He could hardly believe what was happening. Not only did he have her consent, she was the one leading the way. He knew that her behavior in that moment wasn't license to do as he wished with her; rather, it was a signal that he had to be just that much more careful. For all he knew, she could be acting like this because she thought it was what he expected, not because she wanted what it would lead to.

She set the candle on the top of her dresser and turned to find Sam standing in the doorway. He'd taken off his jacket and was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and the remnants of his bow tie still around his neck. He had a small smile on his face, but she could tell that it didn't reach his eyes.

"Sweetie, what is it?" she asked.

"Beth, I-I don't…I want you to do this because you want to, not because you think that I expect it. You're what's important to me. If you don't want…"

She laid a hand on his arm. "Sam, stop. I'm not as fragile as you seem to think I am. I'm not going to break if you decide to kiss me a little harder or pull me into your arms a little rougher than you normally do. I want this just as much as you do. Now," she said as she reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, "are you going to help me or do I have to do this by myself?"

He brought one hand up to still hers and he lightly stroked her cheek with the back of the other. "I never thought you were fragile, love. You're stronger and more solid than anyone I've ever met. I've been so gentle with you because I thought that's what you needed after everything you've been through. I-I was afraid…afraid that if I was rough with you that," his voice caught slightly and she searched his face to understand what he was feeling, "that you'd…"

"That'd I'd think you were the same as the guy that raped me? Oh, Sam...," she brought one hand up to cup his cheek, "I could never think that, never. You care about what I'm feeling; you make sure that I'm comfortable whenever we're together. No matter what we're doing, you worry about me. That's something he never did. Besides," she said softly, "I love you, and I know that you love me. That's why I was crying the way I was when you were taking care of me. I have nothing left, Sam. Everything's out there in plain sight." Seeing the confused look on his face, she continued. "I was crying so hard because I felt the last wall inside me fall away, a wall I didn't even know was there. I have nothing to hide behind anymore." She took one of his hands and placed it on her chest. "It's yours, Sam. I'm yours. Completely, entirely."

He nearly pulled back at the electric sensation he felt when she placed his hand over her heart. Looking into her eyes, he understood what she'd meant. Before tonight, he could see her feelings in her eyes, but it was if he was seeing them through some kind of hazy translucent filter. Now the filter had been pulled away and he was able to see everything in stark, minute detail. He saw how much she loved him, her nervousness and desire. He was seeing things that he never had before and was speechless.

Slowly, never breaking contact, he brought his hand up to the side of her face. She could barely feel his whisper-light touch on her jawline as he slipped his other arm around her waist and pulled her into him. She felt his hand drift back from her face to the back of her head and into her hair. "Mine," she barely heard him whisper before they kissed, "All mine."

He kissed her like never before; controlling, firm, and possessive. He couldn't believe how she was responding to him. She clung to him with an iron grip as if he was the only stable thing that existed and yet her mouth was so soft and passive beneath his. He was pleasantly surprised and found that this duality in her turned him on. Breaking the kiss gently, he saw that her eyes fairly glittered in the candlelight.

"I didn't break, did I, sweetheart?" she said with a small smile.

"No, you didn't, precious," he returned her smile.

She felt his hand begin to steal its way up her back to the top of her dress and wondered if he could sense her apprehension. She dropped her eyes, afraid that he'd see her nervousness and inexperience. He knew immediately that there was something wrong and touched the side of her face. This was something you didn't force.

"Hey, you OK? We don't have to, you know. It's entirely up to you, Beth. I want you to be comfortable with whatever happens," he said gently.

"I-I'm just…I don't know..."

"Nervous? I am, too. I want to make this special for you, for both of us."

"It's not just that, it's…I've…I've never…"

"Never?"

"Not since…"

He knew then that this was one time that, no matter what she said, he'd treat her as if the slightest tap would cause her to shatter. She'd never been shown love and affection, not like this, and he knew she was scared. She had only known violence before now, and he was determined that she would only know gentleness from that moment on. He slipped his finger under her chin to tip her face up to his and he could see the nervousness and the slightest hint of tears in her eyes. He gave her a soft, tender kiss, like so many that they'd shared before. He needed to do this, to let her know that she was safe, that he wouldn't hurt her the way she'd been before.

"You're in charge, little one. You tell me if I'm hurting you or if I'm making you uncomfortable, even the least little bit, and I'll stop right then. You call the shots."

The apprehension that had clouded her face fled as he said that. Before now, what she wanted was never considered, but she knew that would never be the case again. With a small smile, she reached behind her and began to pull at the zipper at the back of her dress. As he kissed her forehead, she felt one of his hands come around hers and heard him whisper, "May I?" Releasing the pull, she brought up her hands to continue unbuttoning his shirt as he slowly worked the zipper open. She slipped her hands up his torso as she began to map the unfamiliar territory of his body for the first time.

She felt his fingers trace up her spine once he'd finished the zipper. "Soft, so soft," he said in a quiet, husky whisper that gave her chills. His hands gave a slight, obvious tug at the straps of her dress to try to slip them off her arms in order to remove the dress. She looked into his face and could see the question in his eyes, which she answered by stepping back from him and pulling her arms back slightly, allowing the dress to fall into a pool of black fabric surrounding her feet.