"Holy mother of Jesus bear."
Bella slumps down onto the couch next to her husband and rests her head on his huge shoulder. Jacob, who has been dozing after a long day at the garage, wakes groggily and turns his face into Bella's soft hair.
"I need to take a shower," she mumbles, untying the double knotted apron strings at her hips with clumsy fingers.
"No, no, no..." Jake reaches around her waist and pulls her slight body into his lap. Bella feels weightless; the inherent strength in his arms buoying her tired frame so easily it's deceptive. She snuggles further into him, pressing her face into his neck and relishing his radiating warmth. Drips of water slide down his ears and soak into the collar of her blouse, and it's then that she notices he's wearing a towel instead of pants. She tugs at it and he mumbles, "had shower already." She grins, breathing in his clean scent. He pulls her closer. "Anyway, pants are for losers."
She's almost passed out when she turns her head slightly, catches a whiff of tuna, and remembers the incident with the exploding brine can earlier. She'd sworn at the time that she would wash the very moment she walked through the door, but Jake always seems to make her so damned forgetful.
She grabs Jake's big, callused hands in her own and reluctantly slides off his lap, coaxing him to follow her.
"Come on, greasypants," she croons. "You missed some T-cut in your hair."
Jacob suddenly brightens. "More shower time?" She grins and nods and pulls him down the hall to the bathroom.
She shuts the door behind them both, reaching into the shower to switch it on and warm up, before turning to Jake. He stands, one eyebrow raised, his arms crossed (which makes his muscles clench and holy fuck), as he waits for instructions.
She tugs on the hem of his t-shirt. "Off."
Bella absentmindedly bites her lip as her husband pulls his shirt up in an entirely unselfconscious way, his stomach flexing deliciously as he drops the fabric to the floor. He runs a few fingers through his hair, straightening it out, and Bella has to press her aching feet into the ground and repeat "I smell like tuna" in her head to stop herself from jumping him.
Instead, at Jake's open handed gesture, she pulls off her blouse, and reaches between her breasts to undo her bra. Jake's fingers push hers away gently, as he takes the clasp and twists it undone. He licks his lips as her breasts fall free.
They move towards each other, each moaning softly as her nipples brush his chest. Jake bends his neck to nuzzle Bella's collarbone, sliding his nose along the curve and breathing deeply until he straightens up in a quick move and looks his wife in the eyes.
"Bells, you know you smell of fish, right?"
"Fucking shitty can opener." Bella mutters, rolling her eyes as Jacob, chuckling shamelessly, grabs her around the waist.
"Not that I'm saying it's a bad thing," he inhales deeply, "but maybe you could rub a little fresh bread, and some cheese around too?"
She begins pulling on his towel in an attempt to distract him.
"Mister, I am not going to turn myself into a tuna melt sandwich for you. Now get this off."
He pouts. "What about a niçoise salad?"
"How do you even know what that is?" she giggles, the smile evaporating from her lips as he casually drops the towel, revealing his beautiful, thick, half-hard cock. Apparently seafood works for him. He catches her staring and dives for the button on her jeans, wanting more than anything to be naked with her. Her breasts bounce lightly as they both struggle to rid her of her clothes, and he bites back a groan at the sight of her naked, feeling himself harden.
They step into the shower and both sigh at once as the hot spray pounds their muscles. Jake takes the showerhead in hand and gently soaks Bella's body with the warm water to make sure she doesn't get cold. She stands, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. He loves how free she is with her body with him now they've been married five years; at one time she'd been shy, but now he's truly free to indulge her, and it's ridiculously sexy.
He replaces the showerhead and pours some of her favourite body wash into his hands before beginning to lather up her skin. She moans as his knuckles knead the muscles in her shoulders, and twitches with pleasure when his rough fingers pass over her nipples, pulling on them just enough to ache. A few translucent stretch marks ghost the skin of her breasts, and Jake traces the lines, revelling in the whimpers he evokes, then smiling as he slides his lathered fingers up under her arms and feels the little prickles of stubble she's missed when shaving.
Next, he washes her hair, rubbing his fingertips in circles around her scalp, before smoothing through conditioner and gently combing the long, silky strands with his fingers. He rinses her off, painfully erect now at the sight of the water flow contouring to her curves, then takes a gentler wash and slides his soaped hand between her legs. He's leaning in close, sucking her earlobe between his teeth, brushing his lips against her jaw as he murmurs "open."
She complies without thinking, sliding her feet apart at once and taking in a quick breath as his slick fingers coat her coarse hair with bubbles. He is careful not to start too quickly, exploring her with his fingertips in the most delicious way, before massaging her clitoris gently, and slipping his hand around her hip and back to where she's craving his touch. She feels utterly exposed like this; every movement of his hands a testament to their absolute trust. It's different from sex, somehow, as he cleans her... more intimate and her chest swells.
She wraps her arms around his neck, and he feels her huffs of breath as he teases her sensitive skin carefully, before rinsing her. Even as the soap runs down her legs, he can feel her own wetness on his hands, it's silky, and he licks his lips at the taste he knows will be on his tongue, coating his mouth and swallowed down his throat soon.
Finally, he crouches down and lathers up her legs and feet. As his fingertips press into the sole of her left foot, she grips his shoulder and mutters "Fuck...", and right away he knows where he's going to begin.
When they exit the shower, she leads him quickly to their bedroom.
Her damp body looks practically edible, with her scrubbed-pink skin and her dark hair hanging in strings, dripping water onto her swaying ass. He wonders if anything or anyone could ever look as inviting, and bites his lip.
She tugs him onto the bed on top of her and their mouths meet first, bodies slipping against each other. For a brief moment the head of Jacob's cock - now pearled with precum and pulsing stiffly - slides against the hot, slick lips between her legs, the tip just pushing through.
They both tense as Bella's urge to open and Jacob's to thrust war with wanting to draw out their lovemaking.
Finally with a shuddered-out breath Jake pulls away, and shifts down their bed, grabbing a bottle of moisturiser from the chest of drawers against the wall. Bella opens her mouth, then shuts it again quickly as she sees where he's headed, muttering, "I love you, I love you..." as Jacob, grinning, squeezes some of the cream into his palms.
He takes Bella's left foot in his huge hands, which practically dwarf it despite her really being an average size. He smiles at the chipped purple polish on her short toenails, then frowns at the callous on the side of her little toe and the way her Achilles tendon feels swollen in his palm.
He leans down and kisses her instep, before his fingers spread the cream and begin to work. He pushes his thumbs into her heel, then works his way to the ball of her foot, inching forward until he's rubbed a line along the centre of her sole. She collapses back onto the pillows, mumbling incoherently about prizes for achievements in husbanding, future blow jobs and homemade lasagna.
He increases the pressure a little, working the tired sinew around her big toe, and gently pulling the little toes next to it back and forward, stretching them, then carefully rubbing each of their joints. Bella cracks one eye open, watching him as he works, and smiles at the little frown of concentration on his brow.
He's using his whole hands now, not just his fingertips, moving back to smooth up and down the arch and around and around the poor, abused ball of her foot. The feeling is blissful; utterly blissful, and the tension begins to melt from Bella's spine even as he rubs circles into her heels.
Finally, he points her toes down and flexes her ankle, massaging her tendons, the small, delicate bones of her instep and up to her calf until he feels her foot go floppy. He grabs more cream and moves on to the other, internally adoring how he's reduced his wife to a hot, quivering, mumbling mess.
Bella's moans are largely incoherent by this point. Jacob seems to have this way, sometimes, of tempting her body away from her. It acts like a cat going to a stranger who pets it, rather than its somewhat confused owner, who must watch the transaction from a bedroom window. His hands, his mouth; they produce responses she didn't know were inside her, feelings that only he can coax from her nerves. It's not like they haven't spent a long time learning each other's bodies, but he was always a quick study, catching every gasp and shift until their lovemaking becomes like this: as easy as breathing, and as necessary as air.
When both of her feet feel thoroughly boneless, he places his lips on her ankles, then knees, and then begins to move higher. She holds her breath, until it all comes rushing out in a thick gush when he commands her to open her legs for the second time.
His fingers part her lips and he buries his face between her legs, lapping, exploring, his stubble brushing her inner thighs so deliciously, forcing them to open wider to avoid the scratch.
"Jesus... Jacob..." she murmurs as his tongue finds her clit, her stretched toes aching deliciously as they curl.
Her hands hover above the bed sheet before they slide up his massive shoulders and into his short, thick hair. The orgasm builds so fast Bella is only half prepared, but just before pushing her over the edge, he lifts his mouth and comes to lie beside her, his head propped up on an elbow.
Her hands fly to push between her legs, desperate to give herself relief, but he is faster. He leans in to kiss her, growling when she licks her own wetness from his chin, as he circles her clit again and again with two long fingers.
She knows what he wants; to watch her come. She knows how it's his favourite thing to do, and has long since gotten over her embarrassment.
With her left hand she grips his cock, while with her right she grabs at her breast, pulling hard on her nipple.
"Yes..." Jacob moans as her hand rubs his hard flesh, "You feel that? Fuck, you make me so hard, Bella. You need to come, and then you can feel how hard I am in that delicious pussy of yours."
His dirty mouth has always been the death of her.
As her orgasm builds, she can hear herself making noises over which she has no control - breathy whines as she rocks her hips against his relentless fingers, her poor, empty pussy desperately clenching. She grips him tighter and tighter through the most powerful waves of pleasure, as her shouts begin to mingle with his own.
As her body gasps and writhes, Jacob mounts her with a growl, shoving her thighs open roughly and plunging his cock deep inside her. Her twitching, pulsating walls grab at him, finally satisfied and filled, and she arches her back, crying out in absolute pleasure.
He thrusts fast and deep, stretching her with his thickness, his hands braced on either side of her, muscles tight. As his own orgasm approaches their glazed gazes meet for a brief moment, both heavy-lidded and dark with pleasure.
Bella tilts her chin up and licks his open lips before whispering, "Come."
His growl is muffled by her neck as he buries his face there and rides out his climax, shifting her body up the bed with the strength of his final thrusts as he spills himself inside her.
They lie unmoving afterwards, letting their panting return to a gentle flow, their aching thighs and sweat-soaked brows cooling as they grin at one another. Jacob moves up and off Bella despite her protests, and that empty feeling that accompanies every time they part. He knows her breathing is always a little shallow with his weight on her, despite the cold displeasure that he experiences on parting.
She rolls to face him, and their bodies close the distance instinctively, connecting at their hips, knees, stomachs, chests, lips, feet. They kiss softly, sweetly, sweat and water mingling with come and wetness as they move languidly together, finding their compromise between comfort and closeness for the night.
Bella falls asleep first, her head on Jacob's chest, wet hair on his shoulder. He covers her gently with their sheets, tucking them around her shoulders and over her feet, before following her into unconsciousness.
A/N: Huge thanks to MeraNaamJoker and wordslinger for their help pre-reading and beta-ing this. They are awsum. This one-shot is dedicated to bellaBBblack who inspired it.
Comments are like Jacob's hands on your toes... ;)