And so came the day, or rather so came what comes after the charade and pretty lying faces. The wedding has passed, the ceremony for everyone to see is over, the sharing of sake and the need to not under any circumstance lose face has passed.
Now there is only one man, one woman, one room.
Tomorrow the act must be up again, scrutiny, they'll smell it on her, him on her so the consummating of the bond must happen this night.
Despite herself she feels her heartbeat quicken, not so much because of her virgin nature or nervousness over the impending carnality with this man she does not know, may never know. No, for the first time she'll be allowed to explore as she wants, and she'll ask the outrageous, knowing his nature.
She spares a glance to her newlywed spouse and finds, just like most other times, unwilling to look away. The man is pretty, far prettier than she and stripped of his armour he looks no less intimidating as he did before.
What will he think of her proposition? His eyes tell her nothing of what he thinks, only that he is indeed thinking, always.
"Who starts then?" the sound break the silence as stone on glass and she moves to the lone bedding and sits, waiting, presenting, expectant.
He moves as well, albeit with more grace, though she expects no less from him at this time as any. Briefly she wonders if he moves because he thinks he must, or if he wants to.
Face to face at last and oh so close she decides it's time to ask, now or never. It's audacious and it makes her tremble ever so slightly, with excitement that makes the mouth dry.
Who will make the first move? Breaths mingle with even intervals, mix and then become breath again, she isn't moving and he isn't either.
"How familiar are you with this subject?" searching eyes lock onto his firm ones and it's obvious she isn't asking out of curiosity or jealousy as most other women might, no, she wants something with that sentence, an ulterior motive lurks in her eyes. She hopes he'll bite anyways despite the fact that they both know he isn't so easily fooled he doesn't see that glint.
"What of it?" is the answer she gets and she knows it is the only one she'll receive.
"I was thinking" she starts, knowing to tread carefully "that considering your many, advantages" and there are many indeed, though she knows not how inclined he is to see them "I would like to ask but a single favour of you, at this time."
He seems apprehensive at this, she truly doesn't blame him.
And yet he takes the bait "what is that favour?"
She takes a single, steadying breath before continuing "It is to just this once, this being the first, be the one that takes the lead in this."
Silence falls upon the room, as if even the volume of breathing has dropped and it helps in letting the sounds of the night just outside that screen door to come in.
Once again she can't tell, not even a single indication of what he might say is revealed so she must wait until he speaks, though he might never.
The faint light of the moon is enough to see for their youkai eyes despite leaving most of the room in shadow.
After only a moment, he inclines his head and sits back, awaiting her response.
At first she can do nothing, astonished she can only stare her mind in a complete state of incredulousness, dumbfounded that he actually agreed. That he would allow such a thing.
Then her consciousness finally kicks into gear and she realizes that indeed, before her sits her newlywed spouse and husband, Lord and commander of the Inuyoukai of the west, completely hers for the taking and at the mercy of her every whim. Though just for tonight.
Shivers run down her spine as her pupils dilate, this is excitement she never knew she could feel. Suddenly she is hit with the realization that she isn't as well versed in this as she'd like, and her clumsiness will no doubt show and it makes her doubt for only a second though not more, this is a chance she'll never pass up on.
Slowly she reaches out to touch the fabric that encases his flesh, runs her lithe fingers down the seam crossing his chest. Tucking the thin yet powerful appendages under the crease she runs them up again until she reaches his neck.
She repeats this process with every knot, fold and seam she can find until she's satisfied she knows where to begin when the time comes to remove the clothing from him.
Silk rustles as she moves to sit straddling his crossed legs, she needs to be closer to explore thoroughly. Then, resting her bowed head just below his chin, she stops all movement.
"Suddenly had a change of heart?" he asks and it's hard to tell if it's mockery or sincerity, she is close enough to feel the rumble, and thanks to her heightened sight even see it to some degree as it emanates from his chest.
"No" she says, picking up a lean, milky white hand adorned with markings "I was simply at a loss for where to begin" she traces the markings with feather light touch and spreads his fingers while gazing at them with a strange sense of fascination "there are so many options after all."
Deciding that it'll be far more fun to do the exploring without the fabric covering her line of sight she starts gently pulling at a the knot that'll free him of the first layer of clothing.
Slowly the knot unravels and she makes sure to lay the strings down carefully before tucking her fingers under the final knot and pulling ever so slightly, relishing in the sound the fine silk makes as she pulls.
Once again she folds the thin digits under the fabric that makes up the outermost layer and with outmost patience slides it down his firm shoulders to his muscular arms and finally over his hands freeing him of the garment altogether.
The whole process is excruciatingly slow and now she'll repeat it again and again until not a single string of silk is left on him. If he is annoyed by this he makes no move to show it.
She takes much delight in listening to his heartbeat echo in the cavity of his well-toned chest as she reaches behind him to undo the obi, taking great care in folding it neatly as it loosens from his waist.
As she places the obi on the floor he speaks, it's deep, low voice "why are you moving so slowly?" and she can almost swear there is a hint of actual curiosity in there somewhere.
Never stopping her hands as she starts with his kimono she answers, reminiscent "mother said once, that intimacy is a rare gift and should be unwrapped accordingly" she is so focused on her task she misses him cock an eyebrow "though personally I've always been for taking my time when given the chance."
Now free of any visual obstacles she leans back to observe her work with a contented smirk for a moment. Ah yes, his white skin really almost glows in the faint light and she almost finds herself jealous of the man, now her man, for having a better complexion than her.
Then again, if she herself was pretty she doubts she'd appreciate the apparition that is him so much.
Indeed, she knows she's not pretty in the common sense of the word. She lacks most of those qualities.
Where pretty women's eyes are large, deer ones hers are small and sleepy. Where gorgeous women's hair is long and silken hers is cropped short and whisks wildly in every direction. Where beautiful women's skins are lustrous ivory hers is tanned with summer sun and thick from hunting and fighting, not to mention adorned with a fair collection of scars. Where sweet women's lips are plump and pouty hers are small and thin.
The list goes on and on but she doesn't fret. She never has. The least now when all those qualities that makes a partner a joy on the eyes are found on the one before her.
This way she'll never have the need to stare herself in the mirror as she's seen so many, stupid, ladies do because she'll stare at another face and never will she be questioned or reprimanded for it.
And she's never given any care for her appearance anyways, but that doesn't mean she hasn't the mind to appreciate beauty.
Long silken strands, porcelain skin, thin brows and long lashes. She has the urge to trace these features and drag her fingers through those silver locks but reminds herself it's yet time for that.
Full lips, long neck and a body that screams of battles long since won, she makes a point of remembering each feature well, who knows if he'll ever spend the night with her again, after all, she just can't fathom him having such an. . . appetite.
