Chapter Twenty-Nine

Warning: This chapter is not meant for kiddies…;) It contains graphic sex between two consenting adults, so if you're not old enough (or mature enough) to read this, turn back now!

Michaela woke alone, her skin tingling, and her body trembling. She opened her eyes, and she realized that the room was dim. She looked toward the window and a blue haze sat behind it. It had to have been late evening now. She sat up and glanced toward the fireplace. Sully was standing there, his hands resting against the marble of the hearth, his bare torso illuminated by the firelight. Her eyes gazed longingly over his chiseled, tanned upper body. She wondered for a moment if she'd slept through her wedding night, but when she saw the clock over the mantle, it was only eight o'clock. She smiled a little, and she stood up. She felt the dress desperately clinging to her body, and suddenly, it felt like a hot weight that she needed to get out of.

Sully heard the soft rustling of her dress, and he turned around, still wearing his suit pants. His eyes twinkled happily when he saw his bride, her hair out of sorts from their nap, her skin flushed red, and her eyes glowing happily through her tired features.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked, her voice thick with innocence. Sully smiled and walked across the room toward her.

"Just a few minutes. Ya were sleepin' so peacefully. I didn't wanna wake ya."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Neither did I," he said with a sheepish grin. "But it's all right. You feelin' okay?"

"I feel wonderful," she replied. "Wonderful." Sully smiled and took her hand. "Sully?"

"Dance with me," he whispered. Michaela beamed, and she followed him over to stand in front of the glowing fireplace. She sighed as he slowly folded her into his arms. They danced together, and as they danced, their souls became one. Sully looked down into her eyes, and now, Michaela saw the anxiety that he was dealing with. She swallowed hard as his trembling hands moved down her shoulders and arms. Suddenly, neither one of them felt brave, and they felt awkward.

"Sully," she said with a hesitant smile. He looked into her eyes.

"Maybe we're both gonna have to…" he leaned in to kiss her softly, and she trembled against him, "help each other through it." She nodded against him, and their bodies pressed together, closer than they had ever been. Their lips met in a quivering, unbalanced kiss. He pulled her closer, his hands moving around her body to start unlacing the back of her dress. She felt his lips on her neck, his tongue teasing her flesh. She gasped as his fumbling caused him to tug at her corset strings. "Did I hurt ya?" She blushed and shook her head.

"No. I…my corset's just underneath."

"Why'd ya wear it?" he asked, moving to stand behind her to get a better look at the contraption he was getting her out of. "Ya look perfect without it." He took the opportunity to lean up to kiss the exposed skin on her back. She closed her eyes, feeling her heart thumping faster in her chest.

"My…sisters," she said, finding it hard to really pull words together to form a sentence. "Insisted." He managed to unlace enough of the back of her dress to watch it fall from her torso. It pooled around at her hips, and he tugged on it and watched it float to the floor. His next trial was the corset. He began to gently loosen the strings, and Michaela felt like she could breathe again. The painful contraption took a while to get loose, but soon, he was peeling it from her and watching her flesh turn back to its normal color.

"You're free now," he promised. And she felt free. She wanted him to make her feel things she'd only dreamed about. She wanted to know why so many married people did this so often, and why so many people seemed to enjoy it, even if they didn't like to publicly discuss it. She knew how she was feeling now was something more profound that she'd ever felt, but she couldn't help but wonder what was to come next. She felt blind.

His hands moved over her bare back, and she closed her eyes, leaning her back against his chest. His hands moved around to her soft, flat belly and he felt her shudder. Her head lulled back to rest upon his shoulder, and they stood in front of the flames, feeling their bodies connecting, flesh-to-flesh for the first time. He wanted to touch her. He wanted a lot of things, but he knew he needed to be patient. He knew enough about life to know that this would be a lot more uncomfortable for her than for him, so he couldn't be greedy. He felt such deep worry for her as he touched her. They were both new to this, but she was the one that he needed to protect. She was the one that he needed to be careful with. He knew she was strong. She wouldn't break. But, he had to control himself. He couldn't hurt her.

His mouth found the nape of her neck, and she moaned as his hand traveled up her front, resting just below her breast. She felt her body reacting in ways she never imagined. Her skin withered under his hand for a moment as she adjusted to his touch. She relaxed, and she felt his hands move to rest at her hips. She bit her bottom lip, and she slowly turned around in his arms. His eyes stayed focused on her until she was ready. He didn't want to embarrass her. He wanted to show her his love and respect. He pulled her tight to him, her breasts against his chest. She closed her eyes and rested her head upon his chest. She was really trembling now, and he gave her a soft, slow kiss upon her shoulder.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"I don't want to be," she whispered coyly. "I love you, Sully. I want to make you happy."

"I am happy because of you. You trust me?"

"Of course I do. I'm not sure if I trust myself." Sully chuckled into her hair. She looked up into his eyes, and she knew he'd never intentionally hurt her. However, she was certain that this night would hurt. It would hurt, but it would be worth it, and the days and nights to come would get better. Her sisters had told her this much, though she wasn't sure what to believe and what not to believe.

"We'll take our time. I promise. I don't want ya doin' anything you're not comfortable with."

"I'm comfortable with you," she whispered. "My heart and my soul are. My body needs time."

"I know. I'll take care of you." He lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the bed. She inhaled slowly, each step taking her closer to becoming one with him, body and soul. He placed her down onto the bed, and she fought the urge to cover herself. His eyes bore into hers, and she smiled past her embarrassment.

"You can look," she said softly. She closed her eyes, but he caressed her cheek.

"Open your eyes," he urged. When she did, she found him smiling down at her. "You're beautiful." Michaela shook her head. She felt like she was under the microscope for the first time in her life, and she didn't know what he'd think of her. But he was smiling. She was still uncertain.

"You don't have to…"
"I'd never lie to ya." He was fighting his eagerness every step of the way. He was ready for more, but she obviously needed time to adjust to the feeling of his body appreciating hers. He smiled and helped her with her stockings. His fingers caressed her skin as he pulled them down, and she sucked in a sharp breath as he pressed a kiss in the center of her foot. She sat up a little, and he stepped out of the way. When she stood, her hands reached out to touch his chest. He stood before her, a nervous wreck. He was suddenly filled with worry. He didn't know what she was expecting, and he suddenly realized that he was under a lot of pressure. What if he didn't satisfy her? What if he didn't make the experience wonderful for her?

"Sully? Are you…"

"I'm fine," he said hoarsely. Suddenly, her concerns for herself flew out the window, and she framed Sully's face with her hands.

"We're both nervous. Like you said," she whispered against his lips, "we'll take it slow." Sully nodded finally, and he looked down at her.

"You ready?" She took a deep breath.

"Are you?" Without words, they stripped the rest of their clothing off and kicked it aside. They stood apart just a little, and they curiously gazed at each other's bodies. Sully felt self-conscious, wondering if he was what she had expected. Michaela tensed up when she saw him. She hadn't known what to expect from him. He was beautiful; everything she'd dreamed about and more. Much more. She suddenly wondered if this was going to be physically possible.

He reached out for her, and she stepped forward, his mouth came crushing down on hers. It was an eager kiss, which she responded to fully, and she pulled herself closer to him, feeling him against her thigh. She gasped, and she felt him shudder into her mouth. She didn't know what to do now.

Feeling her against him was becoming too much, and he felt like he was going to explode. He stepped back a little, and Michaela looked surprised.

"Sully? I…I'm sorry," she said, her face becoming red with embarrassment.

"No, no," he said quickly. "I, uh, I don't know if it's…" He was stumbling all over his words, and Michaela found it endearing. But, somehow, she knew not to laugh. She knew that the state he was in right now was something mirroring how she was feeling inside. Every touch, every kiss and every breath sent new feelings to her very core. His desire, obviously, was much more visually apparent.

"Did I do something wrong?" She felt foolish. How would he know? Neither one of them had the faintest idea of what they were doing, though their bodies were reacting in such a way that it all felt so right.

"C'mere," he whispered. She stepped back toward him, her feet feeling heavy. Every feeling and sensation had gone straight to her center. She wasn't sure if had the ability to move, but she managed.

"Are you sure?" her body was flushing again. He nodded.

"Yes. Come…come here." He held his hand out to her, and she apprehensively took it into hers. She stepped forward nervously, and their bodies pressed together. She didn't feel embarrassed anymore, but she had seen what she did to him. She'd seen his passion and his anxiety, and she knew that she'd caused it. She wanted to make love with him. She wanted him to make love to her. They pulled each other close, and Sully's mouth covered hers. Her hand trailed down his chest and back as he began to walk blindly across the room. He didn't know where he was going, but he didn't care. Her hand moved further, further, and by accident, she touched him. Her hand felt like fire, and his flesh burned with desire. He gasped into her mouth, and she pulled away. Before she could apologize, his hands buried themselves in her hair, kissing her with more passion than before. Her body eagerly responded in kind, and she writhed against him.

"Sully," she moaned as his hands moved down her back, further down, cupping her and pulling her against him. This elicited a moan from deep inside of her. She began to relax in his arms. She wanted this. She needed it. She could feel him straining against her. He certainly wanted it too.

Suddenly, her back hit the wall, and she moaned as his hands pushed into the wall, and his mouth explored hers. He was losing control, but she didn't mind. She wanted him to. She wanted him to show her what love…passionate love really felt like. She needed it.

"Oh," she moaned as his mouth moved down her throat and toward her chest. His free hand moved down the curve of her side and hip and toward its goal. She felt him touch her, and she tilted her head back, bit her lip and let him take her to a place she'd never been. She was soaring and falling at the same time. God, she was going to melt. "Sully!" This urged him on, and he picked her up into his arms. She looked into his eyes, and any reservations they had were gone. They were ready. This was it. Soon, there would be no turning back. Sully moaned as her arms wrapped around his neck, and her legs encircled his waist. She could feel him. "Sully…Oh, Sully." He tried to control himself, but her moans urged him forward. He knew she wanted him to do this, and his heart told him they wouldn't regret it.

He carefully moved across the room toward the bed. He laid her down, gazing at her passion-flushed form. Her legs were still wrapped around him, and she was breathing so hard that her body was working up a sweat. She was perfect. She was beautiful and so innocent.

"Michaela," he breathed, restraining himself again. Without a question, she answered with a nod.

"I love you," she breathed. "I trust you." His hands pressed into the mattress of the bed, and his mouth captured hers. He moaned as the pressure building up inside of him began to make his body tremble. He pushed at her a little, and she groaned into his mouth. He didn't want to hurt her, but her body was writhing against his, writhing for more.

The discomfort was growing for Michaela, but the passion was working up far more sensations. He was trying, he really was, and she was grateful. But, they were both clumsy. Her hand trembled as she reached between them. She touched him, and he groaned, burying his face in her neck. She closed her eyes and she felt him pulsating against her palm. She moaned softly as she apprehensively guided him in. He was on his way, and she let him go. She muffled her cries in his neck as he entered her, stretching and breaking her innocence. Her flesh burned, and she cried out, a tear trickling down her cheek. He was scared. He was inside of her, moving forward, sending a trail of fire along uncharted flesh.

"I hurt you," he trembled, watching her face as she tried to hide the pain. "Michaela…" He started to pull away, but she held him closer.

"Don't," she breathed, pressing her quivering lips against his. "Please, Sully. Love me." His body pressed against hers, and his fingers moved toward her face and trembled against her lips. She closed her eyes. "I trust you. I trust you." She closed her eyes as his mouth and tongue found her shoulder. He began to move gently inside of her, letting her adjust to him, and she writhed, crying out her frustration, her pain, her pleasure. She blindly kissed his chest, tasting his salty sweat. She cried out as his hand moved between them, pushing against the pulsating bundle of nerves that the air out of her lungs and left her gasping. His hand moved back, and crimson stained his fingers. He shook for a moment, and Michaela pulled him tightly against her.

"I…you're…" Her lips found his again, forgetting about the blood. It sent her heart racing. They were one. Her blood was now his, and they were family. "Michaela…" She didn't let him worry. She placed her hand over his heart. The pain was going away. She was adjusting. The pain, the blood, the tears, the sweat…it all mixed together, and pleasure overtook it all. Sully was still trembling, holding on for dear life, his hands gripping the bed sheets. Feeling her so tightly fitted around him made it hard to keep control. His pleasure had built so high, but he was afraid she was in pain. He wanted to make this right. He wanted to make her feel as good as he did right now. His thumb found her sensitive nerves again, and she cried out, arching her back as he loved her. He continued to move inside of her, and her eyes were closed so tightly that she wasn't sure they'd ever open again. She was reeling. She needed more. She called out his name, urging him onward.

He couldn't hold on any longer, and she could feel that. She held him tight as he began his final thrusts, emptying himself into her, calling out her name and pushing himself further than he'd gone before. They cried out together, holding each other tight. Their bodies relaxed, and Michaela felt a cramp in her toes. She hadn't realized she'd curled them so tightly, and now she felt complete. She felt their sweat mingling together. Her blood, her sweat, and her tears were a part of him now.

His head rested upon her chest, his hand tenderly cupping a breast. She felt his breath against her nipple, and closed her eyes, her body coming down from the natural high that Sully had taken her to. She couldn't believe it. She was a woman in every sense of the word now. After several minutes, he weakly lifted his head, and she looked into his eyes, smiling. His hair was pressed against his forehead, sweat-drenched. He was beautiful. He was everything.

He smiled down at her sheepishly, but he saw such adoration in her eyes. His hand moved to caress her thigh, and she let out a content sigh. She felt those feelings stir inside of her again almost immediately. Sully's hand reached his goal again, and he felt her desire. She closed her eyes, her head moving from side to side as he crawled down her. He slowly, torturously kissed his way down her body, starting with her neck, her breasts, her taut, dark nipples, her stomach, the soft patch between her legs…and finally, he tasted her. Her eyes flew open, her mouth gasped for breath, and she feared that she'd kick him by surprise. She swallowed hard, her hands gripping the bed sheets. He was magical.

Suddenly, every nerve in her body answered to his mouth, and she lay before him, breathing harder and harder, fighting the urge to fall off of the bed. She held herself steady, and he helped her by holding her. He wanted her to feel more pleasure. He wanted her to want more, and he wanted to spend forever learning and re-discovering her body.

Michaela's body surrendered to him as he continued to love her with his mouth. He drank the innocence of crimson; drank in her pleasure and her desire. He watched her, as he loved her with his mouth. She arched her back before collapsing, her breathing coming in quick, short gasps. She closed her eyes as Sully moved to lie at her side. She wanted to ask him where he learned it, but she supposed that it didn't really matter. What mattered was that it was something he'd wanted to share with her…just for her. Tears were in her eyes, and she touched his cheek.

"You," she breathed. "I…" She didn't quite know how to form the question.

"Poetry ain't the only thing I read," he whispered into her ear, nuzzling her neck. She blushed and bit her lip. He kissed her softly as their passion left them with an overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

They turned on their sides, staring at one another. They'd fulfilled months of desire, and here they were, lying in the aftermath of the unknown. His hand found hers, and their fingers laced together.

"You okay?"

"Yes. I think so," she breathed. A smile crossed her face. "I know so." She snuggled up against him, and they shared a tender kiss.

"When I was growin' up, someone once told me that some things ya read from a book, and the rest of it, ya gotta learn by doin'. I never thought…"

"Neither did I," she breathed. "Thank you, Sully. You made tonight…"

"We both did," he promised her. "You're more than I ever expected." Michaela grinned, and she let him kiss the sensitive spot on her neck. It drove her wild, but she loved it!

"May I tell you something?" she asked, her nose brushing against his. He smiled lovingly at her.

"You can tell me anything." She nodded, knowing it was true.

"I'm glad we didn't wait until August. I'm so happy, Sully. You being my husband is something more wonderful than I ever could have asked for. Thank you for…for being you." She yawned again and closed her eyes. He tenderly kissed her eyelids, her forehead and her lips again. His arms pulled her closer, and they fell asleep, wrapped up in one another. Before he drifted off, he heard her whisper, "Naevestoemose" He was stunned, but happily surprised at the same time. He softly kissed her lips, and as he was drifting off, he whispered:

"Naevestoemose."

Author's Note: "Naevestoemose" means my husband, and it also means, my wife. So we can conclude that when Michaela says it, she means "My husband," and when Sully says it, it means "My wife." According to the Cheyenne culture, once the woman and man are married, they become one person, and people do not differentiate between the two. Thanks to Jules for that!