AYLETH
When he kissed her, they both sucked in hard.
His breath was hot, his hands searching. She clung to his waist as he bent over her, taking her mouth gently, but insistently.
She let her hands climb his back first, pressing to feel the steel muscles beneath his shirt, her first instinct that she must be careful, have caution, that they might be discovered.
But no, she remembered with joy, this was right. This was true and good. He was her husband. Her body was his, and his was hers.
With a small gasp, tilting her head into his kiss—between his hands that framed her face—she pulled back enough to begin unbuttoning his shirt.
It was the work of moments to get them undone and when she pulled the sides of his shirt apart and put her hands to his stomach, his muscles clenched like her touch burned. But he grabbed her chin and deepened the kiss, a low hum in his throat resonating in his chest so she felt it under her hands.
She whispered his name and he groaned, walking her slowly backwards—not to the bed as she would have expected, but towards the nearest of the large, thick chairs before the cold fire. She was about to ask, when he dropped suddenly, putting one arm behind her knees, the other behind her shoulders and lifting her to his chest. She gave a little squeak, but, as if he couldn't bear to be apart, he took her mouth again before he'd even settled himself in the seat, cradling her.
Moments later, she dropped her head back as he kissed his way down her neck, his long fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck and raising goosebumps that shivered down her spine, his other hands curving to hold her waist, only his thumb flat to her stomach and stroking.
She sighed as she dropped her head back further and he hummed against her throat. But then, his mouth still open on her skin, he spoke.
"We have time, Ayleth," he whispered. "We have all night. All our lives."
"I don't want to wait anymore, Etan," she said, pulling her head up to meet his eyes.
He sat in the chair with her in his lap, leaning back on his arm. His head turned which made that cord of muscle stand proud.
She wanted to lick it.
As if he heard the thought heat flared in his eyes. But he didn't kiss her again, instead he used a finger to pull the hair away that had stuck to her cheek.
"I don't want to wait either, Ayleth, trust me. This isn't the time to wait… but… to savor," he said, and his smile grew even as his eyes hooded.
Ayleth couldn't help but smile in return.
Then, as he spoke, he began to slowly open the buttons of her blouse, his eyes still locked on hers. "Tonight is the night to learn each other," he whispered, popping the button at her throat first. This his hand slid down to the next. "It's the night to ask questions, and to discover." The second button open, he moved again, then again, then again, Ayleth's breath growing faster, but his eyes never left hers.
He leaned into her as his hand disappeared into her shirt, his palm sliding against her stomach first, so her skin prickled and tingled as he slid it slowly, slowly upwards.
He'd had his hands on her before. He'd even done it in an unhurried way once or twice. But just the knowing that this would not stop. That there was no need to stop. That it was right to finally join with him… it was as if it were the first time he'd touched her.
Her breath caught when his thumb brushed over her nipple.
"Light, you're beautiful," he whispered and took her mouth again.
Suddenly feeling desperate, she clawed her hands into his hair, pulling him in as he leaned her back over his arm, his kiss hot, demanding—but still restrained. Still leashed.
She traced his lips with hers, danced with his tongue, raked her hands through his hair and gripped his shoulders. His breath became a pant and Ayleth was suddenly overdressed.
They both were.
She slid her hands under his shirt again, pushing it back until it caught on the massive rounds of his shoulders.
"Will you?" he rasped into the kiss, lifting his hand so she could reach the buttons at first one wrist, then she sat up so he could offer her other. Still kissing him, she wrestled with the tiny buttons, but soon they were both free and she pulled off first one sleeve, then the other and he shrugged so the shirt fell back over the chair and he was bare from the waist up.
She did stop kissing him then, to look at him, to run her hands over his chest and take in the sight of his stomach, crunched forward as he held her, the muscles of his shoulders and arms flexing and rippling whenever he moved. And she had to bite her tongue to stop herself demanding him.
Savor it, he'd said.
Still sitting up, she dropped her mouth to his shoulder, kissing the divot behind his collarbone.
He groaned and his hand tightened at her waist, but he dropped his head back so she would have more room.
His skin was salty. He smelled of pine and horses and… something that was just him. The most beautiful smell in the world. She kissed her way up his neck to his ear, teasing the lobe with her tongue until he groaned so it rumbled in his chest again and those sparkles from her belly shot through her middle.
Then he kissed her desperately, tugging her loose-sleeved blouse back from her shoulders and following the fabric with his hand as it slid away to bare her to him.
When his warm hand reached for her, covering her breast, his thumb stroking, a tiny whimper rose in her throat.
"Ayleth," he gasped into this kiss.
"Yes, Etan."
"I love you. I need you to know that before… before… it is… this is… I am humbled to be here with you, my beautiful wife."
Ayleth's head dropped back and she closed her eyes against tears as he kissed her jaw and touched her.
"I love you, Etan."
"You honor me, Ayleth." He swallowed audibly, then pulled back to meet her eyes. "You own me."
"When then," she whispered stroking his face. "I suppose we are even."