It is incredible to Jean that after six months of marriage, the sight of Lucien unselfconsciously nude and on display in front of her, still makes her stomach flop over and a blush color her face.
It is absolutely ridiculous in fact, but it has yet to change.
He is big and broad and strong with the story of his life quite literally etched into his skin. Her husband is a beautiful man, and he is hers.
Tonight, is proving to be no exception.
Jean is sitting up reading when Lucien enters their bedroom. She can tell he is utterly exhausted, and she cannot really blame him. He rarely gets home this late these days, but the case he is working on broke open in the late afternoon. He called from the station letting her know he would be tying up loose ends until well after supper.
Even as tired as he is, he asks after her day and what she plans to do tomorrow. She is in the middle of running down everything she needs to get baked for the school fundraiser when he gets tangled in his shirt and vest trying to take them both off at once. She chuckles, and pats the bed beside her.
Smiling fondly at him, she calls out, "Come to bed, love."
Jean marks her place and lays her book on the bedside table. When she reaches to turn off the lamp, she catches sight of Lucien taking off his trousers and trunks at the same time leaving him gloriously naked before he pulls on his pajama bottoms.
She swallows hard when the familiar heat spreads through her body. On any other night, she would have undressed them both as soon as Lucien's back hit the mattress, riding him until he forgets how hard his day has been, but not tonight.
He needs his rest.
Jean knew she made the right decision when Lucien flops down on the bed, snuggles up close to her side, mumbles something that sounds like good night darling, and almost immediately starts snoring.
The next morning Jean hears Lucien before she sees him. She hears his shuffling, sleepy steps as he makes his way to her in the kitchen.
It brings a smile to her face to think of how she left him at daybreak. When she slipped from his arms that morning, he had barely moved. He was so tired, he just rolled into the space she left onto his stomach, stretching across their bed like a starfish.
But here he is not even an hour later, wrapping himself around her and nuzzling his nose into the sensitive place where her neck meets her jaw, his breath washing over a spot he knows drives her crazy.
Lucien's whole being envelops her like this. The heat of his bare chest is pressed against her back and his big arms are wrapped almost double around her waist. He smells of sleep, of their bed, of home.
"You were sleeping like the dead when I left you."
He kisses her neck then, mouth open and tongue leaving her skin buzzing.
"There's only so much sleeping I can do without you by my side, my darling."
He is too charming by half and he knows it. It becomes clear to Jean very quickly his intention is to entice her back to bed. His arms slowly unwind from her waist and his hands rest on her hips, pulling her bum firmly back into where he is half hard for her already.
"I have a lot to do this morning, Lucien." Jean tuts and Lucien chuckles.
He raises his head and nips at her earlobe as his hands move from her hips to her breasts, kneading gently before he whispers, "We have plenty of bread, Jean."
Jean can't help the way her hips push back into his, her back arching and her breasts pressing more firmly into his hands. She can feel him grin against her skin when she whimpers, but she is not so easily deterred.
"This isn't for us. It's for the school fundraiser. They asked me to contribute to the bake sale. I told you last week and reminded you of it last night."
"Ah, yes...of course."
"You don't remember, do you?"
He drops his forehead to her shoulder and laughs. "No, it must have slipped my mind."
"That case has kept you rather busy. I'll allow it."
Jean turns in his arms, careful not to cover him in flour as she kisses him softly. He makes a happy little sound that warms her heart when their lips meet. She tries to pull back before things get out of control but he chases her, rubbing his nose along the side of hers.
"I'm dropping these loaves off after lunch time, and with your case all wrapped up that leaves us the rest of the day to do whatever we want."
"Is that so? What do you have in mind?"
The next kiss she bestows upon him is anything but soft. Her tongue surges past his lips, and she slides her leg between his, moving forward into his growing hardness.
She tries to pull away once more because she really does need to get the bread done, but once more he doesn't let her get very far. His lips press against hers firmly once, twice more before he rests his forehead against hers.
Jean shakes her head good-naturedly at her husband's obvious affection. He really is such a dear man, and she would like nothing more than to while the day away in bed with him, but she made a promise to the school. As long as she works quickly, she can still be done in plenty of time to be back in his arms.
"If you go back to bed now alone, you can have me any way you like later?"
Lucien makes some sort of exaggeratedly strangled disappointed moan that makes Jean giggle but he backs up this time, hands raised.
"You win."
Jean watches him go with his shoulders slumped and his hanging like a little boy who was told he couldn't have dessert until after he finished his vegetables.
Finally, she turns back to the counter to finish her kneading. However, all she can think about are his broad hands on her hips, running up along her ribs to her breasts, which almost immediately leads to her being assaulted by memories of his mouth making the same trip.
Damn that man!
Jean finishes the loaf she's been working on and sets it aside to prove, but she stops before grabbing the next one.
Do they really need another? She prepared four already and surely that is plenty?
The thought of her half-naked, adorably sleepy husband whose arousal was very recently pressed against her backside, makes her chuck that last ball of dough in the bin.
She grabs the timer, doing some quick maths before setting it. Then, she makes a beeline for their bed.
Lucien listens to Jean, if only for the simple fact she almost always knows best.
Even if all he wanted when he walked in the kitchen was to bend her over the kitchen table. Even if he wanted to hike her skirt up around her waist and use his mouth and hands to bring her pleasure before he took her right there in her spotless kitchen.
It wouldn't be the first time he had done it, and definitely not the last. He is pretty sure he'll never grow tired of watching his wife fall apart because of him, wherever she'll have him.
But she is right. He is still exhausted from the case yesterday. They have all day to spend in bed after she finishes her baking. As a matter of fact, they have their whole lives stretched out before them. He can be patient, for now.
Or at least that's what he thought.
Because something had stirred him from the otherworldly limbo between wakefulness and sleep, something pleasurable and warm and sinfully wet.
Bloody hell! She is going to be the death of him, he is sure of it, but what a way to go.
Lucien's eyes fly open and he pushes up onto his elbows just in time to see Jean lick a stripe up the side of his shaft. He sees her tongue swirl around the tip of his cock before she gently eases him into her mouth. When she sucks gently, his head involuntarily falls back onto his pillow
"J-Jean...what are you…Christ, woman...doing?"
Jean pulls her mouth off of him with an obscene-sounding pop, sitting back on her heels, she replaces her mouth with her hand.
She sets a firm, steady pace, before daintily wiping the corners of her mouth and responding, "I'm quite busy at the moment, dear." She heaves a sigh and makes a big show of checking her watch before continuing, "The bread has 30 more minutes to prove and then I need to get back to work. May I continue?"
Lucien lifts his head once more watching her hand work him. Slicking him with the wetness from her mouth, and what is already weeping from his tip. She twists her wrist on the next downstroke and he whimpers before he can stop himself.
The sound causes her to smirk at him. Smug isn't usually a word he associates with his wife but this is as close as she's ever come.
Then she arches her eyebrow, no words are necessary. The raise of her eyebrow is a question, a warning, a gesture that says time's wasting. All he can do is nod dumbly, mouth hanging open while she says, "Right, then."
Seemingly content with his response, she leans down once more. When she takes him in her mouth this time, she doesn't stop until she meets her hand halfway down his length, hollowing her cheeks on the way back up.
Some mixture of her name and a blasphemous curse leaves his mouth, and she hums around him when she hears it, twists her wrist again and redoubles the efforts of her mouth. It seems she's on a mission to completely undo him in record time and she's succeeding.
By god, she is good at this. Before they were wed, he had been worried about certain bedroom activities. She was obviously not a blushing virgin but he knew she had only ever slept with one other person. Another person she had been wholly devoted to, even after death. That devotion to him, coupled with her strong faith and sense of propriety left him thinking he would have to coax her out of her shell a bit.
Lucien could not have been more excited to be wrong. Their honeymoon had been a revelation. She absolutely lit up when he touched her, was responsive and vocal about what she liked, and seemed just as eager to learn what pulled him apart as well. She seems to catch fire in moments like these, and he willingly catches flame right along with her.
His hands move to her hair when she starts to bob her head in earnest. It is already pinned for the day, and he is rather certain she won't particularly like it but he needs to touch her, wants to be able to run his hands through her soft curls. He needs something of her to ground him because he's starting to feel like he might fly apart at any moment.
The first pin comes out easily but he doesn't get a chance to grab another one because he feels Jean's teeth graze against his shaft. It's not enough to be painful, but she gets her point across.
However, he has never really been the kind of man to heed warnings, so why should he start now?
When he takes out the second pin, she makes what can only be described as the most adorable growl of frustration he has ever heard. His amusement is short lived though because in the next moment, she takes him out of her mouth, and bites into the sensitive flesh at the top of his thigh.
His yelp of surprise quickly turns into a moan when her teeth sink into his skin. It is fortunate she moved her mouth too because he cannot help the way his hips thrust sharply into the hand she still has around him.
She sighs heavily, put upon, but he knows she is teasing him, "I have things to do today, Lucien."
"And you're doing a damn fine job I'd say."
Jean huffs a laugh then, her warm breath hitting the oversensitive flesh of his cock.
"I'm serious. Hands at your sides."
"Yes, ma'am."
Jean rolls her eyes at him as his hands fist the sheets. This time when she bends to her task, she takes him in her mouth as far as she can once, twice, three times and then her hand is there again slipping more easily through her fist. She ups the pace too, moving both her hand and her head quicker now. The change of speed rips a groan from somewhere low in his chest.
The first time Jean had done this for him, she had stood between his legs at the end of a hotel bed in Paris, taken a deep breath, dropped to her knees, and in her no-nonsense, practical way asked if it was okay if she used her mouth on him.
You don't have to-
I want to.
It was embarrassing how fast he had come apart beneath her ministrations, but the sight of Jean, on her knees with his length disappearing into her perfect mouth had been too much for him.
It remains too much, frankly. Especially, when she's still fully dressed. She is still prim and proper, her waist is still cinched within her girdle and her stockings are still covering the bare skin of her legs. She looks every bit the stern unapproachable housekeeper.
He has learned she is anything but, and he revels in it.
Lucien bites off another curse when he feels the nails on her free hand press into his ass, using her grip to encourage him to thrust shallowly.
He pushes his hips into her hand over and over again, his shaft sliding easily through her grip. The wetness from her mouth and tongue on the head of his cock easing the way. The constant gripping, licking, sucking, is driving him absolutely mad with want for her.
He feels a familiar tightening down low, and he somehow chokes out a warning, "Close. I'm close...I'm going to-". He tries to give her time to remove her mouth, and maybe grab his pajama pants or the sheet for him to finish on, but she apparently has no such plans.
She just hums again and relaxes her jaw letting him thrust into the hot, wet heat of her mouth that little bit more.
Her grip on his shaft tightens too and it doesn't take much longer after that. Between the suction and her hand it's too much and he spills into her mouth with a hoarse cry.
Lucien is lying there gasping, trying to catch his breath when he feels Jean's mouth on the mark she left on his thigh. Curious, he props himself up once more to see exactly what she is doing.
Her tongue is working over the darkening bruise she left there with her teeth. The skirt of her dress is bunched around her waist, and he can see her pert arse in the air, still covered by the satin of her knickers. The straps from her garters, pulled tight from her position, are digging into the supple flesh of her bum. Most importantly, even though he can't see it, he can feel the way her hand is moving between her legs. She is breathing hard through her nose, writhing against her own touch and it is too much. He needs her closer.
He nearly growls her name, and it's the only warning he gives her before he catches her under her arms, and hauls her up his body.
Jean gives an undignified little yelp that makes Lucien smile when she's interrupted. Her indignation quickly turns to arousal as she gasps out yes, and shivers when he bends his knee and lets the hot center of her settle on his leg.
Both of her hands land beside his head, holding her up. Lucien grabs onto her arse, guiding her hips, and he kisses her messily. Their teeth knock together a little, as his tongue surges forward tasting himself in her mouth.
He can hear her whimpering, moving against his leg quickly. He takes one hand off her arse and moves it to the buttons of her dress, fumbling until he gets a few undone. It is all the room he needs to reach into her bra and roll a nipple between his fingers.
He is rewarded by her breathless reply, "Oh, Lucien." Her grin spreads against his lips, before she kisses him fiercely nipping at his bottom lip, and sucking at his tongue.
The gusset of her knickers is soaked through. He can feel it as she grinds against his bare leg, relentlessly chasing her pleasure. She whines a little then, as her hips dig in deeper and he knows that won't be enough.
She nearly whines as the same realization hits her, "Lucien, please. I need-".
He doesn't let her finish. His hand leaves her breast in an instant, pushing past the fabric of her dress and into her knickers. He cups her sex, letting her grind the bundle of nerves at her center against his palm.
"Take what you need, my darling"
Jean pushes her hips into Lucien's hand with a long drawn out moan and her hand flies to the breast he abandoned, twisting and plucking at her own nipple.
If he was a younger man, he would be hard for her again without question. She is glorious in her abandon and he loves this wanton side of her, the side only he gets to see.
They aren't even kissing anymore, not really. Their mouths are hanging open, and both of them are gasping for the same breath, and he knows she's close. She is slippery and hot against his palm, and when he curls two fingers into her she hisses out more and harder.
He has never denied her anything, and he is not about to start now. He uses his thigh for leverage to help his fingers thrust into her harder, and she loses herself completely.
Jean is panting, gasping with every thrust of Lucien's fingers. The movement of her hips quickens, the rhythm of her thrusting hips shortens, and he can tell the moment her release takes her. She stills and her inner muscles seize, catching his fingers inside of her before she shatters completely, trembling, moaning his name. Her hips stutter against his hand, trying to wring every last bit of pleasure out that she can.
At last, she stills, and he has just enough time to remove his hand from her knickers before she collapses, boneless on top of him.
He is certain he could stay in this bubble of contentment forever, his beloved warm and sated in his arms.
Lucien is a lucky bastard, and he knows it.
Eventually, their chests stop heaving as their breathing slowly returns to normal. Jean presses a soft kiss to his chest before she lifts her head, blowing a chunk of hair out of her face, and narrowing her eyes.
"You messed up my hair."
Lucien can't help the laugh he lets loose, and her fake ire cracks with a wide smile. It is moments like these he never expected but he's all too glad he has. She makes him gloriously happy, more than he ever thought possible.
"You should see the rest of you."
His cheek earns him a smack to the chest. "You sound entirely too proud of yourself, Doctor Blake."
Before she has the chance to move off of him however, he rolls them over and kisses her soundly.
"I am simply in awe, my love. In awe."
Unfortunately, the moment is broken by the sound of the timer going off in the kitchen.
Jean does not seem as determined to finish her tasks however. She closes her eyes and swears under her breath, "Damn!"
"What language Mrs. Blake! You're the one with the terribly important bread to bake. I'm still perfectly happy staying right here the rest of the day."
She laughs and bites at the underside of his jaw "Is that so?"
"Well, not exactly right here."
Lucien leans down to kiss her once more on the lips before moving his mouth down over her chin, her jaw, her neck before wrapping his tongue around her nipple.
Jean gasps and tangles her fingers in his curls, holding him to her breast and breathing out, "I guess we can just make a donation to the school this year."
"I think that sounds like a fine idea."