The room felt warmer now, shadows flickering across the walls as the firelight danced. She could hear the rain outside the window, a soft, steady drumbeat that seemed to echo the pulse of her heart. She lay back on the bed, her hair spilling around her like dark silk, her eyes wide as he hovered above her.
His fingertips traced her collarbone, barely touching her skin, yet sending a shiver down her spine. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmured, his voice hoarse with need.
"I don't," she whispered. Her breath caught when he kissed the hollow of her throat, his lips warm and insistent, moving lower, tasting her skin as if he were starving for her.
When he untied the delicate ribbons of her nightdress, she tensed for a moment — so shy, so exposed — but his gaze on her was full of wonder, not judgment. He kissed her slowly as he slid the fabric away, revealing the soft swell of her breasts, the trembling of her belly beneath his palm.
She gasped when he took one nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling until it hardened under his touch. A rush of heat pooled low in her belly, unfamiliar but impossible to ignore. She arched against him, her hands clutching at his hair as he worshipped her body inch by inch.
When he parted her thighs, she flinched at the cool air on her most private place. But his hand was warm, his touch gentle, fingers sliding through the slickness there, exploring the soft folds that had never known another's touch.
He raised his eyes to hers, breathless. "You're so beautiful here," he said, his voice breaking on the words. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh before he began to stroke her with his fingers, learning what made her moan, what made her hips lift to meet him.
She felt the first wave of pleasure like a shock, her body trembling as he circled that sensitive bud again and again. She didn't know she could feel like this — so open, so raw, her legs falling wider as she whispered his name.
When he finally positioned himself at her entrance, he paused, his chest heaving. "This might hurt, love," he said, brushing his lips against hers. "But I'll go slow. I promise."
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her nails pressing into his skin. "I want it," she breathed. "I want you inside me."
The first push made her cry out — a sharp sting that made her eyes water. He held himself still, kissing her tears away, whispering soft praises until her body adjusted, until the ache softened into something warmer, deeper.
Then he began to move, each slow thrust sending sparks of pleasure through her nerves, mixing with the pain until she couldn't tell the difference. She clung to him, hips lifting to meet his, the sounds of their bodies filling the room — wet, breathless, desperate.
Her climax came sudden and fierce, stealing her breath as she tightened around him. He groaned her name, losing himself in the heat of her, the pulse of her body drawing him deeper until he spilled inside her, his own release shaking through him like a vow.
When it was over, he held her close, his lips pressed to her hair. She felt the soreness between her thighs, the warmth of his seed inside her, and the soft flutter of his heartbeat against her cheek.
In that moment, she knew this was only the beginning — the first of many nights they'd discover each other all over again.
When their breathing finally slowed, she lay curled against him, her head resting on his chest. She could feel the dull, sweet ache between her thighs — a reminder of what they'd just shared — and the warmth of him still deep inside her, even as he softened and slipped free.
He kissed the top of her head, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on her bare back. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice rough but laced with concern.
She lifted her eyes to meet his, a shy smile curving her lips. "A little sore," she admitted, blushing at how raw and open she felt with him now. "But… happy. So happy."
He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You're incredible, you know that?" He pulled her closer, his nose nuzzling the crook of her neck. "Come on. Let me take care of you."
Before she could ask what he meant, he sat up, gathering her gently in his arms. She squeaked in protest, but he only laughed, carrying her toward the adjoining bathroom. The light was soft and golden, flickering across the tiles as he set her down on the edge of the tub.
He turned the taps, adjusting the water until steam began to curl around them. When the showerhead came on, warm water cascaded down, and he tested it with his hand before helping her to her feet.
The heat made her shiver — or maybe it was the way his eyes roamed over her body again, hungry but reverent. She stepped under the spray, letting it wash away the traces of their lovemaking. He followed her in, crowding her back against the wall as water trickled down his shoulders, his hair slicked back, his lips parted.
His hands cupped her face, and he kissed her — slow, drugging, a taste of all the desire that still burned between them. He reached for the soap, lathering it in his palms before gliding them over her skin. She gasped when his fingers slid over her breasts, circling each nipple until they peaked again under the warm spray.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured against her neck. "Every inch of you."
She laughed softly, the sound dissolving into a moan when he dropped to his knees before her, the water pounding his broad shoulders. He kissed her belly, his tongue tracing lazy patterns lower and lower until she felt her legs trembling again.
She reached for him, threading her fingers through his wet hair, tugging him back up. "No," she whispered breathlessly, "I want you up here — I want to feel you."
His growl was low, rough in his throat. He pressed her back against the wall, his hands braced on either side of her as he kissed her again — this time with a hunger that sent fire racing through her veins. The water rushed over them, beads of it gliding down their slick, heated skin.
When he lifted her leg around his waist, she felt the hardness of him again, pressing insistently against her thigh. He didn't push inside yet — he just teased her, letting her feel his heat, the promise of more.
"You're sure?" he asked, his forehead pressed to hers, his voice trembling. "After… everything?"
She looked into his eyes, her lips curling in a shy, wicked smile she didn't know she could have. "I'm yours," she breathed. "As many times as you want."
With a hoarse curse, he caught her mouth in another kiss, and as the water washed over them, he pressed into her again — slowly, deeply — making her cry out against his lips. The heat, the slickness, the closeness — it all tangled together until she couldn't tell where the water ended and they began.
And as the steam rose around them, she knew she'd never feel more alive than she did in his arms — body and soul, made new again under the falling water and the unending promise of his touch.