Kael's lips lingered on mine for a breath, then another, before he pulled back just enough to look at me again. His eyes searched mine, not with demand but with a question, giving me space to step away if I chose to. I didn't. Instead, I reached for him, my fingers brushing the front of his coat, feeling the rigid line of buttons, the texture of fabric over steel, and the solid presence of the man beneath—a wall of restraint and power balanced in tension.He let me close the distance this time, his hands settling lightly on my waist, steady and patient. His touch was a question, not a demand—a silent asking for permission that I answered with a breath, a tilt of my head, a soft press of my hand to his chest. There was no rush, no command—only the careful dismantling of walls we'd both built, layer by layer. "You don't have to," Kael said quietly, low and tender. "I know this wasn't your choice." I swallowed hard, searching his eyes. "It was. Maybe not the way you think, but I chose this. I chose to be here."His fingers started to trace the curve of my spine, slow and deliberate, lingering in places that drew a sharp breath from my lips, sending shivers of awareness through every nerve. I felt every inch of his controlled strength wrapped in restraint, making me feel fragile and alive. "One word," he murmured, "and I'll stop." I shook my head, breathless. "Don't."His lips found mine again, slowly, exploring rather than claiming. I parted for him, uncertain but eager, and he deepened the kiss with a softness that made my breath hitch. His tongue brushed against mine, coaxing rather than demanding a silent invitation that I answered with a trembling sigh.Kael's hands traced my back, pulling me against him until our bodies aligned, heat to heat. I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine. His lips left mine only to press tender kisses along my jaw, then lower, tracing the column of my neck. His mouth was warm, his breath a whisper against my skin, and I gasped as his lips closed around the delicate skin just below my ear, sucking lightly until heat bloomed beneath the surface. "You're sweet," he murmured against my neck, voice roughened by restraint. "I didn't expect that."I shivered, hands tangled in the fabric of his coat. "I didn't expect you." He pulled back enough to look at me, something like a smile flickering at the edges of his lips. "Do I frighten you?" I hesitated, then shook my head. "No. But I've never. This is all new." Kael nodded slowly, then leaned in again, kissing my collarbone before murmuring, "Then let me learn you." One by one, we removed the layers between us, garments and doubts falling away like autumn leaves caught in a slow, inevitable descent until nothing was left but bare truth and breathless silence, the air thick with anticipation and unspoken promise.When he laid me down, it was with reverence, not possession. His hands cradled me as if I were something precious, not fragile, but worthy of care. The silks of the bed were remarkable beneath my skin. It starkly contrasted the heat between us, heightening every sensation until I felt alight from within. "You're shaking," he said, brushing hair from my face. "I've never..." I trailed off, heat rising to my cheeks. Kael's expression softened. "I'll be careful."His touch moved along my body with a purposeful and inquiring touch that revealed his thirst for learning rather than control. His fingers probed the landscape of trust through each touch, tracing lines of heat and promise. "Is this okay?" With his hand resting at my waist, he asked. "Yes," I panted. "It's. New. But it's okay." Each touch held a dialogue while every breath delivered a whispered promise against my skin, and the air between us buzzed with tension and a near wonder that felt like a nascent belief.His body pressed against mine, warm and solid, each movement deliberate and reverent as he explored me with hands that trembled slightly beneath their control. The movement of his head along my neck tightened my chest while burning sensations lingered in its aftermath. "You have the scent of wildflowers," he murmured. "I did not expect that."His gentleness caught me by surprise. He lifted his head, our eyes meeting in silence. "You deserve nothing less." Every stroke set me ablaze, my nerves vibrating with life. The slow movement of his lips traced the curve of my jaw down my throat and left a trail of heat that triggered my gasp. He lingered at the hollow of my neck, sucking gently, and the sensation made me arch beneath him, a soft moan escaping my lips. "Tell me if I'm too much," he said softly."You're not," I replied, breathless. "Just... don't stop." His hand slid from my waist, fingers brushing over the swell of my breast, tentative at first, then firmer as he felt me respond. A shiver ran through me, a heat pulse settling low in my belly. "I didn't think this would feel like... this," I admitted. His voice bearing the weight of truth, he spoke, "Neither did I." As he moved upward against me, his hardness pressed against my entrance with steady insistence. My breathing paused as my muscles tightened with eager anticipation. His gaze again connected with mine as he searched for my last approval. "I won't hurt you," he murmured."I know," I said. "I trust you." With deliberate care, he pressed forward at a slow pace. I felt the head of him parting me, the sensation sharp, invasive, a pressure that made me stiffen and gasp. He paused, breath ragged, his forehead resting against mine. I felt my body's resistance—the proof of my innocence—and he did not push past it. Not yet. "Breathe," he whispered. I did. And as I exhaled, he moved, slowly breaching that final barrier with agonizing slowness. I cried out softly, the sharp bite of pain bringing tears to my eyes as the unfamiliar stretch filled me. My nails dug into his shoulders."Sorry," I gasped. "Don't be," he said quickly, his voice tight with control. "We'll go slow." He stilled, his body taut, trembling with restraint. One hand brushed the hair from my face, the other cradling my hip. He waited—still, silent—giving me time to adjust. I nodded, wordless but sure. "I'm okay." He moved again, each motion measured and reverent. "Better?""Yes." The pain softened, giving way to something fuller, more profound. An ache, a need. "This is... different from what I imagined," I whispered. Kael smiled faintly. "Me too." Each thrust was a question, tender yet intense, and my body answered, drawn into the rhythm. The tension coiled tighter, rising with every breathless gasp, every shared look.My hands roamed the planes of his back, grounding me in the fierce tenderness of the moment, in how his body sheltered mine, and how he made space for every part of me—pain, pleasure, and everything in between. It was not dominance or command but the shedding of fear, the deliberate lowering of walls we had both fortified for survival. Each breath and touch was a surrender, an offering of trust in a world that had given us little reason to extend it. Our bodies moved in rhythm, no longer just seeking pleasure but connection—a shared claiming of the moment as ours alone. And in that raw vulnerability, in the way we gave ourselves freely and without pretense, there was a quiet, undeniable power—not one born of duty or demand, but of trust, pure and unspoken, binding us more completely than any vow ever could. We had sealed our marriage in truth, breath, skin, and choice.
