Jake wasn't loud when he came, not like Sansa, but he wrapped his arms around her as she rode out her climax, his mouth suckling on her neck. She was going to have a small mark in the morning.
"I'm right here, sweetheart. So good. You were so good." He praised, his fingers reluctantly slipping of her before he shifted her around in his lap, ignoring the sticky warmth in his jeans for now. Jake tilted Sansa's face up for a deep kiss, his hand rubbing her back.
Sansa gives him a lazy, soft smile and touches her fingertips to the corner
of his mouth. "Jake, darling, you're wearing my color all over your face.
It's gotten all over. I'm sorry?"
Sansa sort of likes it, though, knowing that he belongs to her.
Jake grinned at Sansa, dropping a kiss on her nose. "If I can do the same for you, Sansa."
He pulled off his glasses, setting them on the vanity. then he reached into the shower, turning on the taps, then turned back to Sansa, his hands skimming her body under the robe. "I love touching you."
His hands reluctantly moved to his belt buckle, undoing it then sliding his jeans and underwear off, then he tugged off his shirts, leaving him completely bare to Sansa's gaze. Jake's hands slipped her robe off, then her bra, hands warm against her skin.
He drew them into the water, careful to keep Sansa from getting the water in her face, hand cupped behind her neck as they kissed.
"Yeah. You were squirming on my lap. Plus when you were being bossy and telling me to touch you. I really liked that." Jake smiled against Sansa's mouth, and reached for her shampoo, his fingers rubbing her scalp as he washed her hair.
"Yeah, I do. I think it's hot. Maybe it's your accent? Dunno why exactly."
Jake's hands are gentle as he works toe shampoo through her hair, then he shifted her to rinse the suds out, then reached for the conditioner, working it through her hair, then piling it on top of her head so he could start soaping her up.
"And Sansa? I really don't care if you want to be unladylike with me. I'm not going to get mad at you or think ill of you. I mean you put up with me and my dirty mouth and awful manners so I shouldn't be a hypocrite and expect you to always be proper."
Sansa whimpers a little, enjoying the feel of his hands against her skin.
"Right now, I just wish for you to touch me the way that you are touching
me. It feels so impossibly nice. Really, truly nice."
"I want to make you happy," Sansa says, sighing heavily. She doesn't want
to feel guilty or be upset when it's something she's meant to do with him
and not do alone.
Jake turned Sansa around, tipping her chin up so he could look in her eyes.
"Hey, hey. I'm easy to please, Sansa, sweetheart. Really. I'm happy with whatever you want to do with me. If all you want to do is have me touch you or kiss you, then I'm happy with that. Because I'm here for you and you want, not what you think I want."
It was so hard not to tell her he loved her. But he had to be patient.
Sansa nods and presses up close to him, tucking her head up beneath his
chin so she can be as close to him as she possibly can. She hates that she
feels insecure in this when she's so strong in other ways but it is
difficult to open up and be vulnerable with someone else.
"Fear of what exactly?" Her explanation on Halloween hadn't been very detailed, but he had gotten the gist of how awful her life had been before she arrived here.
"Fear of pain," Sansa says, thinking back to what Ramsay and Joffrey did to her. She still has the marks of it on her pale, pale skin and she knows he can see them.
"My husband did not look to my pleasure and found his in my pain and my suffering. He sought to shatter me, to break me with his body, his hands, with everything he had. I'm afraid of the pain. I don't want to associate you with pain, Jake."
Jake's fingers traced the marks on her back, his thoughts tinged in red. Not with her, never with Sansa, but anger at what others did to her.
"But he didn't break you. Those marks means you were stronger than him, that you survived. And I know we're still learning each other, but you trust me, and I have only once given you any fright. And that was because I wanted you to feel good, but surprised you."
Jake reached for the soap, then. "We're going to run out of hot water soon, sweet. And you're going to be a prune, soon."
Jake dropped a kiss on her forehead, then began to wash himself.
"You did have my fingers inside you, but they're not the same as my dick. You were wet enough, though. And I think that's what hurt you with your husband. One, you didn't want sex, so your body wasn't ready. And two, you had no idea what exactly is supposed to go on, so you were scared of the unknown. Then of course afterwards it was just him hurting you because he liked to hurt those he thought weaker than him."
He sighed. "A lot of men think that way, even in my world."
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"I'm right here, sweetheart. So good. You were so good." He praised, his fingers reluctantly slipping of her before he shifted her around in his lap, ignoring the sticky warmth in his jeans for now. Jake tilted Sansa's face up for a deep kiss, his hand rubbing her back.
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Sansa gives him a lazy, soft smile and touches her fingertips to the corner of his mouth. "Jake, darling, you're wearing my color all over your face. It's gotten all over. I'm sorry?"
Sansa sort of likes it, though, knowing that he belongs to her.
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Jake stood up now that he knew his knees would hold and started moving to her bedroom and bathroom, Sansa in his arms.
"I came too, same time as you. So I'm really a mess."
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"I didn't know that was possible," Sansa says, giving him a warm little smile. She likes knowing she can affect him like that the way he affects her.
"You'll let me bathe you?"
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He pulled off his glasses, setting them on the vanity. then he reached into the shower, turning on the taps, then turned back to Sansa, his hands skimming her body under the robe. "I love touching you."
His hands reluctantly moved to his belt buckle, undoing it then sliding his jeans and underwear off, then he tugged off his shirts, leaving him completely bare to Sansa's gaze. Jake's hands slipped her robe off, then her bra, hands warm against her skin.
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Sansa pulls him close and kisses him, distracted by him and unable to concentrate on the shower or anything else.
"I made you find your pleasure without even touching you, Jake?"
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"Yeah. You were squirming on my lap. Plus when you were being bossy and telling me to touch you. I really liked that." Jake smiled against Sansa's mouth, and reached for her shampoo, his fingers rubbing her scalp as he washed her hair.
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Sansa colors a little and turns, letting him wash her hair while she mulls that over. He likes her telling him what to do? Truly?
"Do you really like that? Ladies aren't supposed to be like that."
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Jake's hands are gentle as he works toe shampoo through her hair, then he shifted her to rinse the suds out, then reached for the conditioner, working it through her hair, then piling it on top of her head so he could start soaping her up.
"And Sansa? I really don't care if you want to be unladylike with me. I'm not going to get mad at you or think ill of you. I mean you put up with me and my dirty mouth and awful manners so I shouldn't be a hypocrite and expect you to always be proper."
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"I haven't ever told a man what to do, not like that," Sansa admits. "I've never asked for my own pleasure."
It's something that's never come to her before Jake, either, so perhaps she should have been a bit more vocal in the past.
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He said as he started rinsing Sansa off, his hands running over her slick skin.
"Don't ever be scared to ask for what you want, okay?"
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Sansa whimpers a little, enjoying the feel of his hands against her skin. "Right now, I just wish for you to touch me the way that you are touching me. It feels so impossibly nice. Really, truly nice."
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"Yeah? I can't get enough of touching you."
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"It isn't too much for you to bear? I know men need...relief," Sansa says, sighing and leaning back against him so that he can touch her more easily.
She likes this, the easy touches and the easy way they are together.
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He sighed, a happy noise in his throat as his hands roamed over Sansa.
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"I want to make you happy," Sansa says, sighing heavily. She doesn't want to feel guilty or be upset when it's something she's meant to do with him and not do alone.
"I want to please you, Jake. It's all I want."
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"Hey, hey. I'm easy to please, Sansa, sweetheart. Really. I'm happy with whatever you want to do with me. If all you want to do is have me touch you or kiss you, then I'm happy with that. Because I'm here for you and you want, not what you think I want."
It was so hard not to tell her he loved her. But he had to be patient.
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Sansa nods and presses up close to him, tucking her head up beneath his chin so she can be as close to him as she possibly can. She hates that she feels insecure in this when she's so strong in other ways but it is difficult to open up and be vulnerable with someone else.
"I don't want to disappoint you, Jake."
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"Sansa, the only way you can disappoint me is to tell me you don't want to be with me anymore."
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"I want to be with you and no one else," Sansa assures him.
"All I want is to be with you in every way imaginable. I am only limited by my fear. That is all. It's not desire that limits me, it's fear."
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"Fear of what exactly?" Her explanation on Halloween hadn't been very detailed, but he had gotten the gist of how awful her life had been before she arrived here.
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"Fear of pain," Sansa says, thinking back to what Ramsay and Joffrey did to her. She still has the marks of it on her pale, pale skin and she knows he can see them.
"My husband did not look to my pleasure and found his in my pain and my suffering. He sought to shatter me, to break me with his body, his hands, with everything he had. I'm afraid of the pain. I don't want to associate you with pain, Jake."
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"But he didn't break you. Those marks means you were stronger than him, that you survived. And I know we're still learning each other, but you trust me, and I have only once given you any fright. And that was because I wanted you to feel good, but surprised you."
Jake reached for the soap, then. "We're going to run out of hot water soon, sweet. And you're going to be a prune, soon."
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"I just don't want you to be inside me and all I get from it is pain and fear," Sansa says, shoulders slumping a little.
"I'm afraid of it. I'm a strong woman. I shouldn't be afraid, I know that, but I am."
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"You did have my fingers inside you, but they're not the same as my dick. You were wet enough, though. And I think that's what hurt you with your husband. One, you didn't want sex, so your body wasn't ready. And two, you had no idea what exactly is supposed to go on, so you were scared of the unknown. Then of course afterwards it was just him hurting you because he liked to hurt those he thought weaker than him."
He sighed. "A lot of men think that way, even in my world."
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