Maxon's kisses stared off sweet and slow. I could feel his fingertips trailing down to my hips, beneath the waistband of my underwear.

In true Maxon-style, he paused and looked up at me intently, as if he was asking me if what he was doing was okay. I shakily nodded my head, and he turned back to my underwear.

Moments passed and nothing happened. I wiggled my hips;he didn't move an inch. "Maxon, if you fell asleep, so help me God I wi-"

"I'm not asleep, I'm just trying to figure out what the best approach is."

I sighed. "Christ, Maxon."

"What?"

"You choose now of all times to become overly analytical of your bedroom guerrilla tactics?"

He sat back on his haunches and laughed as I pushed myself up into a half sitting position. "Bedroom guerrilla tactics?"

"Yeah. You kind of ruined the moment." I huffed.

"I did?"

"Yes, I was feeling bold."

Maxon laughed and kneeled in front of me so we were practically nose to nose. "America, you are nothing but bold. You are a walking rebellion with red hair."

My stomach warmed. Me? Bold? I didn't buy it. During the Selection, I hid my discomfort with my body, my feelings behind fancy gowns and poorly thought out choices that pissed off the wrong people. I was novelty, not demure like Kriss, not sexy like Celeste. I was nothing but an ill-tempered, red head with crazy ideas and a pretty dress. And now that Maxon had me and only me, I was terribly worried that I would disappoint him.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Maxon touched my cheek. "America, I love you. I love everything about you. You wouldn't be here if I wasn't absolutely and irrevocably head over heels for you."

I buried my face in my hands. "I know. I'm just a huge mess."

He laughed and kissed me. "It's okay. I'm rather fond of messes." I smiled back at him, grateful for him, to him. After a moment or two of looking in each other's eyes, Maxon exaggeratedly looked between my legs. "And now for my plan of attack."

I laughed and leaned back on my arms. "And what might that be, King Maxon."

"Full force." He got on top of me and kissed me fiercely, his hand gently fondling my breast. I moaned in his mouth and he pulled away, gently trailing his kisses down my stomach until he reached my hips. "Ah, my old nemesis," Maxon said, gently tugging on my waistband. I almost rolled my eyes, but then Maxon grasped my underwear with both hands and ripped them apart in one swift move. My stomach clenched in excitement.

Eventually, Maxon had found his way to the bed. He touched me gently, teasing me, allowing me to feel more comfortable.

I helped him remove his shirt, and the breeze caught it. It landed on the pier, one arm dangling in the water. I almost stopped him to retrieve it, but he caught me in a kiss, dipping me back down onto the bed.

Kneeling above me, in the candlelight and the glow of the moon, Maxon looked like a celestial God. The wind tousled his blonde hair, entwining it with the stars. He lowered his trousers, allowing his manhood to spill out. I could feel his hardness between my legs. My stomach lurched. This was it.

Maxon lowered his lips to mine. "Are you ready, America?"

In that single moment, and in the way he said my name, I knew that things would never be the same. But I wasn't scared. Instead, I had a moment of clarification. My future was in the hands of my Maxon, my husband, and I wouldn't change it for the world.

"Yes," I whispered, my lips brushing on his ear lobe.

Maxon pressed his forehead to mine, and we locked our gazes. Below, I could feel his hardness pressing against me, then into me.

It wasn't painful, like I had heard it would be so many times before. Instead, the feeling of him inside me was warm and liberating. He pushed his full length in and paused. "Does it hurt?"

It didn't. Surprisingly, it was quite the contrary. Instead of responding, I rocked my hips toward his, and Maxon responded with a deep groan. I continued this motion until he began following suit. Maxon leaned back in his knees, driving himself deeper inside me. With each thrust, I could feel myself teetering over the point of no return.

And then it hit me. I bit my lip to keep from moaning out loud, and my vision quickly tunneled through the pleasure. As the throes of passion slowly came to an end, Maxon bent over to kiss my lips. "It's okay, my love," he whispered, thrusting into me a couple more times before allowing himself to release on my belly.

Maxon and I lay there under the stars for a while. He held me, the sound of water lapping up against the pier was a soft lullaby. Maxon's hand gently fondling my breast was the only thing keeping me awake.

"That was amazing," he said, kissing the top of my head.

"I know," I replied, snuggling closer to him. "It's a shame about the lingerie though."

Maxon glanced over at the ripped scraps of fabric littering the pier. "Well, they shouldn't have made them so difficult to remove."

"Still. What a waste of lace." Maxon chuckled. "Don't tell Mary what you did. She'll have your head on a silver platter."

Maxon rolled over and kissed me. "But it was so worth it."