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Not only fish smells fishy.

It was exquisite and sensual, and he never wanted it to end.

Lyara wondered if Farkas knew how beautiful he was under all that dirt. She looked at the serene expression on his face. His eyes were closed, and his long black lashes rested on his cheeks. He had a large masculine nose, and wide cheekbones. His strong square jaw was covered in its usual stubble that surrounded his soft full lips. She dropped the cloth into the water and placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, then slowly started to move up and down his shaft.

Eyes the colour of a cloudless winter sky opened to look back at her. They were pale and icy, yet held a promise of warmth. She moved only slightly as her arousal had been building for some time, and needed very little stimulus. Going by the expression on her lover's face, the same applied.

Farkas could feel his balls starting to ache, desperate for release. He looked down into the water to see the piece of soap floating by her leg, and snatched at it. He rubbed his hands together, until they were slick with the soap. He dropped it back into the water, before cupping his hands over her breasts. His hands glided over her erect nipples, and then back around for another pass. Her skin was smooth and slick as his soap-covered hands slipped under her breasts, pushing them and squeezing them. Eventually, enough of the soap rubbed off for the palms to gain purchase, and pushing the mounds together, he rubbed the sensitive nubs of her nipples with his thumbs.

Lyara let out a moan, and threw her head back. Her eyes rolled back slightly and she shuddered over him. He tried to hold back but couldn't, and released his load deep in her belly. He felt as if he was going to pass out, as the orgasm that had been a long time coming ripped through him, and was so intense it was almost painful.

Once they had recovered enough from their climax to stand, Lyara climbed off Farkas, then stepped out of the tub before turning and helping him up. They headed upstairs to their bedroom, leaving wet foot prints behind them.

Still damp, they snuggled under the soft furs, and Lyara was content as Farkas wrapped his strong arms about her. He lay on his back, and she pressed her body as close as she could, and rested her head on her chest, as one of his hands traced slow lazy circles at the small of her back. She was amazed that this felt so right, so perfect. There were no doubts at all left in her mind about whether Farkas truly loved her.

She hoped that in time Vilkas would accept her as his brother's wife, as she knew their estrangement would cause Farkas a great amount of pain. She hoped that his hostility towards her was nothing more than some misguided over-protectiveness. Vilkas as the elder twin had obviously assumed the mantel of guardian for the two orphans. She was not sure what she had to do to show Vilkas that she would not hurt his brother, but she would be happy to spend the rest of her life proving it.

"Since leaving Valenwood as a young elf, I've spent years wandering the lands of Tamriel working as a mercenary. I took any job - some I am not proud of - as long as there was coin in it. It made me quite rich, but all the time I was wandering, I think I was searching for a home, a family; somewhere I felt I belonged. I have that now, and it's right here."

She pointed her finger into the centre of her husband's chest.

"I don't mean the Companions, or Jorrvaskr, or even this house. It is here, in your arms. For the first time, I really feel like I have come home."

Farkas was so full of emotion at the words of his love that he couldn't speak, lest his voice betray him. He tightened his grip around her. He wanted to tell her he would love her for the rest of his life, but decided to show her instead.

Much later, tired, happy and thoroughly satisfied, she gently drifted to sleep, the trace of a smile still on her lips.

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