Author's Note: For Sarah Clack, who wanted to see the wedding vows reflected in a scene. It's kind of loose but I hope it serves!
3
Victoria was sitting at the vanity brushing her hair when Victor came into their bedroom. He'd long since changed from his dinner clothes into pajamas. It was quite late, and he'd been reading in their small sitting room before bedtime. Victoria had spent her evening embroidering before retiring to prepare for bed. The bedroom was dim, lit only by the glow of a small lamp on the vanity.
Victoria turned to smile at him in greeting before turning back to her reflection, running her stiff-bristled brush through her hair again and again. She had an almost meditative look on her face. Perhaps she was counting strokes. After removing his dressing gown, Victor stood by the end of the bed and watched her.
She'd already undressed. Over her combinations she'd pulled on a light silk robe. The combinations looked new, ruffled and lacy and nearly sheer. He could see it all in detail, as well as the way they fit the contours of her body, in the mirror. Victoria had not tied her robe closed.
He watched as she began to braid her hair. Carefully she parted it down the middle, sweeping a cascade of soft, wavy hair over each shoulder. Victor's fingers almost twitched with a desire to run that hair through his hands, to put his face to it. Victoria had a lot of hair—it was thick and came down almost to her waist. But her fingers were deft and quick and soon she had two loose braids, one over each shoulder. She secured them with silk ribbons from a little box on the vanity.
When she'd finished, he came up behind her and met her gaze in the mirror. Then, slowly, giving her time to protest if she wanted to, he slid the robe off her shoulders. But Victoria did not protest. Instead she leaned back into him, letting the back of her head rest against his middle. So he slipped the straps of her combinations down, as well, leaving her shoulders bare.
Gently he traced the very tips of his fingers over her shoulders and up her neck, then back down her upper arms to her inner elbows. Just the very lightest, skimming touch, just a whisper against her skin. Almost immediately Victoria's eyes closed. He could see goosebumps rising where he'd touched. When he traced up her neck again she let her head fall forward a little. So he ran his fingertips down her back, across her bare shoulderblades. He could hear her breath quickening. Smiling to himself he knelt behind her and put his mouth to the back of her neck.
Victoria gasped. He felt a little shudder run through her. Slowly, using his teeth and tongue as well as his lips, he kissed along one shoulder and then the other. He slid his hands around to her front, cupping her bosoms. Victoria wriggled a little to free herself from her robe. Victor felt her hands on top of his, her palms hot and soft. Even as he fondled her she was stroking and massaging his hands, up to his wrists and forearms and back again.
To his slight disappointment Victoria gently pulled his hands away from her. In the mirror, when he happened a glance, he could see the outline of her breasts and nipples beneath the silk. Slowly, Victoria raised one of his hands to her lips. Her mouth, so small and soft and warm, pressed lovingly against his palm. Victor closed his eyes and put his face to her hair, nuzzling at her. He felt her give each of his fingertips a lingering kiss. Then she repeated the process with his other hand.
At last she turned around on the stool to face him. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes had that dark, amorous look he'd come to recognize very well. Victor actually had to look up at her a little, kneeling before her like this. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his, her arms sliding around his neck. She kissed him deeply, her tongue tracing over his lips. For the briefest moment she let her tongue touch his. It felt as though she was drinking of him, almost, and for some reason the thought amplified the sensation and made him a little dizzy.
As they kissed, Victor let his hands travel down to her thighs. These combinations were short and her legs were mostly bare. Again he used that light, meandering touch as he stroked down each thigh to her knees, and then down to her ankles, and then back up again. Victoria broke their kiss and let her forehead fall to his shoulder, breathing hard. Her hands were clutching at the back of his neck.
Victoria had shifted so that she was sitting on the very edge of the stool, and her knees had fallen open so that he could kneel between them. As she began to drop light but insistent kisses on his neck and jaw, he slid his palms under her thighs and pulled her even closer. Without any urging she wrapped her legs about him, her arms still around his neck.
Please don't let me fall over, he prayed silently. Then, in as fluid a movement as he could manage, he got to his feet, lifting Victoria with him.
"Oh!" she cried in surprise at finding herself hoisted. Her legs tightened around his waist and her hands grasped at his shoulders. Victor grunted at finding her a little heavier than he expected. He held her bottom in a firm grip. Even so he could feel her slipping a little. Luckily he hadn't far to go—the bed was only a few steps away.
The glow from the lamp did not cast itself very far. The bed was mostly shadows. But he didn't need light to find Victoria in the semi darkness. Her warmth and his knowledge of her lit his way just fine. He set her on the edge of the bed and swiftly undressed. Victoria followed his lead, tugging at her laces and buttons until she could shimmy out of her underclothes.
He climbed onto the bed to join her. In the space of a heartbeat he slid inside of her. Victor moaned, low and quiet. She felt exquisite, enveloping him in warmth. Her arms soft about him, hot palms pressed against his back. Her legs bent at the knee on either side of him, an angle perfect for drawing him in completely.
At first he tried to hold himself in check, to move slowly, but it didn't last. Every thrust went deep and soon he was also going hard, as hard as he dared. Victoria met each of his movements, making a most erotic little sound with each one, like a cry and a gasp, which aroused him further.
As he neared the crisis he started to murmur to her. "Oh Victoria, oh dear, are you mine?" he managed between gasps.
"I'm yours," she assured him, pulling him close. She moaned just a little, and asked through it, "Are you mine, Victor?"
"Yes," he gasped, as he neared the peak. "Oh yes, I am yours..."
He barely finished his words before the blaze of pleasure overtook him. He could feel Victoria getting close. Her hips kept moving, rhythmic and rolling as a wave, pulling him along with her. Soon she marched her back with surprising force, almost bucking him off. He managed one more thrust, and he felt her finish, all warmth and a tremble.
Awash with pleasure, almost dumb with it, Victor held Victoria's face in his hands. Smiling, she did the same to him. At the same moment they pulled each other close for another lingering, deep-drinking kiss.
Their wedding rings caught what little light the lamp threw, and glinted in the darkness.