the big guns. "Oh come on, Tom…please?"

He groaned the second he saw her pout that beautiful lower lip of hers. He thought the idea mad, to be honest; as alluring as the bubbling warm waters sounded, it was crazy to think about leaving the dry warmth of their suite for the blizzard outside. And yet…he could see that little flicker of mischief in her eyes. She's up to something…

"I don't think I packed my bathing—"

"Oh who cares about that?" Sybil said with a dismissive wave. "It's our own private hot tub, we don't need—"

He leapt to his feet. "You want me to go out onto that thing, in this weather, stark naked?" he asked with wide eyes. "Have you lost your mind?"

Sybil groaned and threw her arms up. "Yes, actually, yes I have! I'm just…I'm tired, Tom; I'm tired of walking all over this city, from one venue to the next, promoting this picture which I'm proud of acting in and proud of you for writing, but…" she lowered her face to her hands and let out a frustrated moan, before continuing. "But…you do realize this is a romance, yes? This picture? A romance about an Irishman and Englishwoman—"

"Of course I know what it's about," he muttered, a little affronted by question. "I wrote the bloody thing!"

"EXACTLY!" Sybil exclaimed. "And yet…here we are, in this gorgeous, romantic hotel suite, and for the first time in over a year, not having to worry about running and checking on a screaming child, who I do miss with all my heart, but…" she sighed and turned towards the balcony and gazed at the unused hot tub with longing. "We've spent so much time working and promoting this beautiful, romantic story about two people who are not so different from ourselves…and…and yet…"

He crossed the small space between them and wrapped his arms around her. Sybil let out a grateful sigh and sagged her body against his. He understood his frustrations, and yes, like him she was eager to go home, see their daughter, and at least for a little while, let their lives return to normal. But after so many screenings and interviews about the romance between an Englishwoman and Irishman, Sybil found that right now, the thing she longed for more than anything was having some time alone to romance and be romanced by her own Irishman.

"Alright," he murmured into her hair, a soft chuckle in his throat. "But if I get frostbite on any—" His words died in his throat as she took one of his hands in hers…and wrapped her lips around one of his fingers…and began to suck on it.

That chuckle quickly became a groan, and he could feel a definite tightening in his trousers.

Sybil smiled as she released his finger, giving the tip a little nip with her teeth. "Don't worry, darling," she whispered. "I won't let any appendage of yours freeze."

Oh God in heaven. His fingers threaded in her hair and he quickly brought her beautiful face to his, his lips covering hers in a sudden, passion-filled kiss. Good Lord, they hadn't made love since before they left Ireland. The festival had kept them far too busy, and had taken far too much energy. Yes, it was exciting to be here, but God, he missed this; he missed feeling her body pressed against his, writhing and arching against him. He missed seeing that fire, that desire in her eyes, he missed feeling it against his skin, her body and his molding together, becoming one—

Tom gasped as he felt her mouth slip away from his. He opened his eyes as he felt her hands gently push against his shoulders…and realized, as she cleverly managed to slip out of his embrace…that she was smiling and beginning to unsnap her jeans…and roll them down her legs.

"So…is that a yes then to the hot tub, Mr. Branson?"

Tom grabbed the ends of his shirt and quickly pulled it over his head in one, swift motion. "As if I could ever say 'no' to you, Ms. Crawley," he gently teased, knowing it would earn him a swat, which he was right. He took advantage of that moment and pulled her back against him, his mouth covering hers once more, his tongue pushing past her lips and kissing her so deeply she was gasping for breath.

"MmmMmmmm—Tom," she managed to whimper as she felt his lips leave hers and begin traveling down her neck to her throat.

"Yes, Ms. Crawley?" he growled against her skin, nipping it slightly, as his hands moved up under her sweater, feeling the beautiful, smooth skin of her back.

"Stop that," she tried to sound stern, despite the delicious magic his mouth was causing. "We're not at some…some press conference…" she moaned, as his lips found her earlobe and gently began to suck on it. "It's Mrs. Branson to you sir."

"Yes, Mrs. Branson," he growled into her ear, while he nibbled on the skin below it. "Whatever you say, Mrs. Branson…"

Before their marriage, Sybil had made a bit of a name for herself on the Dublin stage. Therefore, Tom supported her in keeping her maiden name as her stage/professional name. But in their personal lives, Sybil insisted on being referred to as Mrs. Sybil Branson.

She pushed against his chest again, although this time she had to use a little more force than before. "To be continued, sir," she grinned, before moving towards the door that led out onto their balcony. Tom watched with hungry eyes as she pulled her sweater up over her head, followed by her camisole…and groaned as he took in the beauty of her just standing there in her bra and panties. They were black lace, and beautifully annunciated her round hips and full breasts. Tom loved a woman with curves, and Sybil's were gorgeous. But those luscious curves became even more mouth-watering for him during and after her pregnancy, and just seeing her now, with only a bit of black lace covering her—God, he wasn't sure if his own trousers would be able to easily come off due to the blazing erection that was tenting beneath the fabric.

"OH!" Sybil gasped, as she opened the door. Indeed, a blast of cold air hit him square in the chest, and he bit back a curse from the feel of it. Yet Sybil, his beautiful Sybil, only laughed and he watched as she yelped and laughed as she quickly dashed across the cold balcony floor to the hot tub, and pulled back the covering. Tom watched as she dipped a hand into the water, and saw a satisfied smile spread across her face. "It's perfect!" she practically shouted from outside.

"Don't freeze, love, get in!" he scolded, more concerned for her well-being than for anything else.

Sybil laughed and then nibbled her bottom lip…as she reached behind her back…and unclasped her bra, before teasingly pulling the straps down her arms, cross her hands in front of her breasts to keep the cups in place…before finally letting the lace fall from her body, revealing her luscious creamy breasts to his gaze. It didn't matter how many times they had made love in the past; the sight of his wife, naked, would always manage to rob him of his breath.

"Love…" he growled with longing, as well as bit of warning. He enjoyed the strip tease, but he would feel a great deal better once he knew she was in that water.

She rolled her eyes, but only slightly, before poking her tongue out, and then turning her back on him, and rolling her panties down, deliberately bending over and mooning him, causing him to groan and his cock to harden even more at the sight of her delicious, pert rump in the air. God, the things he wanted to do—right, that was it.

Sybil turned back and smiled as she sank her body into the warm, inviting waters of the hot tub, flicking a little switch just off the side, letting the water bubble and boil around her, making the water feel even more soothing against her skin. Mmmmmm…it was heavenly. But her eyes were fixed on her husband, who was quickly trying to dispense his body of his suddenly, very tight-fitted trousers. She couldn't help but admire the reason to why his trousers had become so tight…and she certainly felt her own mouth water as he finally managed to release his body from their hold…and now only stand before her in his tight, black, boxer-briefs. Yes…Tom's body left little to the imagination…

He was finally naked, and Sybil grinned as he wasted no time coming out onto the balcony. "FUCK!" he swore, as a blast of cold wind hit him. "I don't know love," he practically shouted over the roar of the wind. "This weather may prove to be damaging to…well…" he glanced down at his body.

She held her hand out to him and he wasted no time in climbing up the little steps into the hot tub. "Then I shall have to work extra hard to keep you warm and ready, won't I?"

Tom felt his blood heat up, and he knew it had nothing to do with the water…although now that he was finally in its depths, he couldn't deny that yes…it felt very, very good.

"Ooooohhhh…" he groaned, letting his head fall back slightly, until the water was up to his chin. "Oh God, this feels wonderful…"

"It's about to feel even more wonderful…" murmured a naughty voice, and he opened his eyes and smiled as she waded towards him, wrapping one arms around his shoulders, her hands entwining around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at his nape, while her body straddled him, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist, and her mouth covering his just as he had kissed her in the suite.

Tom's own arms enfolded her, one hand moving up her back and tangling in her own hair, pulling her even closer as he returned the kiss, while his other moved down her body, pressing against the flesh of her rump, squeezing the skin, pulling her even closer to where he needed her—where they both needed each other.

"CHRIST!" Tom swore, gasping as one of her hands had glided beneath the water's surface, and had wrapped itself around his cock…which thanks to the bubbling water and her delicious body, was rock hard once again.

"See?" she moaned against his mouth. "I'll keep you warm, Mr. Branson." Tom hissed in pleasure as her expert fingers began to rub and squeeze and pump his cock.

"Promise?" he gasped, his own fingers moving between her legs from behind…and surprising her by inserting his middle finger into her body.

"TOM!"

He grinned, feeling rather proud for being able to shock and pleasure her just as she had done to him. "Mmmmmm…" he growled against her mouth as he resumed kissing her, savoring the sweetness of her parted lips. "I think…" he groaned as his own finger pumped in and out of her. "That this…might even be hotter…than the water around us?"

She looked at him with passion-filled eyes. "Only one way to find out…"

He groaned and kissed her deeply again, both their mouths fused together, their tongues making love to each other's mouths while his hands grabbed her hips and brought her fully against his cock. With her help, she took his cock and brought him inside her, sliding down onto him and gasping with pleasure, as once again their bodies were connected.

"Yessssssssss…" she hissed at the sweet feeling of her body filled with his again.

"Sybil…" he groaned her name, and then pushed her back against the wall of the hot tub, and with both his hands gripping the edges, he began to move and pump his body in and out of hers. Sybil gasped and moaned with pleasure, her own hands gripping his dampened shoulders, her nails scratching the skin, leaving little pink marks. She loved this, seeing the muscular power of his forearms surrounding her as his hands gripped the hot tub. His lower body was moving so quickly, like a fiery piston, that she was quite literally pinned to the hot tub wall, but she didn't care. She loved it; she loved the feeling of him, inside her and all around her.

"Sybil…" he gasped again, and she knew why. He was close, very, very close.

"Let go, darling," she gasped. "Let go…fill me, please…cum inside me!"

"SYBIL!" he exploded then, her words sending him over the edge. Her arms enfolded him, clasping him close to her, bringing his chest fully flushed against hers, her head falling back so he could bury his own against her neck as the shivers of his orgasm rode his body.

"Oh God…" he groaned, panting against her skin. "I…I…"

"I know," she giggled, her legs and arms still cocooning and holding him close, refusing to release his body from hers.

He managed to lift his head and look into her eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't—"

"I wanted you to," she interrupted him. Tom could spend hours pleasuring her, bringing her orgasm after orgasm, but he always seemed to beat himself up whenever he came before she did. "And besides…" she grinned, pushing him slightly, urging him to move his shaky legs until he was sitting now on a seat beneath the water. "We're far from finished."

He grinned up at her…and groaned as he felt her body untangle from his, but only for a moment, so as to switch and shift positions, until now she was straddling his thighs…and lifting her body just slightly out of the water, her hands digging into the muscles at his shoulders…and she began to sink her body back down onto his…until he was once again, fully sheathed inside her. "Glad to hear it," he growled, his hands holding her hips and helping her move as she began to ride him beneath the water.

It was his turn to be "pinned down", so to speak. Tom groaned and smiled as he watched his beautiful wife push herself up and down on his shoulders, sliding up and down on his cock. His body was still coming down from his orgasm, and therefore her movements heightened his pleasure even more than before.

Her breasts were rising and falling out of the water, and from this position, were temptingly close to his face. "I think you're exposing yourself to too much cold air…" he growled, lifting his eyes up to hers.

She grinned, before moaning as she lowered herself again onto him. "Then…you…best…do…something…about…that…"

He chuckled, before wrapping his lips around one of her puckered nipples, and sucking the bud between his teeth, before nipping it and causing her to whimper for more. As he shifted his focus to her other breast, his fingers moved beneath the water, and he rubbed his knuckles against the dark curls between her legs.

"TOM!" she gasped, feeling the tips of his knuckles brush over her clitoris.

"Keep riding, love," he growled, between suckles, his lips moving back and forth from one nipple to the other, while his knuckles kept moving back and forth in a wonderful, and intense friction against her clit.

She nodded her head, the ability to talk too much, other than mewling her pleasure with various incoherent moans. Tom wrapped his other arm around her waist, helping her lift and bring her body back down upon his, his own hips rising a little off the bench, thrusting hard up into her, feeling her pleasure mount and rise with each gasp. "Do m'éileamh is mo stór," he growled against her skin. "Lig tú féin dul!"

She threw her head back and screamed, shattering all around him and against him, and he felt himself shatter again too, his body squeezed so wonderfully by hers. He slumped back into the water, and Sybil, still clinging and clutching him, kissed his mouth with trembling lips, panting and moaning his name over and over. "Tom…oh Tom…I…I love you…"

"Is breá liom tú," he moaned against her mouth. "Le mo chroí go léir."

They basked in the warmth of the water and each other's bodies, murmuring words of love between kisses. They held each other for a long time, their bodies never really parting, the both of them still connected. Finally, Sybil did disentangle herself from him, but only moved to his side, his arm still wrapped around her waist, and her head now resting on his shoulder. From beneath the warm water they gazed up at the spiraling and swirling snowflakes that blew and danced overhead, the steam of the hot tub rising up to join them. Despite the harshness of the weather…there was something rather beautiful about it.

"Aren't you glad you listened to me?" she giggled at one point, turning her head to kiss his chest. "Wasn't this a good idea?"

"No," he murmured, surprising her slightly. However, when he turned his head to her she saw the mischief in his eyes. "This was a great idea; all we need now is a rubber duckie."

She laughed and kissed him properly, and it didn't take long for that kiss to intensify.

"I'm afraid we'll have to go back in, sweetheart," she sighed as his lips began to kiss across her face. "After all…we don't want to become a pair of prunes."

He sighed, knowing she was right. Besides, as wonderful as it felt to be in the warm, relaxing waters of the hot tub, he knew it wasn't a good idea for the two of them to be out in the cold for too long. "We'll have to make a mad dash; especially since we didn't bring any towels or robes."

"The one small failing of my plan," she sighed. "Alright then…on three?"

He nodded his head and the two of them counted off. As soon as they hit three, they both burst up out of the water, swearing and laughing as the cold wind hit their wet, steam-covered bodies, and as quickly as possible, scrambled out of the tub and dashed across the cold pavement of the balcony, Sybil grabbing her bra and panties on the way, and hurrying back inside. Tom moved quickly to get them both some towels, and immediately went to work wrapping the cloth around his wife and toweling her dry. She did the same for him, and she smiled and purred as his hands seemed to spend a little longer than necessary on certain portions of her anatomy. "What?" he asked innocently. "Some parts of you are wetter than others."

Sybil gasped, both at his words, and at his naughty and clever fingers. She grabbed a hold of his wrist and dragged him over the fireplace (well, she didn't really drag him, he followed quite willingly). It was time to make the other part of this hotel fantasy come into being. "We must keep you warm and dry as well, you know," she said rather sternly, leaning over and flipping the switch next to the fireplace, watching as it roared to life thanks to the power of gas. However, Tom was caught unawares by what she did next…which was suddenly sink to her knees on the faux-fur rug, and take his cock into her mouth.

"JESUS, Sybil!" he gasped, his hands instantly tangling in her wet hair as she began to bob her head up and down on his length, sucking more and more of him in her mouth. It didn't take very long before he could feel his pleasure mounting, ready to explode. But he had already cum twice, and she still needed to catch up. "Lie down," he managed to growl, while gently pulling her away.

Sybil pouted a little, but did as he said, moaning at the extravagant feel of the soft rug against her back. Yes…she had dreamt of this…

Tom began raining kisses all over her body; her face, her throat, her shoulders, her chest, including some extra special attention to her breasts and nipples. She was gasping and purring with need by the time he kissed down her belly…teasing her as he slipped past the area she needed him most, kissing her thighs, all the way down to one ankle, before she was muttering his name in frustration. He chuckled, and began kissing up her leg…licking the water droplets off the inside of her thigh…and holding her gaze…before descending his mouth to her core and driving his tongue deep inside.

"OH GOD!" she gasped, her toes curling as his tongue made love to her body. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she writhed and whimpered beneath him, his hands gripping her hips and holding them steady while he moved his tongue in and out of her, and then flicked it over and over against her clitoris. She was so close; he could feel it, he could taste it, and he didn't stop sucking and licking and lapping at her clit until she shattered once again against him. "TOM!" she screamed, loud enough for any other guests nearby to hear.

He wanted her again; now that she had awoken the beast in him, there was no going back. "Get on your knees," he growled, and Sybil, barely coherent from the incredible orgasm he had just given her, simply nodded her head and rolled over onto her belly. She had barely lifted herself off the ground, before she felt Tom's hands grip her backside and pull her against his throbbing cock. "Yessssss…" he hissed, his body once again joining hers, and he began to rock himself in and out of her, his fingers gripping her hips, while her own fingers gripped the edges of the rub. He meant to start slowly, but once he was inside her again, he couldn't stop. His thrusts became harder, and deeper, and Sybil was panting his name over and over, encouraging him with each whimper and moan, thrusting her rump back, rocking her body with his, her upper half down on her elbows, her arms feeling so weak from pleasure that was coursing through her. Within a few more deep, firm strokes, his body stiffened and he gasped and hissed as the pleasure shot through him, and then shot through her, both of them crying out for the other, and collapsing on the rug, his body pulling hers against him, cradling and spooning her to his chest.

"Oooohhh Tom…" she moaned, purring his name and smiling, even though he couldn't see her face. His own was buried against her hair, which was drying rather quickly thanks to the fire. "That…that…"

"Was amazing," he finished for her, which was exactly what she had been thinking.

She giggled and nodded her head. "Yes…I…I think we managed to include at least…a third…of the love scenes the script left to the viewer's imagination."

He chuckled and kissed the back of her neck. "If we had included them, I don't know if the film could have been released at Sundance—but a very different sort of film festival."

"A 'strictly-at-home' film festival," she added, which earned a warm chuckle and a hearty agreement from her husband.

They lay like that on the floor, the fire glowing behind them, keeping them warm just as their arms and legs were keeping them warm, snuggled close like this. Despite the disappointment of having to wait to return home and see their daughter, Sybil and Tom were happy that they had had this opportunity to relax and reconnect after a busy week of promoting their film. And Sybil was especially glad that all the romantic dreams she had about this hotel suite were finally coming true.

Well…almost all.

"Tom, as wonderful as it is to lie here like this, we're both going to feel stiff as boards if we stay here much longer."

He groaned, half awake and half asleep, but awake enough to see her logic and nod his head in agreement. "Aye…" he sighed, before lifting himself up onto his feet and helping her, and the two of them moving quickly to the large bed, and sinking under the soft, luxurious warmth of its sheets.

"Perfect…" she sighed, snuggling close and laying her head in the crook of his arm. Tom nodded his head in agreement, his eyes instantly closing as he gathered her against him, ready, finally, to get some sleep.

However…he was noticing that despite her purr about the bed feeling perfect, she was fidgeting a great deal. "Everything alright, love?"

Sybil sighed and he opened his eyes to see her pouting.

"What's wrong?" His voice was filled with concern…however, he soon realized that her pout had other purposes.

"Well…it's just…it's just not fair," she sighed somewhat dramatically. "I mean, you stopped me before I could finish…"

Despite the fact that his body felt knackered from their love-making, it didn't seem to take very long for his cock to more or less, "spring" to attention. "Oh?" he managed to squeak…as he watched her look at him with devilish glee.

She nodded her head…and began to slip beneath the sheets. "MmmmHmmm," she simply murmured, kissing down his chest…his belly…and he held his breath, until finally she reached her goal at last, robbing him of all speech, save for several guttural groans of pleasure as her tongue and lips tantalized and tortured him the same way he had done to her on the rug.

It take long for him succumb to the mounting pleasure. And even after that, she more or less insisted that they make love at least one more time, this time on their sides, spooning one another. When sleep was finally allowed, Tom didn't have the energy to remove his body from hers, but Sybil didn't seem to mind. They fell asleep tangled together; sheets, legs, arms, and bodies. The next day, the roads were ploughed, the runways were open, and the Branson's found themselves on the first available flight back to Dublin.

Hours later, they had arrived safely home and were greeted by members of Tom's family, including little Soairse who reached out for both of them with a big rosy-cheeked grin. As the parents embraced their daughter, Tom's mother asked, "So how was it? Hope you managed to slip in some holiday time, and it wasn't all work, work, work."

Tom and Sybil exchanged a knowing glance, and quickly joined hands, while trying their best to keep their blushing smiles from revealing too much. "We did what we could," Tom murmured, his eyes holding Sybil's.

She nodded her head, before turning and smiling innocently at her mother-in-law. "Again and again," she added.

THE END

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Irish Translations:
Do m'éileamh is mo stór—come for me my darling
Lig tú féin dul—let yourself go
Is breá liom tú—I love you
Le mo chroí go léir—with all my heart