Finding her way into his arms, into his bed, was easy enough. Easier than she'd ever imagined after she'd gotten past the initial terror. She'd grown to trust him, love him, in a way she'd never imagined she could. They'd moved past the chaste kisses and cuddling. Now there was passion where she'd felt only hesitant indulgence.

He'd been patient through it all, though she knew he wanted more. The prospect weighed heavily on her. What was too much? Could it send her into a desperate downward spiral if they went too far if being with him reminded her of all the things she'd fought so hard to repress?

Yet, as she lay curled beside him, she didn't care. He had helped her to feel normal and she found herself wishing to do the things a normal couple would do. Propped up by the pillows, they'd been enjoying their usual Friday night ritual of watching movies late into the night. She'd long since lost track of what it was that was on the tiny screen on the dresser and was dozing, her head resting on his chest, lulled by the beat of his heart.

Movement roused her from her near-slumber as he fumbled with the remote, extinguishing the only light source in the room, save the flickers through the curtains from the street below. Rand pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. It wasn't enough, she wanted more. She rolled over to sprawl across his chest and leaned into his lips, kissing him deeply. His hand slid up the small of her back, fingers hot against her skin. She found herself clutching at his shirt, and had to pull away to catch her breath.

"Wow," he exhaled, smiling up at her. Though his face was obscured by shadows, she knew that expression well. She'd become increasingly familiar with that bemused look of his when she took the next step in their intimacy. He rarely pushed, and when he did, it was with such gentleness she couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt. It wasn't his fault she was like this. He hadn't broken her to the point she'd never wanted, never even considered the possibility of finding love. And yet, she was in love. She'd found happiness with him, long sought and desperately won.

She laughed and fingered the hem of his shirt, tugging at it to reveal the well-toned stomach she'd often admired. She took a breath and pulled the garment once again, letting her fingers trace over the skin. He was so warm, his skin smooth, firm, and dark. She admired the contrast of her porcelain skin against his tanned olive tone before working her hands up to his chest. He sat up slightly to pull the shirt up and over his head, making his thick hair stand up at odd angles.

Once it was tossed to the side, he reached up to run his hand through her hair, pulling her down for another kiss, wistful and sweet. Caught up in the taste of his lips, she felt weak. She all but collapsed against him, fingers tracing over his chest. It was what she wanted, to just feel him, more of him, skin to skin. Was this lust, or love? She wondered momentarily before her thoughts were lost in the sensations enveloping her.

It was his turn to break away next. It took her a moment to realize he'd spoken. "Is this okay?" His voice was soft as silk in her ear, and she wondered what he meant before realizing that his hands had worked their way under her shirt, calloused fingertips tracing along her skin. She shivered at the heat of his hands on her bare flesh before answering him by sitting up to pull her own shirt over her head.

She hesitated as she realized that she now sat beside him, nearly naked, wondering if she dared go on. This was entirely new ground for her. If there was anyone she was willing to share herself with, it was Rand, but she feared how she might react should they go on. Would she panic? Would this intimacy, this moment be lost forever?

Catching her hesitance, Rand sat up beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder. When she didn't pull away, he drew her to him. He was like a furnace, if he was any warmer, she feared he'd sear her bare skin. It was too much, to be so close to him, no safety net, no pretenses of friendship. They'd moved beyond that months ago. Yet there was still this between them, her fear, her past, everything that she was.

Her body shook with emotion, her face dampening with tears. As she struggled to compose herself. He spoke softly all the while, the words of little importance, the tone soft and sweet. If she'd pushed against him, drew away, it would be over. He would let her go, but she wondered if she'd ever muster the courage again.

She managed to wipe away the tears and took a breath. This was what she wanted. She was safe with him. She'd always felt safe with him. Lifting her head, she reached up to draw his face to hers. She wouldn't give in to emotion, she wouldn't cry. Not again. When they finally came up for air, there were questions on his lips, but she spoke first.

"I want this," she assured him. "I'm just... a little scared..."

He caught her face in his hand again, kissing her tear-stained cheeks. "I don't want to do anything..."

She laughed, cutting him off. "Not of you. Of me..." She sighed, taking his hand in hers. "I'm afraid that I'll ruin this."

"Ellette," he soothed, "this doesn't have to go any further..."

She shook her head and leaned in to kiss him again, to still those lips that always were too kind, too understanding, too patient, too forgiving. When she broke free, she leaned her face into his shoulder and inhaled. He smelled so good, of those spices he was fond of, of sweat and of home. Their home.

His breath was hot on her neck as he bent to whisper, "Just tell me..." He kissed her neck, and she felt herself began to tense and tremble once more. "If you want to stop." Her breath all but stilled in her chest as his lips traveled along her neck to her shoulder. He pulled away from her then, his hands lightly caressing her upper arms as he studied her.

With a courage that surprised them both, she straddled him, placing her hands on his chest, and pushed him back against the pillows before he could speak again. He laughed, his hands settling on her hips. She leaned down to kiss him indulgently once more before sliding her hands down his chest, down his stomach, to the waistband of his boxers. Such a thin bit of cloth between them now, nothing much really. It would be so easy to pull them loose.

It wasn't as if she was unfamiliar with what lay beneath. Yet it was that familiarity that held her back. She closed her eyes. Rand wasn't like him. She wasn't doing this because it had been demanded. Rand would not take what she wasn't willing to give. And for the first time, she wanted to give. She took a deep breath, feeling his eyes on her. He was stark still, waiting for a sign, a movement from her.

She shook her head, determined, and tugged at the waistband, working them down lower on his hips before he caught her wrist, gently. He sat up, and gathered her up in his arms, kissing her face. "Please," he whispered, "let me." She nodded, allowing him to lower her onto the pillows where he'd lain moments before.

She had her hands in his hair, as he worked his way down her neck with feather-soft kisses. His hands roamed her body, responding to each sigh and moan his lips coaxed from her. She gasped as he cupped her breast and a thumb grazed her left nipple.

His eyes caught hers, pausing at the shuddering gasp his touch had provoked. All she could manage was a slight smile before he kissed her lips again. She felt weak as she clung to him, skin to skin, heart thundering in her chest. As if sensing her need, he pulled away from her, resting his forehead against hers, eyes closed, cradling her against him.

"I love you," he whispered.

The tears came again and she clung to him more desperately, fingers digging into his back. She gasped and struggled to catch her breath, to compose herself. With a sigh, he laid down beside her, pulling her into his arms.

"This can wait, Ellette."

She wiped at her face. "No!" she choked out. "You idiot." She wiped at her face again. "Just stop. Stop being so... so... you," she exclaimed.

He chuckled, and she couldn't help but smile.

"I don't know how to be anyone else."

She sighed. "I want this, Rand."

He smiled in that way that made her melt, running his hand through her short-cropped hair before cupping her face, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her cheekbone. "Don't do this for me," he said softly. "This isn't something I will chance getting wrong with you, Ellette. Not knowing what you've been through. I won't risk it. I won't risk you, or us..."

He was right, as he always was. He held the keys to her heart and knew it well. She smiled and kissed him lightly, stilling his words. "I trust you," she whispered as she pulled away, searching his eyes. She guided his hand back to her breast, "It's okay..."

He shook his head, chuckling, "Is it?"

She cracked a smile in response. Words seemed redundant as she caressed his chest, urging him to pursue what they had started. He responded with a sigh and gathered her up into a crushing embrace. When she worried he'd crush the breath from her, he laid her down once more, leaning over her. She felt her cheeks flush even further as he stared down at her intently.

"You're determined to see this through?" he asked, only a hint of amusement in his voice.

She nodded, words escaping her.

He bowed his head. "It hurts me," he said, "to see you cry. "

"I'm sorry..." her voice cracked, and he shook his head. She caught his cheek in her hand, smiling. "It's hard, to be vulnerable, to be open up to you, like this."

He searched her face before resting his forehead against hers. His lips found hers, calming the shuddering of the breath that rattled and caught in her chest. His hands found her hips, rough-skinned fingers working their way under her panties, the small bit of clothing separating her body from his. She closed her eyes, fighting back a swell of emotion that threatened to push her over the edge into panic as he slid the garment loose.

Feeling her stiffen beneath him, he pulled away, giving her a chance to catch her breath. Eyes closed, she fought down the fear and took hold of his forearm, fingertips finding the scars she knew so well.

It was his turn to stiffen then, but she took little notice. Those scars linked them. She'd been there when he'd gained them. They made him vulnerable and dear to her. Her right hand traced down the largest one, finding her way to his palm before twisting his hand around to lock her fingers in his. She gripped his hand, the knots of scar tissue so familiar and comforting. Her eyes flew open then, meeting his, her left hand winding in his hair, pulling him down to her.

They'd reached the point of no return, and they both knew it. No words, no foreplay was needed. With his free hand, he worked to disrobe himself, not daring to let go of the hand that clutched his so desperately. She opened herself to him then, eyes closed as he slid between her legs, and paused. His free hand cupped her face, waiting. "Look at me, Ellette," his voice, husky with emotion, was little more than a breath against her skin. "I love you."

"I love you, Rand," she choked out in response. He held her face, gently, eyes locked on hers. Only when he managed a trembling smile did he lean in to kiss her, abandoning himself to the pleasure of their bodies joining.

She'd known lust, she'd known sex, and she'd been used, but this was something entirely different. This was what she'd heard about, what others had sought out in their desires. Yet, as her pulse thundered in her ears and Rand's lips caressed her neck, pausing to tell her how much he loved her, over and over again, she knew this was something more. Surely not everyone knew such love, felt so completely joined to another.

Their passions peaked, and she cried out despite herself. He stilled himself then, his breath ragged as he searched her face. "Are you alright?"

"Yes... better than alright," she laughed.

He smiled and kissed her before pulling her into his arms, cradling her against him. Bodies still intertwined, she closed her eyes, cocooned in his warmth. The intensity of their union fading, all energy drained from her. In the comfort of his embrace, her consciousness slipped into dream.