She wanted his hands to roam around her body the way artists sculpt their sculptures.” for rebelcaptain?
A number of people sent me messages about liking more outtakes from the Royal Arranged Marriage AU, so here’s another “missing scene.”
In finishing school, Jyn had opted for sculpture and ceramics over water colors or the painting of fine china–she had a heavy hand and did not excel at delicate work. Her instructor had looked so pained when she presented to him he first canvas and seemed relieved when her highness had arranged through her private secretary to switch her art course. And though no proficient, Jyn proved to have at least a good eye and an instinct for curve of a vase or the way the thigh muscle stretched and moved on the human form.
And the way she had touched that clay, the way it had yielded to her hands, was how she wanted Cassian–her husband (how new and novel and wonderful it felt now to think of him this way and to want it and him the way she did)–to touch her now. But finishing school had tamed much of her instinctual wildness, and she felt the appropriate amount of embarrassment now at wanting to ask him for this because of what had been drilled into her from eight to eighteen.
They’d stayed in bed most of the morning, pushing the heavy curtains together as much as they could to keep out the sun and the duties that lay ahead for them both. Curled up, they had talked and kissed, laughing and breathless with the discovery that they had for this chance to redo the first blush of love.
He knelt before her now though, her naked legs bracketing him, and he was unable to hide the adoration in his face and this new turn in their marriage. He reached out and touched his face, rubbing the scruff of his beard in her hands and relishing how tactile they could now be with one another.
Cassian leaned into her hand, kissing her palm, but it only made her want him more, and she felt the ache of desire between her legs.
“They’ll call us for breakfast soon,” she said at last. “Soft-boiled eggs and toast. Marmalade I suppose, and of course tea.”
“Of course,” he echoed. “What should we do until then?” he asked, playing along, since they were of like mind and had only one activity that currently interested them.
And since Jyn still could not ask, not with words at least, she slid to the ground to join him on the soft rug and used her sculptor’s hands to show him exactly what she wanted. Cassian, a quick study and a good student in his own right, caught on immediately. As his mouth found hers and drowned her in kisses, Jyn thought faintly that she would have to remind herself to tell him later that if this had been one of her sculpting classes, he would have passed with flying marks.