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"You are my lover, not my lord husband," Sansa says. To her, there is a distinct difference.

"I do not wish to frighten you away. We are not bound by vows, you owe no fealty to me. Such things shouldn't be discussed outside of a marriage. Such things shouldn't be discussed within a marriage, really."

Step lightly, Jensen.

Jake nodded, finally drying himself, much rougher than when he dried Sansa. Picking up his glasses, he drew her into the bedroom, and paused at her dresser.

"I am your lover, yes, and that sort of information is good to share. At least that's what I always thought. But I can promise you something. As long as we're together, I'll be faithful to you." He reached into her drawers, and pulled out a silver gray silk and lace nightie, holding it for Sansa to take if she chose.

Sansa takes the nightie and drops it over her head, letting it fall down over her skin. She smooths it down and turns, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him deeply. She does appreciate him and cares for him deeply; she needs him to know that more than anything.

"I am yours, Jake. I do not need to be your wife to know that."

His hand curved behind Sansa's neck as she kissed him, and when she pulled back to speak, he rested his forehead against hers, a soft smile on his face.

"Yeah? Well, I'm yours too." Jake stepped back slowly, trying to keep the words from tumbling out of his mouth. Not time yet. Too soon.

"Go ahead and get in bed, Sansa. I gotta get my stuff from the living room." Petunia and Jonquil were already snoozing on the bed as Jake let the room, a towel slung over his hips.

Sansa watches him as he leaves, distracted by the play of the muscles in his back as he moves across the apartment. She gasps a little, ashamed that she's been staring and quickly makes her way back to the bed and turns down the blankets.

"Petunia, Jonquil, you're going to have to move," she chides, trying to get them out of a pile in the middle of the bed and somewhere more acceptable.

Don't be ashamed of ogling Jake, Sansa. He's about to climb into bed with you.

Jake reappeared, clad in boxers and a somewhat loose green t-shirt, and moved to help herd the babies out of the middle of the bed, one hand trailing over Sansa's back as he went to the other side of the bed.

"Petunia. Move. Jonquil, you too. Move." He picked up both of them and plopped them on the floor. "Wait till I call you." He pulled down the covers and slid in the bed, patting the empty side.

"They're waiting on us, Sansa."

Sansa slides into bed and curls up against Jake's chest. This is her favorite part of the day, honestly, and she's glad that this place has given her him and the relationship they have with one another.

"You've trained them quite well."

Jake arranges the blankets around them, then pats the covers.

"Petunia, Jonquil. Bedtime." He bussed Sansa's forehead with his lips and grinned.

"It's in the tone, mostly. I helped some of the K-9 teams on base with their training and picked up some things."

"So what tone do you use on me, hmm?"

Sansa is mostly teasing, considering she doesn't understand half of what he's said about K-9 teams and the base and she wants to be light and teasing with him for a moment.

"Not the same one as I use on the kids." Jake smiled as their fluffs hopped up on the bed and made nests in the covers.

"Though I might have to be firm if I think you're in danger." He shrugged, a hand rubbing circles on Sansa's silk covered hip.

"Oh? Could you be firm with me, then? Just so I know how it sounds?" Sansa is teasing and her skin flushes hot, a wash of crimson against porcelain.

"I should...I would like to know."

Her blush did things to his libido, but then again, he hadn't found anything Sansa did or said to dampen his desire for her.

Fuck, he had it bad for her, he knew, but to be undone by a blush? Jensen, you sap. But then again. Sansa was a princess, and somewhere deep inside him was the little boy who wanted to be a knight in shining armor for a princess.

And his princess want him to get bossy with her. Holy Jesus.

Jake cleared his throat, the octave dropping a little, and then the tone:

"Sansa."

Sansa shivers a little but not from fear. It's a marked change from Jake's normal tone with her and she blushes as bright as her hair.

"I will know what that means, then, if I hear it."

A corner of Jake's mouth lifted as he grinned at Sansa, the mood shifting.

"You liked it. A lot. You're blushing." He shifted to lean over her, his hand on her ass.

"I did like it," Sansa says, coloring even brighter. She isn't certain why, or anything, but she is certain that she liked it.

"Is that all right?"

"Oh, yeah, it's all right." Jake said, with a grin before he kissed her, soft and sweet.

"Does my girl need some relief?"

"Yes," Sansa says, voice soft and clear in spite of how shy she is about asking for it. She gives him a smile and tousles his hair a little.

"I need relief."

His eyes flutter shut at the feel of her hands in his hair, then open, eyes bright.

"Then I shall." Another kiss, then he pushed himself up, hovering over her.

"Sansa. I want you to keep your hands to yourself until I say otherwise." Jake said, his tone changing to that firm tone earlier. "And you're not to touch yourself either."

Sansa curls her fingers against her thighs and nods quickly, confirming her understanding of his instruction.

"Yes, my lord," she says, chancing a little smile. She never calls Jake that, ever, but this feels a little different.

Jake nodded in approval, kneeling between Sansa's thighs. His hands moved to the neckline of her nightie, rubbing the silk over her nipples as he tugged the top down, slowly revealing her breasts. He leaned down, lightly biting at her nipples, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sting.

A hand moved down, pushing the hem of her nightie up to her waist, leaving her bare to her toes.

"Spread your legs." He said, still in the tone.

Sansa spreads her legs and her eyes go wide, lip trembling a bit. She trusts him, utterly, but she wants a reassurance of that trust. He knows what she likes and dislikes, yes, and he's not going to do something she doesn't want, is he?

No, not here. Not in this city.

"Like this?"

Easy, Jensen, don't spook her.

"Good girl. You know, you're pretty down there. Pink and cream." Jake said, shifting down, to fit his shoulders under her legs, her feet resting on his back, his hands stroking her thighs.

He paused, staring at her, then leaned in to kiss her, his tongue lapping at her.

"You're soaking wet, babe." This was the usual tone he had when he was pleasuring Sansa, one of desire and joy.

Sansa relaxes then, hearing his normal voice and seeing the way he normally looks at her and she lets out a little breath she didn't know she was holding. She likes the stern tone, yes, but she loves how he's tender and sweet with her.

"Am I still to keep my hands to myself?"

"Yes, darling. No distracting me while I take care of my Sansa." He grinned at her and flicked his tongue in her folds, the tip slipping inside her.

His hands rubbed circles on her inner thighs, thumbs brushing her curls.

Sansa whimpers when his tongue touches her and she tries not to move; she digs her fingers deep into her thighs and tries to resist curling them into his hair or the muscles of his shoulders as she normally does.

"May I make noise?"

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