Elizabeth gave a low sigh of deep contentment as the hot buoyant bath water did its work. She let her eyes drift closed as the tension seeped from her body.
“Not falling asleep on me, are you?”
“Mmmm?” was her lazy response. She let her head fall back onto John’s shoulder to give him better access to her neck, and he obligingly brought his ducky loofa-sponge up to her throat and squeezed. Soapy water sluiced down Elizabeth’s neck, between her breasts, and back into the water, and John smiled appreciatively. Elizabeth sighed again.
John’s breath tickled her ear as he laughed quietly into her hair, and Elizabeth relished the feel of the sound vibrating against her back. She tried to shift even closer to him, letting her foot accidentally slide down the inside of John’s leg and her hand brush up his thigh. The motion was halted when John’s teeth bit into the side of her neck.
“That’s not the deal, Elizabeth,” he growled, kissing the mark he had made. “You’re too tired.” His hand slid down her arm, and his fingers twined themselves with hers. “You can barely move you’re so tired.” He guided her errant hand up from his thigh to set it gently behind his own neck, posing them like dancers. “All you want,” he whispered into her ear, the knuckles of his freed hand tracing down her neck, “is a nice long bath,” the fingers moved to trail lightly down the inside of her arm and along the side of her breast sending shivers through her body, “and a good night’s sleep.” The ducky sponge was at her elbow, and John sent warm bath water coursing along the path his fingers had just discovered.
“Mmmmm hmmm,” she hummed, too tired to say more. This was not fair. He was intent on torturing her. She should really retaliate.
John’s mouth had found her neck again, and he was kissing and nibbling his way to her right, probably to give it the same treatment the left had just received. Elizabeth saw no reason to deny herself of the sensations, and she let her head roll over to his other shoulder. She tried not to purr as her left arm slid back into the water and John’s hand was dancing up the right. No sense letting him be too pleased with himself. She smiled as each finger was kissed before he placed the hand at his neck and bent to nuzzle her shoulder.
“Still with me?” he asked with a smile she could feel on her skin. She didn’t answer. John bit hard into her shoulder blade, making her jump. “Not done yet.” Water and sponge came slowly down her arm and body as the shoulder mark was soothed with kisses. Elizabeth sighed into the sensations of relaxed sensuous worship of skin and body that John’s attentions strove to create. She was too tired to let it annoy her that he was right. Her eyelids refused to remain open, and her muscles were too heavy to move. This was wonderful.
“Okay,” John said with a grin, “looks like we really are done.”
Elizabeth wasn’t sure she liked that, but he was moving now, and she couldn’t convince her voice to protest. “This won’t be pretty or graceful, Elizabeth, but I’ll try not to drop you.” She thought that should worry her a little, but when she searched herself for the emotion, there was only trust. He would never drop her. Good to know. There was an arm behind her shoulders, and its twin underneath her legs, and she was being lifted from the bath water. Later she would probably try to figure out how John had managed that without falling on his ass, but right now, she was too busy enjoying the feel of John’s arms around her as he carried her towards the bed.
“It’s a good thing I put towels out here before running your bath,” John whispered as he laid her unresisting form on a large terrycloth sheet and wrapped her up in it. Then he disappeared. He came back into view a moment later looking much less wet, and she was being patted dry. It felt so nice. “You really are going to have to work on the whole moderation thing, Elizabeth. Atlantis is not going to self destruct if you sleep for eight hours every night.”
It might. It could. She should tell him that. “Mbbfflms.” Dammit.
“I’m sure,” John said with a raise of his eyebrows and a cockeyed smile. Then the towel was discarded and the sheets were being pulled up over her legs. The lights dimmed to almost dark as John settled into the bed behind her and folded her into his arms. “Goodnight Elizabeth,” he murmured into her hair as she snuggled deeper against him. He could pay for the torture in the morning.
“Not falling asleep on me, are you?”
“Mmmm?” was her lazy response. She let her head fall back onto John’s shoulder to give him better access to her neck, and he obligingly brought his ducky loofa-sponge up to her throat and squeezed. Soapy water sluiced down Elizabeth’s neck, between her breasts, and back into the water, and John smiled appreciatively. Elizabeth sighed again.
John’s breath tickled her ear as he laughed quietly into her hair, and Elizabeth relished the feel of the sound vibrating against her back. She tried to shift even closer to him, letting her foot accidentally slide down the inside of John’s leg and her hand brush up his thigh. The motion was halted when John’s teeth bit into the side of her neck.
“That’s not the deal, Elizabeth,” he growled, kissing the mark he had made. “You’re too tired.” His hand slid down her arm, and his fingers twined themselves with hers. “You can barely move you’re so tired.” He guided her errant hand up from his thigh to set it gently behind his own neck, posing them like dancers. “All you want,” he whispered into her ear, the knuckles of his freed hand tracing down her neck, “is a nice long bath,” the fingers moved to trail lightly down the inside of her arm and along the side of her breast sending shivers through her body, “and a good night’s sleep.” The ducky sponge was at her elbow, and John sent warm bath water coursing along the path his fingers had just discovered.
“Mmmmm hmmm,” she hummed, too tired to say more. This was not fair. He was intent on torturing her. She should really retaliate.
John’s mouth had found her neck again, and he was kissing and nibbling his way to her right, probably to give it the same treatment the left had just received. Elizabeth saw no reason to deny herself of the sensations, and she let her head roll over to his other shoulder. She tried not to purr as her left arm slid back into the water and John’s hand was dancing up the right. No sense letting him be too pleased with himself. She smiled as each finger was kissed before he placed the hand at his neck and bent to nuzzle her shoulder.
“Still with me?” he asked with a smile she could feel on her skin. She didn’t answer. John bit hard into her shoulder blade, making her jump. “Not done yet.” Water and sponge came slowly down her arm and body as the shoulder mark was soothed with kisses. Elizabeth sighed into the sensations of relaxed sensuous worship of skin and body that John’s attentions strove to create. She was too tired to let it annoy her that he was right. Her eyelids refused to remain open, and her muscles were too heavy to move. This was wonderful.
“Okay,” John said with a grin, “looks like we really are done.”
Elizabeth wasn’t sure she liked that, but he was moving now, and she couldn’t convince her voice to protest. “This won’t be pretty or graceful, Elizabeth, but I’ll try not to drop you.” She thought that should worry her a little, but when she searched herself for the emotion, there was only trust. He would never drop her. Good to know. There was an arm behind her shoulders, and its twin underneath her legs, and she was being lifted from the bath water. Later she would probably try to figure out how John had managed that without falling on his ass, but right now, she was too busy enjoying the feel of John’s arms around her as he carried her towards the bed.
“It’s a good thing I put towels out here before running your bath,” John whispered as he laid her unresisting form on a large terrycloth sheet and wrapped her up in it. Then he disappeared. He came back into view a moment later looking much less wet, and she was being patted dry. It felt so nice. “You really are going to have to work on the whole moderation thing, Elizabeth. Atlantis is not going to self destruct if you sleep for eight hours every night.”
It might. It could. She should tell him that. “Mbbfflms.” Dammit.
“I’m sure,” John said with a raise of his eyebrows and a cockeyed smile. Then the towel was discarded and the sheets were being pulled up over her legs. The lights dimmed to almost dark as John settled into the bed behind her and folded her into his arms. “Goodnight Elizabeth,” he murmured into her hair as she snuggled deeper against him. He could pay for the torture in the morning.