april
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2006
- Messages
- 1,201
- Points
- 63
The sun that day was merciless, an unrelenting blaze above the glen, making the air shimmer like a dream. Even the tall grass seems to wilt under its weight, curling in on itself, trying to hide. You wipe the sweat from your brow, but its no use. Your skin is flushed, your limbs heavy.
Jacob notices immediately.
"You look like a melting popsicle, April," he says, his eyes narrowing in mock concern. "I give you five minutes before you fully puddle."
You swat at him lazily, but hes already moving toward you with a crooked grin.
"Nope. Not taking any chances."
He scoops your tiny form up into his strong arms with an exaggerated grunt.
"Wow. So heavy. Might not make it. If I collapse, just roll us both down the hill till we find water."
The stream hums quietly nearby, water glistening over smooth stones like liquid crystal.
Jacob kneels with you in his arms, placing you delicately on a mossy rock at the edge. The cool shade dapples your skin as he stands before you, knee deep in the water.
His gaze drops to your bare feet, and something in him shifts, his breath catches ever so slightly. He reaches for them slowly, like hes unwrapping a treasure, cradling one foot in his large hand. His thumb brushes against your sole, he let's out a chuckle, not teasing, just stunned.
"Is everything about you so beautiful?" He murmurs almost to himself.
He lowers your foot into the water, the contrast of the cool stream and that of his warm hands make you shiver. But his touch is careful, devoted. He lifts water into his palm and drizzles it across the top of your foot, watching the droplets trace down your ankle, across the curve of your arch, between your toes.
Your feet are small in his hands, soft and delicate, every little twitch and flex visible as he holds you still. His fingertips stroke gently along the tops, thumbs gliding beneath to massage your sole in small circles.
Then he glances up at you, a heat in his eyes that's tender and hungry all at once.
"May I?" His question was barely a whisper. You're eyes bespoke permission.
He lowers his lips to your foot. His mouth is warm, and when he kisses the arch, it sends ripples straight through you. He kisses your toes, soft slow, each one like a vow. Then he parts his lips and takes one into his mouth, drawing it in with a gentle suck, eyes fluttering closed like hes savoring something sacred.
He hums softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and when he opens his eyes again, they're darker, softer, worshipful.
"You're driving me mad, you know that?" He whispers, lips brushing your wet skin. "I've never wanted anything so much."
He continues, taking your toes one by one, warm tongue gliding over each delicate pad, mouth closing around them gently. His hand strokes your ankle, your calve, grounding you while his mouth leaves you breathless.
And through it all, he never looks away from you for too long. His gaze keeps finding yours, over and over as if to say: Is this okay? Do you feel what I feel? Is this real?
And the answer in your eyes is yes. Yes to all of it.
The air is cooler now, the light mellowing into evening gold. Jacob sits back on his heels on the bank, his thumbs brushing tenderly over your ankles. Then he speaks quietly, earnestly.
"Stay with me tonight?"
His voice is softer than you've ever heard it. There's no teasing in it, no flirtatious edge. Just open vulnerability. Hope.
You blink, surprised. You've never stayed the night with Jacob. You've never even seen where he sleeps. Hes always met you in shared spaces; glens, gardens, doorways, but never brought you into his.
Still, the answer is easy. Your lips curve into a smile and you nod.
"Yes."
Jacob beams, he actually beams. And in his rush of happiness, he tries to stand too fast and slips; his heel catching the mossy edge of the bank. With a comical yelp, he crashes backwards into the water with a splash. You gasp, then burst into giggles as he sits up, soaked and sputtering, blinking up at you in disbelief.
"Worth it," he mutters, grinning as the water drips from his curls.
Then he's back on his feet, wet shirt clinging to his chest, his hair plastered to his forehead as he scoops you up in his arms.
"Jacob! You're getting me all wet," you giggle as you squirm in his arms.
Jacob's face freezes for a moment, thinking about cracking a joke but shakes his head.
"Nope. Im not going there."
You saw it through the trees, a cottage small and beautiful, half covered in ivy and moonflowers. Its not grand. Its not guarded. Its just his.
"This is it," he says. "Its not much, just a cozy little cave guarded by an army of squirrels and regret. Bathrooms out back. Its called the woods. Very exclusive. Leaves included.'
You both enter the small, humble dwelling, as he watches you with his heart on his sleeve.
"You can take the bed," He offers gently. "Or...stay with me in it."
Your smile answers before your words do.
Jacob stands near his bed, his wet shirt clinging to him uncomfortably. Without a second thought, without hesitation or modesty, he pulls it over his head and tosses it to the floor. Then with the same casual ease, he peels off his trousers, leaving only a pair of low black boxer briefs clinging to his hips.
You're already wearing one of his white t-shirts. Its soft, worn in, and oversized. The thin cotton clings where it falls against you, subtly outlining the curve of your breasts, the bare slope of your legs tucked beneath. Jacob's eyes flicks to you...and then lingers.
But then, inevitably, his eyes drift downwards.
To your feet.
He stares again.
You can see the way his breath hitches, his lips parting just slightly, the softest flush rising to his face. There's something about them that draws him in, that undoes him. Maybe its their softness, their size compared to his large hands, how adorably ticklish they are. Maybe its how tenderly you move, how your toes curl slightly when you're nervous. Hes mesmerized.
You dont speak. Instead you sit beside him on the edge of the bed, facing him, your knees nearly brushing.
Then slowly, deliberately, you lift one foot and place it on his lap.
Jacob tenses, just slightly, as though youd given him something sacred.
His hands raised instinctively to cradle your foot, thumbs brushing across the top, down the arch, then curling around your heel. He doesnt tease, doesnt tickle. He worships.
His eyes flick up to meet yours, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You're going to undo me."
Your other foot follows without a word, both now resting in his lap, delicate against the the warmth of his bare thighs. His large hands settle around them, gentle, trembling slightly. He lifts one gently to his mouth.
His lips are warm and slightly wet as he places the first kiss, just a whisper, on the top of your foot. Then another and another, each more lingering than the last. His mouth moves slowly, covering every inch, as though he wants to learn them through touch alone. The bridge of your foot. The base of your toes. The sensitive skin of your arch. His breath is warm, lips tender and there's nothing playful about him now. Hes lost in you.
You watch him, your pulse quickening at the sheer devotion of his expression.
"I think you like my feet, Jacob," your voice lower, breathy, yet laced with a gentle dare.
His eyes flick back up to yours, and instantly that rosey blush blooms across his cheeks and up to the tops of his ears. But he doesnt stop. He presses another kiss to the ball of your foot, his own voice a little shaken now.
"I do," he admits the words like a confession. "A little too much."
Then your other foot moves. You trail it slowly up his thigh, feeling the tension coil beneath his skin as your toes graze higher. His breath catches in his throat, his lips still against your foot. His hands grip your ankle more tightly, instinctively grounding himself.
"Do you like it when I do this?" You ask sweetly, your voice laced with innocence, but the intent unmistakable.
He nods once, his throat working as he swallows, his eyes burning and he watches your small foot traverse his body.
You keep going, sliding higher. Your foot catches just the outside of his shaft, now unmistakably hard and his whole body exhales, his jaw dropping. He almost drops your foot but recovers.
Up and up that mischievous foot travels, sliding over the ridges of his stomach, across his chest, leaving every muscle under your touch trembling...until your toes reach his mouth.
You pause there, your big toe grazing his lower lip. And then slowly, you press it against his mouth, offering it to him, compelling him. He let's out a low, involuntary groan. His bottom lip is trembling now and so are his hands. Eyes closing, mouth parting, tongue hot and wet, he accepts and allows you to slide it between his teeth.
His tongue makes contact first, tentatively and then more brash. He slides it over your toe greedily, tasting like he was starving for it.
"God's..." he moans against your wet flesh. "You're going to ruin me."
And he means it. Every inch of him is now trembling with restraint. Your eyes drops for barely a second, but its enough. Beneath his boxers, Jacob's body is betraying him in the most cruel way. Hes grown hard, thick, and its straining against the thin fabric. He shifts, so sensitive now that when the fabric slides against him, he groans again.
And he notices that you notice. Its the kind of reaction that no amount of blushing or shyness can hide.
And yet, a blush blooms across his cheeks again. He smiles, suddenly aware of his loss of control over himself. He chuckles to cover his embarrassment, his innocence betraying him once more. The deeply sensual haze lifts just slightly as his boyish grin returns. Mischief lurks behind it like a cat ready to pounce.
He takes your foot that you so deliciously offered into his lap. His fingers slide down your arch, over your heel and curl around your ankle.
His voice is almost musical now, touched with that familiar teasing and warmth, but slower...huskier.
"If I recall correctly..." he murmurs, thumb grazing a spot just beneath your toes, "...these cute things are pretty ticklish."
Your breath catches. Eyes widen. You try and tug your foot away, but its too late.
His grip tightens, and he smirks, dimples flashing in full mischief-mode, now cradling it like prey.
"Uh-uh, no running now little one."
Fingers begin their assault with light strokes along your arch, his thumb still teasing beneath your toes, circling slowly against your most sensitive spot.
You squeal, twisting, giggles already bubbling out of you in helpless bursts.
"Jacob! Jacob no...please...no...!"
"Oh now you want to play innocent?" He laughs with you breathlessly, clearly loving every second of your struggle. "Is the little seductress having regrets? All of that teasing with your perfect tootsies and edible tosies and you're surprised when there are consequences?"
His touch was wickedly gentle, daring. Flicking, scribbling, exploring unabashedly. Jacob's tickled your feet many times before but now theres an added touch of sensuality. It aroused your senses in more than one way. The sweet torment was driving you crazy. Didn't want it stop. Desperately wanted more. More of his hands, his touch and those wicked fingers. Your toes curl against his fingertips and now there's more than just a boyish grin on his face; desire.
He scribbles his nails against your soles and you lose it, giggling, accidentally kicking him in the process.
He looks at you in mock horror.
You snort through a giggle. "That was self defense!"
Jacob shakes his head dramatically. "No no. That was an act of war, and I, ma'am, am a patient man. But also...a vengeful one."
Your eyes widen. "But...I...dont even!"
"Oh its too late now," he grins devilishly, wiggling his fingers. "The council of Sole Retribution has spoken."
Jacob notices immediately.
"You look like a melting popsicle, April," he says, his eyes narrowing in mock concern. "I give you five minutes before you fully puddle."
You swat at him lazily, but hes already moving toward you with a crooked grin.
"Nope. Not taking any chances."
He scoops your tiny form up into his strong arms with an exaggerated grunt.
"Wow. So heavy. Might not make it. If I collapse, just roll us both down the hill till we find water."
The stream hums quietly nearby, water glistening over smooth stones like liquid crystal.
Jacob kneels with you in his arms, placing you delicately on a mossy rock at the edge. The cool shade dapples your skin as he stands before you, knee deep in the water.
His gaze drops to your bare feet, and something in him shifts, his breath catches ever so slightly. He reaches for them slowly, like hes unwrapping a treasure, cradling one foot in his large hand. His thumb brushes against your sole, he let's out a chuckle, not teasing, just stunned.
"Is everything about you so beautiful?" He murmurs almost to himself.
He lowers your foot into the water, the contrast of the cool stream and that of his warm hands make you shiver. But his touch is careful, devoted. He lifts water into his palm and drizzles it across the top of your foot, watching the droplets trace down your ankle, across the curve of your arch, between your toes.
Your feet are small in his hands, soft and delicate, every little twitch and flex visible as he holds you still. His fingertips stroke gently along the tops, thumbs gliding beneath to massage your sole in small circles.
Then he glances up at you, a heat in his eyes that's tender and hungry all at once.
"May I?" His question was barely a whisper. You're eyes bespoke permission.
He lowers his lips to your foot. His mouth is warm, and when he kisses the arch, it sends ripples straight through you. He kisses your toes, soft slow, each one like a vow. Then he parts his lips and takes one into his mouth, drawing it in with a gentle suck, eyes fluttering closed like hes savoring something sacred.
He hums softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and when he opens his eyes again, they're darker, softer, worshipful.
"You're driving me mad, you know that?" He whispers, lips brushing your wet skin. "I've never wanted anything so much."
He continues, taking your toes one by one, warm tongue gliding over each delicate pad, mouth closing around them gently. His hand strokes your ankle, your calve, grounding you while his mouth leaves you breathless.
And through it all, he never looks away from you for too long. His gaze keeps finding yours, over and over as if to say: Is this okay? Do you feel what I feel? Is this real?
And the answer in your eyes is yes. Yes to all of it.
The air is cooler now, the light mellowing into evening gold. Jacob sits back on his heels on the bank, his thumbs brushing tenderly over your ankles. Then he speaks quietly, earnestly.
"Stay with me tonight?"
His voice is softer than you've ever heard it. There's no teasing in it, no flirtatious edge. Just open vulnerability. Hope.
You blink, surprised. You've never stayed the night with Jacob. You've never even seen where he sleeps. Hes always met you in shared spaces; glens, gardens, doorways, but never brought you into his.
Still, the answer is easy. Your lips curve into a smile and you nod.
"Yes."
Jacob beams, he actually beams. And in his rush of happiness, he tries to stand too fast and slips; his heel catching the mossy edge of the bank. With a comical yelp, he crashes backwards into the water with a splash. You gasp, then burst into giggles as he sits up, soaked and sputtering, blinking up at you in disbelief.
"Worth it," he mutters, grinning as the water drips from his curls.
Then he's back on his feet, wet shirt clinging to his chest, his hair plastered to his forehead as he scoops you up in his arms.
"Jacob! You're getting me all wet," you giggle as you squirm in his arms.
Jacob's face freezes for a moment, thinking about cracking a joke but shakes his head.
"Nope. Im not going there."
You saw it through the trees, a cottage small and beautiful, half covered in ivy and moonflowers. Its not grand. Its not guarded. Its just his.
"This is it," he says. "Its not much, just a cozy little cave guarded by an army of squirrels and regret. Bathrooms out back. Its called the woods. Very exclusive. Leaves included.'
You both enter the small, humble dwelling, as he watches you with his heart on his sleeve.
"You can take the bed," He offers gently. "Or...stay with me in it."
Your smile answers before your words do.
Jacob stands near his bed, his wet shirt clinging to him uncomfortably. Without a second thought, without hesitation or modesty, he pulls it over his head and tosses it to the floor. Then with the same casual ease, he peels off his trousers, leaving only a pair of low black boxer briefs clinging to his hips.
You're already wearing one of his white t-shirts. Its soft, worn in, and oversized. The thin cotton clings where it falls against you, subtly outlining the curve of your breasts, the bare slope of your legs tucked beneath. Jacob's eyes flicks to you...and then lingers.
But then, inevitably, his eyes drift downwards.
To your feet.
He stares again.
You can see the way his breath hitches, his lips parting just slightly, the softest flush rising to his face. There's something about them that draws him in, that undoes him. Maybe its their softness, their size compared to his large hands, how adorably ticklish they are. Maybe its how tenderly you move, how your toes curl slightly when you're nervous. Hes mesmerized.
You dont speak. Instead you sit beside him on the edge of the bed, facing him, your knees nearly brushing.
Then slowly, deliberately, you lift one foot and place it on his lap.
Jacob tenses, just slightly, as though youd given him something sacred.
His hands raised instinctively to cradle your foot, thumbs brushing across the top, down the arch, then curling around your heel. He doesnt tease, doesnt tickle. He worships.
His eyes flick up to meet yours, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You're going to undo me."
Your other foot follows without a word, both now resting in his lap, delicate against the the warmth of his bare thighs. His large hands settle around them, gentle, trembling slightly. He lifts one gently to his mouth.
His lips are warm and slightly wet as he places the first kiss, just a whisper, on the top of your foot. Then another and another, each more lingering than the last. His mouth moves slowly, covering every inch, as though he wants to learn them through touch alone. The bridge of your foot. The base of your toes. The sensitive skin of your arch. His breath is warm, lips tender and there's nothing playful about him now. Hes lost in you.
You watch him, your pulse quickening at the sheer devotion of his expression.
"I think you like my feet, Jacob," your voice lower, breathy, yet laced with a gentle dare.
His eyes flick back up to yours, and instantly that rosey blush blooms across his cheeks and up to the tops of his ears. But he doesnt stop. He presses another kiss to the ball of your foot, his own voice a little shaken now.
"I do," he admits the words like a confession. "A little too much."
Then your other foot moves. You trail it slowly up his thigh, feeling the tension coil beneath his skin as your toes graze higher. His breath catches in his throat, his lips still against your foot. His hands grip your ankle more tightly, instinctively grounding himself.
"Do you like it when I do this?" You ask sweetly, your voice laced with innocence, but the intent unmistakable.
He nods once, his throat working as he swallows, his eyes burning and he watches your small foot traverse his body.
You keep going, sliding higher. Your foot catches just the outside of his shaft, now unmistakably hard and his whole body exhales, his jaw dropping. He almost drops your foot but recovers.
Up and up that mischievous foot travels, sliding over the ridges of his stomach, across his chest, leaving every muscle under your touch trembling...until your toes reach his mouth.
You pause there, your big toe grazing his lower lip. And then slowly, you press it against his mouth, offering it to him, compelling him. He let's out a low, involuntary groan. His bottom lip is trembling now and so are his hands. Eyes closing, mouth parting, tongue hot and wet, he accepts and allows you to slide it between his teeth.
His tongue makes contact first, tentatively and then more brash. He slides it over your toe greedily, tasting like he was starving for it.
"God's..." he moans against your wet flesh. "You're going to ruin me."
And he means it. Every inch of him is now trembling with restraint. Your eyes drops for barely a second, but its enough. Beneath his boxers, Jacob's body is betraying him in the most cruel way. Hes grown hard, thick, and its straining against the thin fabric. He shifts, so sensitive now that when the fabric slides against him, he groans again.
And he notices that you notice. Its the kind of reaction that no amount of blushing or shyness can hide.
And yet, a blush blooms across his cheeks again. He smiles, suddenly aware of his loss of control over himself. He chuckles to cover his embarrassment, his innocence betraying him once more. The deeply sensual haze lifts just slightly as his boyish grin returns. Mischief lurks behind it like a cat ready to pounce.
He takes your foot that you so deliciously offered into his lap. His fingers slide down your arch, over your heel and curl around your ankle.
His voice is almost musical now, touched with that familiar teasing and warmth, but slower...huskier.
"If I recall correctly..." he murmurs, thumb grazing a spot just beneath your toes, "...these cute things are pretty ticklish."
Your breath catches. Eyes widen. You try and tug your foot away, but its too late.
His grip tightens, and he smirks, dimples flashing in full mischief-mode, now cradling it like prey.
"Uh-uh, no running now little one."
Fingers begin their assault with light strokes along your arch, his thumb still teasing beneath your toes, circling slowly against your most sensitive spot.
You squeal, twisting, giggles already bubbling out of you in helpless bursts.
"Jacob! Jacob no...please...no...!"
"Oh now you want to play innocent?" He laughs with you breathlessly, clearly loving every second of your struggle. "Is the little seductress having regrets? All of that teasing with your perfect tootsies and edible tosies and you're surprised when there are consequences?"
His touch was wickedly gentle, daring. Flicking, scribbling, exploring unabashedly. Jacob's tickled your feet many times before but now theres an added touch of sensuality. It aroused your senses in more than one way. The sweet torment was driving you crazy. Didn't want it stop. Desperately wanted more. More of his hands, his touch and those wicked fingers. Your toes curl against his fingertips and now there's more than just a boyish grin on his face; desire.
He scribbles his nails against your soles and you lose it, giggling, accidentally kicking him in the process.
He looks at you in mock horror.
You snort through a giggle. "That was self defense!"
Jacob shakes his head dramatically. "No no. That was an act of war, and I, ma'am, am a patient man. But also...a vengeful one."
Your eyes widen. "But...I...dont even!"
"Oh its too late now," he grins devilishly, wiggling his fingers. "The council of Sole Retribution has spoken."
