AYLETH

Etan looked like he'd almost swallowed his tongue. He sat up straight and his green eyes—almost the color of the bright grass scattered under the trees here—went wide behind the curtain of his black hair.

Strangely, his own discomfort made hers seem less. She grinned at him and cupped his handsome face, his jaw already shadowed since he hadn't shaved that morning. She let her nails catch in it. "You will be my husband, Etan. I will not allow anyone an opportunity to take this from us. And we don't know how it will go with our parents. We hope, of course, that it will go well. But what if it doesn't."

"Yes, but… Ayleth!" he sputtered.

She put her lips to his, just rested them there and his mouth, already partly open stayed soft to her. Desire curled in her belly. "I don't want to give myself to anyone but you, Etan," she whispered. "And even though I am nervous, I assure you, I want this a great deal."

"But… we're waiting, remember?"

She shook her head. "I don't think we should."

His eyes were still open, and wide, but she pulled him towards her, arching back slightly and tasting him with her tongue until he blew out a breath and his hands tightened on her hips.

"Ayleth…" he breathed and the rasp in his voice, the plea, it was a spear to her heart. She sucked in and deepened the kiss, rolling into him.

His fingers tightened, digging deliciously into her hips as he pulled her against him.

Clawing her hands through his hair, she whimpered, her desire rising, but her fear ever-present. She wanted this. She did. But she feared it too.

His breath caught and she began to unbutton her own leathers since he seemed reluctant to begin on his own. He pulled back to watch her, his pupils growing so large, his eyes got darker.

When she'd popped the first row and was beginning on the second, his breath got faster and his eyes widened. She could feel his arousal and shifted her lips to rub against him until he groaned and lifted a hand to her neck.

"Ayleth." He swallowed convulsively.

She spoke, meaning to leave him in no doubt of her decision, but her wretched voice came out as a desperate squeak. "I don't want anyone to be able to take this from us, Etan."

"Oh, Ayleth, love…" he closed his eyes as she leaned in to kiss the tendon that ran from under his ear, all the way down his strong neck.

She finally got the last button undone and shrugged her leathers off her shoulders, pulling them down her arms even while she continued kissing his salty skin.

"Etan, I love you," she whispered as she tossed the jacket aside. "You are the one for me. Please, don't say no. If something were to happen to one of us—"

He groaned and pulled her into his chest, tight, both arms around her, then rolled them both over, until she lay on the blanket and he loomed over her, the blanket fisted in his hands, his arms veined and shaking with the strain of holding himself back.

He stared at her like she was a marvel. A miracle. His full lips open as if they waited to take hers.

His hair fell over his forehead and down towards her and it made her smile, how young it made him look. She lifted a hand to push his hair back and his eyes dropped to her breast, now open to the air and peaked, pressed toward him by her extended arm.

He groaned and began to lower himself, his mouth, to kiss it. But he shuddered and pushed himself back up, keeping them apart.

"Etan, please," she said, her eyes pinching as she traced his handsome face.

"I… Ayleth…" His eyes were wild and he shook, fighting what he wanted—what she wanted! So, she looped her arms around his neck and pulled herself up to take his mouth with hers, tracing his lips with her tongue and breathing his name.

He groaned again and lowered them both to the ground, his weight pressing her into the blanket in a delicious press that had her rolling her hips again. And to her delight, he rolled his in response.

"Please, Etan," she whispered, kissing his lips, his jaw, his neck. "Please."

"Ayleth, we cannot. We cannot," he said hoarsely, but his lips kept finding hers. His hips kept finding hers. He didn't push away.

She arched into him, pulling him in and opening her knees, sighing when he slid to rest between them. "I love you, Etan. I love you so much."

"Oh, Lord, help me," he gasped, then kissed her neck, open mouthed and sucking.

Goosebumps pebbled her skin from under her ear, all the way down her arm and side, and she shivered. "Yes," she breathed.

He had one hand in her hair and she grasped his wrist, pulling it down until he palmed her breast. "Yes," she whispered again.

The noise that tore from his throat, the desperation in the way he shook, it was heady. Her mother had spoken of these moments when you knew a man fought himself to overcome you and could not. The power it gave a woman.

Thrilling she'd called it.

Intoxicating, Ayleth would have said. Knowing his strength, his tenderness, his desire, was all rolled into one great clench of need in him that he was struggling to deny.

She closed her eyes and let her head drop back when he kissed his way down to her breast, then opened his mouth over her nipple and sucked, his tongue playing with electricity on her skin.

She gasped and her eyes opened. The brightness of the day surprised her, the openness where they lay in the shade of the tree. But it was the sight of him, eyes dark with desire, mouth latched on her skin, that toppled her out of thought.

She gasped as he rolled his hips and held the pressure this time, arching into her, pressing the seam of her leathers into her in a tangle of sensations that both peaked her desire, and edged in pain.

"Yes," she sighed, stroking his shoulders and letting her eyes close again. "Yes."