She has a magic touch. Normally it sends fire though him, heats him all the way to the core and pools low in his belly. Now? It sends gentle warmth, just like the bath, easing tension in his muscles, letting them ease. He doesn't relax as a rule. Theres some nonchalance in him, cockiness, but it's not the same as being relaxed.
For the most part it's to put other people off. This is wonderful.
It's like looking for a gold nugget under the dirt, or his smile, out from under all that blood. Happy to get her fingers dirty, just to find something that brilliant and shining. Smoothing away all the chips and flecks, just to find him.
She didn't know when she started thinking of him like that, but she wasn't going to question it right now. It was all she needed as she works her fingers against his upper arm on his uninjured side.
"You're not tearing those stitches." She scrapes her teeth on the side of her lower lip, looking over him. "... So you're going to have to take it slow. Doctor's orders."
He's not gold. Iron pyrite, perhaps, in a good light. She thinks too much of him, when she's smart and beautiful and funny. She always has been, been a bright light in the murky darkness of his life. He hasn't ever voiced that, he doesn't quite know how he should, or even if doing so would spoil everything forever.
But he's certain on one thing: his life is so much better with her as an integral part of it. He doesn't deserve her, but he'll hold onto her with both hands if he can.
"Is that the doctor that lost his licence to practise medicine or your orders?"
"Mine." She leans over, hanging above him teasingly. Or what she must be at least a little bit teasing, despite the exhaustion he must be feeling - her in nothing but underwear and stockings and big gaudy earrings. That little bit of wine still on her lips. "My orders are way more rewarding, I think you'll find."
Slowly, she cups water in her right hand and lifts it, to splash it languidly over his chest, to begin to wash away the soap bubbles. Reveal him clean below it that she runs her fingers over with no pretext of just enjoying touching him before she reaches the water, and once more cups the water to drip it over him in another section.
Oh it does tease him, terribly. Especially when she leans so close, the spark in her eyes just waiting to catch and, well, has Jacob ever been good at denying anything?
So as she leans in, he shifts, so he can catch her lips with his own. Brief, because the movement does make all his muscles scream in protest, and because if he tries to get away with anything else she'll no doubt tell him off.
But a little kiss? He owes her that much. More, in truth, but as the water splashes down his chest, followed by her hand, he knows he's probably going to repay some of that kindness soon enough.
Leaning into it with a smile, dragging her lips slowly over his languidly. Even if he'd protest the thought ( how different he was sometimes, it was never about proving with him, it was about giving, he always wanted to give, so, so much ), she knew he was too tired for more. It had been a long night. More so than for him, than for her. A lazy way she drags the affection in the gesture out from between his lips, her fingers slipping up his neck.
A little kiss? How could she protest that?
When she pulls back, she licks her lips, dragging her teeth slow over the skin. She never got sick of it. Never got sick of him. It never made any sense, in its way. She'd liked plenty of people. Good and bad, stupid and fun, thoughtful and cruel. But none of them made her whole heart tense up like his smile did when he turned it on her.
"Can't reach all of you."
It's a terrible excuse for what it is: an excuse to touch him. Reaffirm that he was alive and safe and not going anywhere tonight at least. She's going to lose him one of these days, she knows. This isn't made to last. But it was made to be good while it was. Her legs lift, and - doesn't bother to get out of her underwear, as she slowly dips her toes into the warm water, stockings and all. Sliding the rest of herself to follow. Navigating it all particularly, to make sure she didn't bump him, hurt him, but in turn: shifts her so she drops low and slowly begins to crawl her way up to his body through an idle drift in the water until her knees shift to settle either side of his hips. A little nudge as light as she can possibly make herself, she settles into his lap. "Okay?"
Because her needs right now didn't mean anything, if he was even a little bit hurt by her. Not even letting herself sink down completely just to make sure, as the water laps around her chest.
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no subject
For the most part it's to put other people off. This is wonderful.
"If I'm in bed with you, I won't be resting."
no subject
She didn't know when she started thinking of him like that, but she wasn't going to question it right now. It was all she needed as she works her fingers against his upper arm on his uninjured side.
"You're not tearing those stitches." She scrapes her teeth on the side of her lower lip, looking over him. "... So you're going to have to take it slow. Doctor's orders."
no subject
But he's certain on one thing: his life is so much better with her as an integral part of it. He doesn't deserve her, but he'll hold onto her with both hands if he can.
"Is that the doctor that lost his licence to practise medicine or your orders?"
no subject
Slowly, she cups water in her right hand and lifts it, to splash it languidly over his chest, to begin to wash away the soap bubbles. Reveal him clean below it that she runs her fingers over with no pretext of just enjoying touching him before she reaches the water, and once more cups the water to drip it over him in another section.
no subject
So as she leans in, he shifts, so he can catch her lips with his own. Brief, because the movement does make all his muscles scream in protest, and because if he tries to get away with anything else she'll no doubt tell him off.
But a little kiss? He owes her that much. More, in truth, but as the water splashes down his chest, followed by her hand, he knows he's probably going to repay some of that kindness soon enough.
no subject
A little kiss? How could she protest that?
When she pulls back, she licks her lips, dragging her teeth slow over the skin. She never got sick of it. Never got sick of him. It never made any sense, in its way. She'd liked plenty of people. Good and bad, stupid and fun, thoughtful and cruel. But none of them made her whole heart tense up like his smile did when he turned it on her.
"Can't reach all of you."
It's a terrible excuse for what it is: an excuse to touch him. Reaffirm that he was alive and safe and not going anywhere tonight at least. She's going to lose him one of these days, she knows. This isn't made to last. But it was made to be good while it was. Her legs lift, and - doesn't bother to get out of her underwear, as she slowly dips her toes into the warm water, stockings and all. Sliding the rest of herself to follow. Navigating it all particularly, to make sure she didn't bump him, hurt him, but in turn: shifts her so she drops low and slowly begins to crawl her way up to his body through an idle drift in the water until her knees shift to settle either side of his hips. A little nudge as light as she can possibly make herself, she settles into his lap. "Okay?"
Because her needs right now didn't mean anything, if he was even a little bit hurt by her. Not even letting herself sink down completely just to make sure, as the water laps around her chest.