Jane Eyre FanFiction DIsclaimer: I did not write Jane Eyre and do not own these characters. The characters, through time and through the savage beauty of Jane Eyre, have earned them independence in their own right and have earned Charlotte Bronte a world of deserved praise and admiration.
The magnolia soap had billowed into the water, invading its perfect clarity with creamy puffs of whiteness. With almost the same swiftness, steam licked from the bathwater, rising and dissipating into nothing.
Such a soft scene was rounded perfectly by Edward, nestled with her in the narrow, rather scratched bathtub, his back against her chest and their hands tangled in each other.
'The water's going cold' she said
'Hmm?' he replied
She shifted beneath him as she sighed 'come At this his head swivelled abruptly as he moaned "oh no, my love, not yet", creeping his remaining hand out of the grasp of her own fingers and creeping it up to her neck in an attempt to urge her back into the water. "We can keep each other warm" he smiled
, we should get out'
She sighed as she slid back into the bath, receiving a light kiss to her neck, which tried to travel north to her lips.
"We make love too often!" she teased decidedly, pushing his face to one side
"Too often!" He laughed, chuckling at her before his face darkened into regret and said "Though god knows I have experienced such things once wild with brilliance and beauty are deformed into the most gruesome monsters by excess… Though they were distorted by my own judgment! That too, is forever looming in front of my mind's eye" His head was bowed now, the words dissolving into whispers as he spoke.
"How many times did we make love on our wedding night?" She asked, drawing him out of his regretful stupor. "Five times…" He whispered
"I remember now… I felt…" she paused, in thought "as the Mountaineer who reaches the summit of the world's tallest mountain could not experience the same sweet power as we did"
"I have not the words to express it as you do my love, my eloquence fails me. But feel my heart, Jane", at this he suddenly swivelled his hand on top of hers and clutched her palm to his chest
"Perhaps it could beat out a rhythm that can".
As her eyelids slid shut she concentrated on the heavy beat of the pounding organ.
She swept the flannel up to his stomach and massaged it over his wet skin,
Savouring his sighs of contentment which were rapidly becoming heavy laden with arousal as she weaved the soaked rag past his neck, watching the water spill silently down his face and into his yearning mouth as she squeezed it on his forehead. Consumed by the increased pounding of his heart beneath her palm, she rolled the flannel to cover his eyes, tying it loosely at the back of his head. As he raised his hand to paw at the wet material, Jane entwined it in her's and drew it away, guiding it down her thigh and leaving it there to softly grasp his sex.
By now her own sighs were in unison with his as she keenly absorbed his groans of mounting ecstasy, sweet expressions of the intensity building within him. In seeing him bite his lip in passion, she suddenly tasted the desperation for them and turned his face towards her, running her finger over his open mouth, which was swollen with desire until finally savouring the round poutiness of it with her own, and as their tongues poured into each other, as his heartbeat grew so strong it shuddered through his body, Jane and Edward realised that their summit could never be high enough.