Author's Note:

This chapter earns the M rating.

At her husband's invitation, Quistis stepped forward into the room and softly shut the door behind her. As she took in a breath that rattled its way down into her lungs, she glanced around the room, only to realize that it was incredibly dark. The decadent velvet curtains had been drawn shut, and the only illumination came from the crackling flames that burned in the hearth to her right.

Her eyes had yet to adjust to the lack of light, and she squinted in an attempt to make out the details of the room. A sofa sat just in front of the fireplace, and she could see Seifer's long legs stretched out before him. He had his arm draped over the back of the lounger, and from the way the fire lit up only half of his face, she surmised that he was looking in her general direction.

On the opposite side of the room, a wide door frame led to where she assumed the bed was. The reminder of what awaited her there in what was likely mere minutes, caused her to shiver in anticipation, though she wasn't entirely sure whether it was borne out of fear or something else.

Aside from the doorframe, she couldn't quite discern what else was in the room. Figuring it wasn't important and that she couldn't stall any longer, she shifted her gaze back to her husband's still form in front of the hearth. He had indeed been looking at her when she'd first walked into the room; he was now facing the fire and she could only see his profile.

Hesitantly, she made her way over to him. He never once looked up at her as she traipsed across the room, and she fiddled nervously with her fingers as she approached him. It wasn't until she stood just before him that he finally turned and met her gaze.

The warm blaze turned his normally bright, aquamarine eyes into a shade that was infinitely darker—closer to the color of the sky at twilight, when the vivid blue of the afternoon began to fade into a soft periwinkle that was tinged at the edges with navy. Not only was it a breathtakingly beautiful shade, but it was alluring, mysterious, and she felt like she was being pulled into their depths.

His sudden motion of setting something down beside him pulled Quistis out of her reverie, and she blinked before focusing her gaze on what he'd put down. A thick tome now rested on the couch next to him; he must've been reading.

Unsure of what else she could say to ease the awkward tension in the room, she cleared her throat and gestured to the book. "I didn't meant to interrupt you," she muttered.

Her voice came out hoarse and deeper than usual. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had something to drink, and she hoped that he didn't think she was trying to sound seductive. That had never been something she'd been good at—at least, not intentionally—and she most certainly wasn't ready for whatever might follow from that train of thought.

At her question, Seifer glanced over at the book before meeting her eyes again. In a voice equally as muted as hers, he replied, "You didn't. I was simply passing the time as I waited for you."

Quistis nodded, and in a bout of nervousness, pulled her robe tighter around her body. The motion caused his eyes to flicker down over her body, though he didn't say anything about her appearance. In one fluid motion, he rose to his feet and picked up the book before carrying it over to a taller, more ornate bookshelf than the one that sat in her own room. With a level of certainty that implied he knew where every volume belonged on those shelves, he returned the book to its rightful place before facing her again.

After leaning against the bookshelf, he crossed one ankle over the other, then crossed his arms over his chest. Silently, he inspected her from across the room. She shuffled in place under his scrutiny, feeling more incensed as each second passed without him saying anything to her.

Eventually, when she could take the silence no longer, she spat, "I am not a painting to be gawked at."

"I never said that you were," he responded, sounding perfectly calm, which only served to irritated Quistis more.

"You didn't have to. You've been standing there, staring at me, for the better part of the last few minutes. Are you ever going to say anything?"

"What would you like me to say, my dear, lovely wife?" he asked as he pushed off of the bookshelf and made his way over to a table that rested on the opposite end of the fireplace.

Frustrated, she threw her hands up before resting them on her hips. "I do not know! You were the one who wanted to 'get to know one another'. You asked me to come here and—"

She was interrupted by the faint clinking of glass, and the popping sound of a stopper being removed echoed throughout the room. Her train of thought interrupted, she called out, "What are you doing?"

The sound of liquid being poured was followed by Seifer setting down something heavy, and a few seconds later, he turned around with two small glasses in his hand. "Getting us something to drink. I'll be frank with you, dear, you sound like you need something a bit stronger than water at the moment."

Miffed, Quistis flicked her bangs out of her eyes and crossed her arms. "Are you trying to say that I seem tense?"

A short, dry laugh left him and he made his way over to her before holding out one of the glasses. "No. You don't seem tense, you are tense. I can practically feel your nerves on end from across the room. You're like a cat with its hackles raised. I'm not going to try and hold a conversation with you when you're like this."

Unsure of whether she should feel offended at his stark observation, or relieved that he was offering her a solution to her nervousness, she gingerly took the glass from him, being careful not to touch him for longer than necessary. She wasn't sure whether he noticed her hesitancy or not, but he didn't comment on it. He merely gestured to the couch behind her. After a moment, she followed his cue and sank down onto it, tucking her right leg underneath her.

Seifer followed suit and took a sip of his drink—brandy, from the smell of it. Quistis noted that it seemed like a rather long sip, and commented, "Are you rather fond of your drink, Marquess Almasy?"

After he swallowed, the corner of his lips curled up in amusement. "For starters, you're going to have to call me by my name eventually. And yes, I do enjoy a drink most nights before I get into bed. But you've no cause for worry, dearest. I'm by no means an addict."

"Will you stop calling me that?"

"Calling you what?"

"Dear, dearest; whatever name you seem to fancy at the moment. I may be your wife, but we are by no means familiar enough with each other for pet names," Quistis mumbled before taking a sip of her own drink.

The warm, headiness of the brandy curled around her tongue and as she swallowed it, she made a sound of approval that prompted Seifer to look over at her. He never responded to her reprimand, and instead, he changed the subject.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice wrapping around her like a warm embrace.

"I do. It's very strong, but it's smoother than I anticipated."

"The French know what they're doing," he agreed, lifting his glass to take another sip.

Her gaze flitted upwards to his face and she watched him swallow, noting the rise and fall of the bump in his throat. He'd tilted his head back to take a drink, and she was able to see more of the tanned skin of his throat than usual since it was unimpeded by his cravat. He had a prominent adam's apple, and the sight of it brought an unbidden vision of her running a finger over it, feeling the soft, forbidden expanse of his neck.

Catching herself in her own fantasy, she blinked rapidly before dropping her gaze to her own glass.

He'd been more than accommodating to her, all things considered. Not only did he let her make most of the decisions regarding the wedding's decor, but he'd also given her the space she'd very much needed when they'd first arrived at his townhouse earlier. He had no reason to be so kind to her; he'd had every right to dictate every part of the day, down to skipping the ceremony entirely. But he'd chosen to give her some semblance of a wedding celebration, and even now, he wasn't rushing her.

She knew she was being unnecessarily abrasive towards him, and with a sigh, she looked back up at him. He'd been staring at her, though she hadn't noticed, so when she glanced up, their eyes met. After a moment of hesitation, she said, "I'm sorry that I'm being so rude. I don't mean to. I'm just...I suppose I'm nervous, amongst other things."

"I don't blame you. It's been a long day. Hell, it's been a long few weeks," he agreed, before facing the fireplace.

A slight chuckle left her. "That it has," she whispered, studying his profile.

She supposed she was lucky. He wasn't old and decrepit, and to be quite honest, he was incredibly handsome. At least he didn't have warts. Aside from his snarkiness, which only made an appearance occasionally, he was rather amiable. Looking back on all of the other suitors she'd had to deal with, he was the only one who managed to engage her in a conversation that didn't bore her to tears. In fact, it was quite the opposite. On all of the occasions they'd been in each other's presence, life had been...exciting, different.

He was different.

It had taken this long for her to notice, but yes, he was indeed different. When she spoke, he actually listened to what she had to say. Not only that, but he responded without the filtering she knew some of the members of the ton used when they talked to her. He was genuine, real, and honest. Sometimes too honest, but she couldn't exactly fault him for that. Despite the fact that he was already engaged, he still followed protocol and married her when they'd been discovered.

That had surprised her.

He seemed like the type of person who disregarded rules, and did what he wanted to do—no matter the consequence. In fact, she'd already seen that firsthand. Granted, Zell had backed them into a corner in this particular situation, but he still could've gone through with his initial engagement.

Yet he hadn't. He'd chosen to break ties with Miss Caraway and marry her instead. Why? Why had he chosen her? He knew her reputation for turning down each and every suitor. He had to know what they'd said about her, that she was difficult and unsuited to make a fine wife. What were his reasons?

Gently, she set her glass down on the floor in front of the sofa. He glanced over at her, a silent question in his eyes. With a deep breath, she turned in her seat and faced him fully, prompting him to lean back so he could do the same.

"You said that you wanted us to get to know each other better, yes?" Quistis asked, awaiting his reply with bated breath.

"Yes…"

"If you meant that—"

He interrupted her and said, "I did. I mean everything I say."

"Good. In that case, may I ask you something?"

"Of course. You can always ask me anything you wish to know." With a dry laugh, he added, "You have that right now."

"But I do not want you to answer because you feel obligated to. I want you to answer honestly."

"My dearest wife, you'll learn quite quickly that I never feel obligated to do anything. But very well. I promise to answer as honestly as I can. Ask your question."

Quistis' lips twitched at "dearest wife", but she decided to let it slide this time, in lieu of more important matters. Suddenly nervous, she shifted in her seat. "Do you—I just—Damn it all. Why did you marry me?"

He raised his eyebrows, though whether it was because of her colorful language or her question, she wasn't sure. "I had to, which you are well aware of," he replied.

"Yes, I know the reason why we had to marry. But I wish to know why you agreed. You could've easily left me in the dust and continued on with your engagement to Miss Caraway."

"You know as well as I do that Zell would never have let that happen. If I hadn't agreed to marry you, he would've told your father himself, and society's rules dictate that a compromised woman must be made honest. I had to marry you."

"But if you truly cared for Miss Caraway, you could have married her still. Being a man of privilege in this society would've given you that right."

"Well, for one, I have no wish to meet your father at dawn for a duel. But mostly, I didn't wish to marry Miss Caraway. In fact, I didn't wish to marry at all."

"I can relate to that." Quistis' gaze flickered downwards before meeting his again. "Why didn't you want to marry Miss Caraway?"

"We didn't suit," he explained with a shrug. "Within ten minutes of being in her presence, I was already beginning to feel annoyed with her. I can't even begin to imagine how being married to her must be."

"Then why would you agree to marry me? It isn't as if you know me any better."

With a sharp exhalation, he rose to his feet and trekked back to the table across the room. He uncapped his decanter of brandy before pouring himself another glass. In one gulp, he downed its contents and brought the glass back down to the table in a rougher-than-necessary motion. He whirled around, and the sudden motion startled Quistis.

"Do you always ask so many questions?" He didn't sound angry, but he had lost his prior cordiality.

"When I want to know the answer to something, yes. I believe the pursuit of knowledge is a right we all have."

Seifer waved his hand in the air dismissively before bracing himself on the table behind him with his palms. "Why do you wish to know?"

"Why do I wish to know what your motives were for marrying me?"

"Yes. Tell me that, and I will answer your question."

"Tit-for-tat. Fair enough." Quistis rotated on the couch, swinging her legs down and planting her feet on the carpet. "I want to know whether you married me for only my looks, like all the other men wanted me for, or whether you...whether you actually…"

She trailed off, suddenly feeling like an insecure little girl for even feeling the need to ask him for clarification. If she actually said, "whether you married me because you actually liked me", he'd know that she harbored ridiculous dreams of marrying for love. This was reality, not a fairy tale, and people simply did not do that. If she said the words aloud, and his answer was what she dreaded it would be, it would mean that her worst nightmare had come true.

"Whether I...what?" Seifer asked softly, ambling across the room to stand just before her.

She had to crane her neck back to look up at him. "Whether you...married me because you actually enjoyed my company."

"That's not really what you wanted to ask me, is it?"

How could he possibly know that? A beat passed before she admitted, "No. It isn't."

"Well, then, go on. Ask me what you really wish to know." He continued to loom over her, making her equal parts flustered and anxious.

Her mouth was dry, and she snaked her tongue out to wet her lips. "I just...Did you marry me because you actually liked me?" she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut once the question left her and could never be retracted.

Silence was her immediate response, and she felt tears welling in her eyes at the lack of confirmation. Whether it was what she feared he'd say, or Hyne-forbid, the opposite, she needed him to say something.

When she felt the warmth of his skin on her hand, she jerked back in surprise before her eyes flew open. His expression was open and inviting, and when he wrapped his fingers around her hand, tugging slightly, she acquiesced and rose to her feet.

With an amount of tenderness that belied his normally brusque personality, he caressed her cheek as he stared into her eyes. "If I kiss you, will it offend you?"

"I wouldn't be offended, no, but I don't see what that has to do with you wanting to marry me."

"It's...part of the reason. Just trust me, and I'll explain afterwards," he murmured.

Quistis inspected his face, seeking any semblance of a lie in his expression. It was difficult to place anything other than open honesty in his eyes, so despite the lingering hesitancy she still felt, she nodded.

Slowly, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers ever so slightly, eliciting a faint gasp from her. Seemingly emboldened by her response, he cupped the back of her head and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. He slid his tongue into her mouth, and when it teased along the tip of hers, she trembled at the way it made her feel: breathless, and tight with anticipation.

Sooner than she would've thought, he pulled away and leaned back to look down into her eyes. After a second of trying to reorient herself, Quistis asked, "So you married me because you like kissing me?"

Seifer chuckled, low and sensual. "That's not quite the way I'd put it," he replied, before pulling her by the hand towards the inner part of the bedroom. "I married you because, despite how many women I've kissed before you, it has never felt quite like that."

Doubtful, she raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that one of those 'lines' you men use on women to make them swoon?"

Once they stood just before the bed, he faced her head-on. In a serious tone of voice, he said, "No, it isn't. I was telling the truth, Quistis. I'd be lying if I told you I never enjoyed kissing other women; I am a man. But from the few times we've spoken to each other, it's clear to me that there is something...more about you. Whether it's your sharp retorts or your lack of trepidation over sharing your rather unpopular opinions, something about you intrigues me.

"Every time we've seen each other, I am left wanting to discover more of what makes you who you are. You are so unlike any other woman in the ton that I have ever met, and that excites me."

His confession caused Quistis' breath to catch in her throat. Of all the things he could've said his reasons were, that hadn't been what she'd expected. He took a step towards her, and she had to crane her neck back slightly in order to continue meeting his gaze.

Again, he reached up and cradled her cheek. "The way that we come together when we kiss is simply an added bonus. And—" His hand traced her hairline to the base of her neck, and the featherlight touch caused her to shiver. "—I've wanted to see your hair down like this since the first moment I laid eyes on you."

Confused, she tried to pull away, feeling her insecurity morph into something more akin to anger. "So what you're telling me is that you did marry me for my beauty."

Seifer furrowed his eyebrows, letting his hands drop to his sides. "That's what you took away from all of that? For Hyne's sake, woman, I was trying to explain to you that that was only partially true."

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "It's only partially true that you're like all the other men who tried to ask for my hand?"

A sigh left him as he ran his hand down his face. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "Are all women this difficult?", before returning her glare in full-force. "I would have to be blind to say that you aren't beautiful. Unless you prefer me to tell you that you are some atrocious hag with wrinkles and a crooked nose, I'd rather tell the truth."

She opened her mouth to retort, but he held up his hand, cutting her off. "Let me finish, Quistis. Yes, you are beautiful, and yes, I am attracted to you in the physical sense. However, what I've been trying to tell you over the past few minutes, is that I also married you because you are the only woman I've ever cared to hold a conversation with. I won't lie to you and say that I've never been with a woman. But as soon as the sun rises the next morning, I want her out that door. I don't care to know her life story, or what pet she has at home, or even what her favorite color is."

Her gaze dropped to the floor when he finished speaking, and she fiddled with her fingers as she looked back up at him. "So what you're telling me...is that you want to know all those things about me?"

"Yes," he breathed with an exasperated sigh. "As infuriating as you can be, that is exactly what I am saying."

Astounded by his admission, and left reeling that she had finally found someone who cared about her for who she was, Quistis didn't know what to do. After inspecting the fibers of the rather plush rug that rested beneath their feet, she took a step towards Seifer, trying to show him that this time, it was her that was accepting him.

He watched her with hooded eyes that were colored darker by both uncertainty, and the simmering blaze of lust that currently lay dormant from their kiss earlier. When she stood just before him, she slipped her fingers into his, intertwining them before staring up into his eyes.

"I can't even begin to tell you how much that means to me," she whispered.

His only response was the clenching of his jaw, and hesitantly, she reached up to cradle it with her hand, running her palm across the slight stubble that hadn't been there this morning—or perhaps she'd been so distracted by everything else going on that she just hadn't noticed.

When she neared his chin, she traced the remaining edge of his jawline with her index finger, gradually making her way closer to his mouth. The second her fingernail grazed the corner of his lips, he let out a shaky breath through his nose as his eyes slid shut, and he tucked his face back into her palm.

"If you continue doing that, Quistis, I won't be able to hold back any longer," Seifer warned in a low voice. The sound of her name leaving his lips in such an intimate way made her shiver with need.

Matching his tone, she questioned, "Have you been holding back?"

He opened his eyes again, and the bright turquoise of his irises were ablaze with renewed desire. "With you...always."

Her lower abdomen tightened with want and anticipation, and she quietly said, "Perhaps I no longer want you to."

Faster than she'd seen him move before, he encircled her wrist with his fingers; the warmth from his touch seeped into her very being, and she gasped in surprise. After placing a kiss on the soft skin of her wrist, he murmured, "If you are sure, there is no coming back from this point. If you do not want this to happen, now is the time for you to say so."

His words caused a tremor of uncertainty to move through her body, but when she opened her mouth to say that perhaps they should stop here tonight, the words never left her. It was then that she realized that she didn't want things to stop. This was something she felt she had the right to enjoy—something that she deserved. Before today, she had been terrified that she'd be forever trapped in a loveless marriage, in which she would have to "endure" her wifely duties. With Seifer...that didn't seem to be the likely case. Why shouldn't she take advantage of the opportunity?

After all, like he'd said, it was her right now. She was his wife, and if it were at all possible to enjoy the part of marriage she'd been taught to dread, she felt like she had the best chance of that with him.

Holding her head high and looking straight into his eyes so he knew she understood the ramifications of her decision, she stated, "I don't want to stop."

He planted another kiss on her wrist before trailing down her arm. When he reached the juncture of her elbow, she could've sworn he licked the delicate skin there ever so softly, but the sensation was so brief and faint, that she wasn't entirely sure.

Without a word, he cupped her elbows and pulled her back with him towards the bed. When they were close enough that he could've easily sat down on the edge—in a motion that was so excruciatingly slow that she was sure he was trying to drive her crazy—he slid her thin robe off her shoulders, letting it pool on the ground.

Now, she stood before him in nothing more than her thin, peach chemise. Feeling suddenly shy, she clasped her hands together in front of her, nibbling on her lower lip as she felt his eyes on her. He must've sensed her unease, because he grasped her hands in his and gently stroked his fingers over her skin.

When her heart had calmed down a bit and it didn't feel like it was pounding in her chest, she squeezed his hands back and offered a hesitant smile. He returned it and sat down on the bed, pulling her closer so that she stood in between his legs. It was the first time she'd ever been this intimately close to a man. Sure, when they'd kissed in the past, she'd been pressed up against the length of his body, but somehow, this felt different.

It felt more personal, more emotional—as if they were the first two people in the world to connect in such a manner.

His hands slid up the length of her arms and moved to circle her waist. She placed her hands on top of his forearms, letting out a shaky breath as he pulled her down towards his face. Their lips met, and though it was rather chaste in comparison to the previous one, it still set her heart aflutter. It was akin to an unspoken promise, and her grip tightened on his arms in anticipation.

In response, he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms fully around her in a tight embrace. The kiss went on for long enough that Quistis had to pull back for air; her breathless gasp petered out in the space between them, and Seifer nuzzled her collarbone as she tried to ease her heart rate.

"Is kissing always like this?" she questioned, breathlessly.

He chuckled, and his breath tickled her chest as he murmured, "No...no it isn't."

He leaned back and pulled off the rest of his previously untied cravat before tossing it to the floor. Wasting no time, he shrugged out of his tailcoat and draped it over the short bench that rested at the end of the bed.

When Quistis looked at him in surprise, he replied, "Raijin would kill me for throwing all of my clothes onto the floor. He's rather nitpicky about the quality of my appearance."

She laughed and he smiled fondly, before adding, "You really should laugh more."

Her smile faded, though it was more out of astonishment than any sort of anger. While she was growing up, her mother constantly told her to smile less, that a man wouldn't want a wife who was flighty and ridiculous. As a result, by the time she was old enough to experience her first season, she couldn't remember the last time she'd truly smiled around anyone in the ton—Selphie being the exception.

Yet here Seifer was, encouraging her to smile more. She couldn't comprehend it, so instead of ruminating on it, she decided to ask. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why should I smile more? What would that change?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, looking genuinely confused as to why she'd asked such a question. After rising to his feet, he cupped her cheeks as he stared into her eyes with an intensity that, yet again, surprised her. "Why not? When you smile, you change. You are always beautiful, and I'm sure you've been told that time and time again. But there is something different about not only your face, but your...presence, when you smile." He stroked her cheekbones gently as a grin teased at the corner of his lips. "That is why you should do it more often."

Before she had a chance to respond, he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. This one was meant to make her swoon, to make everything else in the world fall away and leave nothing but the two of them standing here, in this room, together.

She ran her hands up his body, cursing the fact that he was still wearing so many more layers than she was. He must've caught on to her train of thought, because he let out a short laugh and leaned back to pull his shirt out from his waistband. When he peeled it off and tossed it aside, Quistis was taken aback by the sight that greeted her.

Hesitantly, she ran her hands down his strong chest, and the rippling muscles of his stomach. She should've seen it coming, considering how handsome and clearly in shape he was, but seeing the evidence for herself was a different thing altogether.

When her nails grazed his skin, he sucked in a sharp breath, causing her to glance up at him. Again, he circled her wrists in his hands, but this time he brought them back up to his chest. Beneath his skin, she could feel the pounding beat of his heart, and she looked up at him with a silent question in her eyes.

"That's what you do to me without even knowing it," he murmured.

Struck by a sudden bout of confidence, she stretched up on her toes and planted a chaste kiss along his jawline, paying extra attention to the way his heart rate increased. When he clenched his jaw in response, she rocked back onto her heels and in awe, commented, "You weren't lying."

"I would never," he replied. "Not about that, at least."

In slow motion, almost as if he were afraid to spook her, he lifted the hem of her chemise, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. Once it was off and she was completely exposed, he gently let it fall to the floor, raking his eyes over her body from head to toe. A few seconds passed without him saying a word, and Quistis shuffled in place, feeling uncomfortably bare.

Her movement prompted him to meet her gaze again, and in a tight voice, he asked, "Do you even fully understand what you do to me?"

She shook her head, unsure of where he was going with his question. He mirrored the action, as if in disbelief of her response, and reached out to grab her hand. After tugging her forward a bit, he placed her hand on his groin. He was hard and warm under her palm, and she glanced up at him in surprise.

"That is what you do to me. Do not ever feel like you are inferior to anyone else, or that you deserve anything less than the best."

Touched, tears welled in Quistis' eyes, and she nodded ever so slightly. "Thank you...Seifer."

His only response was to reach up and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, before cupping her cheek. "I'm going to let you control the pace we go at. Right now, I want nothing more than to throw you down on that bed and ravish you until morning, but that isn't what would be best, I'd imagine. What do you want, Quistis?"

Her gaze darted around the room with uncertainty—she wanted more, that much she knew, but how did she move forward, and where did she take it from here? What was normal in this situation? She was touched that he was willing to let her take control, but she'd never done this before.

He must've picked up on her inner turmoil because he ran his thumb along her jaw to grab her attention. When she looked at him, he added, "You're thinking of too many things at once. Start with what you feel. What does your body tell you that you want? That you need?"

She closed her eyes, shutting out the outside world and doing exactly as he asked: listening to her own body and its signals. Her abdomen was tight with anticipation, and there was a simmering heat in her core that desperately needed more of...him.

She opened her eyes again and looked straight into his before hooking her fingers in his waistband and pulling him closer. "You."

"Well, you have me, darling. Whatever will you do with me?" he asked with a crooked grin.

Slowly, she mirrored his expression and moved her fingers around to the clasp of his slacks. She undid the clip with deft fingers, and slid them underneath his waistband. So quickly that she didn't even realized he'd moved yet, he grabbed her hands and said, "If you take these off, Quistis, I will be as naked as you are."

His statement caused her to pause for the briefest of moments, before she steeled herself and tugged his trousers down inch by inch. He released her hands and straightened, watching her with sharp eyes as he was finally revealed to her.

Like when his bare chest was exposed, Quistis eyes lingered on her newfound discovery. His member was prominent, erect, and larger than she'd expected. Suddenly nervous, she glanced up at him and he smirked at her expression.

"Though your reaction is flattering, you've no cause for worry. I promise it will fit," he teased.

Quistis felt a blush creep across her cheeks at being caught; he knew she was inexperienced, but to have him point out her ignorance was embarrassing.

"I wasn't worried," she replied indignantly.

"Of course you weren't," he murmured in response, intertwining their fingers as he kneeled on the bed, pulling her down with him.

They fell back onto the covers, and Seifer placed his hands on her hips, guiding her over him as she shyly straddled him. When his erect member brushed against her core, she gasped and rose up on her knees, reflexively shying away from him.

He stroked his fingers along her spine, murmuring under his breath, "Quistis, look at me. It's all right."

With frantic eyes, she stared down at him, trying to concentrate on the color of his irises rather than everything else going on—such as how close their naked bodies were, or how warm the room seemed to have become within the past few minutes.

As he continued to caress her bare skin, he stated, "If you don't want to do this, we don't have to."

"I thought we did haveto consummate the marriage."

"Eventually, people may question whether we have or haven't, but it isn't any of their business. If you aren't ready for it to happen tonight, it doesn't have to be tonight."

Unsure, she bit her bottom lip, going over the pros and cons of the situation in her mind. Gently, Seifer reached over and grasped her hands, pulling them over from beside him to rest on his chest with her fingers splayed out.

"Just feel. Take a moment and revel in the way your body is experiencing things. If you ever feel overwhelmed, let me know. We can take a step back, or stop entirely if that is what you wish," he said, sweeping her hair over her shoulder before cupping the back of her head. "Though I won't lie, I personally would like to continue."

Taking his advice, she closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, concentrating on the warmth emanating from him—his hand on her back, and the other behind her neck; his length against her core, and the sound of his breathing, intermingling with her own erratic breaths.

As she was trying to calm herself down, his hand on her back moved and she felt his arm encircle her waist. With gentle, slow movements, he shifted her to the side and switched their positions so that he was now holding himself above her, and her back was pressed to the soft, plumose blanket.

She opened her eyes and he cradled her face with his hand, staring into what felt like the depths of her soul. His erection brushed against her yet again, and it felt like his warmth was searing into her thigh. Her hands shot up to his upper arms in reflex, though she felt significantly less panicked than she did the first time it happened.

"Do you feel better now?"

Quistis nodded and offered a slight smile. "Yes, I think so."

He nodded as well. "I am going to try and take this further, but if you ever feel overwhelmed again, let me know."

"All right," she whispered, nervous, but feeling anxious to move forward. Up until this moment, it felt like they'd been stalling, circling around each other without ever meeting in the middle. Even she, despite her inexperience, could feel that it was time to push forward.

He leaned down, keeping their eyes locked as he hovered over her pert nipples, breathing out softly as he looked up at her from under thick lashes. An errant thought that men didn't deserve such alluring eyelashes flitted across her mind, until his tongue snaked out and teased her nipple, causing her to gasp and arch her back in response. The wetness on her skin immediately cooled, and sent shockwaves of pleasure rolling through her lower abdomen. Any previous thought she'd had quickly disappeared.

Without giving her time to recover, he moved across to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment, smiling against her skin when he received the same response. After she relaxed and her back touched the blanket again, his tongue roved down along the length of her torso until he reached her navel. He swirled it around the indent, and she gripped his shoulders tightly, unaware of where he would go next.

When he slid her slender legs over his shoulders and leaned in, his breath tickling her inner thighs, she tensed and craned her neck to peer down at him. "What are you—"

"Do you trust me, Quistis?" Seifer asked, his face poised just above her sex.

It was both unnerving and disconcerting to have him so close to a place that no one had ever been before. Yes, oddly enough, she did trust him. But it was beyond her comprehension that a man would do that for a woman—and for pleasure, nonetheless.

"I...Yes, I do."

"Then lay back and let me do this for you," he murmured, planting kisses along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

With difficulty, she did as he asked and draped her arm over her forehead, tense with anticipation. Since she was no longer looking directly at him, she had no warning of what was to come. When the wet, rough texture of his tongue slid along the length of her folds, a jolt of pure pleasure shot straight to her core, and her arms flew down to him. She threaded her fingers through the fine strands of his hair, tightening her grip when he repeated the motion.

"Oh, Hyne…" She trailed off, her words catching her throat. They were replaced by a breathless moan, and she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to find her bearings.

It felt like she was drowning in pleasure, in the way that he was making her feel. At one point, she felt on the verge of being overwhelmed by her body's reaction to his incredibly talented tongue, and she breathed, "Seifer, Seifer…"

He eased up and planted kisses around the edge of her sex, rather than focusing on her clit. After a few seconds, he asked, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, no, no. Don't stop. I just...I just need a second."

"If I don't stop, it will get even better. I promise," he murmured against her skin.

"Better? It gets better than this?" Quistis questioned, staring up at the velvet canopy above her in disbelief.

His chuckle tickled her thigh. "Oh, my innocent wife. You just have to trust me, remember?"

He shifted his body slightly, and this time, instead of circling her clit with his tongue, it slid into her, causing her to jump in surprise. A wave of pleasure washed over her—so different from the quicker pulses she felt when he licked higher up—and she gripped his hair again before letting out a throaty moan.

Quistis never knew quite what he was going to do, and he kept her just on the verge by alternated between thrusting his tongue into her sex, and teasing her clit. After a few minutes of his rapt attention, she noticed the desire in her lower belly curling into something taut with tension, inexplicable to someone who had never experienced it before.

Her calves tensed, and her grip in his hair tightened. "Seifer, I—"

He paused to say, "Stop thinking about everything so much, Quistis. I want you to focus on the way you feel right now, but don't tense up. Don't hold yourself back."

I—What? What does he mean? She tried to listen to his advice, but his tongue was no longer slowly circling her clit. He was flicking it in quick, precise motions, and she was fighting to catch her breath. When he slid a finger into her, she reflexively tightened around him as she cried out in surprise.

He slid his finger in and out, unrelenting with his tongue, and when she arched her back, he murmured, "You just have to let go, love. I will catch you, don't worry."

He continued with his ministrations, and a few seconds later, the tight string within her snapped. A flood of staggering pleasure unlike anything she'd ever felt before spread through her. She cried out his name as she threw her head back, reeling as she fought to return to reality.

She wasn't sure exactly how much time passed before she opened her eyes again, and he was hovering over her, smoothing her hair back away from her face. Sluggishly, she reached up and placed her hand over his. "Is that how it always is?"

A lopsided, rakish grin spread across his face. "We haven't even gotten to the main part of it, yet."

"What?" she asked in disbelief.

"I needed to try and get you as relaxed as possible, and I wanted you to know what to expect."

Shaking her head in confusion, she replied, "I was told it would hurt. That most certainly did not hurt."

"Well, it will hurt, but only for a brief moment. Then, it should feel like what you just experienced."

"Truly?"

"Again, I wouldn't lie to you, darling. You trust me, yes?"

"Yes," she responded without hesitation.

Seifer shifted, placing himself between her legs and lifting her right leg to rest against his waist. "You have to try not to tense up. It will be difficult, because that's what you'll naturally want to do, but try to take deep breaths."

"O-Okay."

He moved his hips forward, and she felt the blunt head of his member push against her folds. The sensation was rather uncomfortable, and she shifted on the covers, unconsciously trying to scoot farther away from him. His grip on her leg tightened, and he let out a short puff of air that sounded the slightest bit frustrated.

"Sorry, I...I don't know what I was doing. I suppose I'm nervous," she replied, placing her hands on his forearms.

Unexpectedly, he leaned down and placed his lips on hers, coaxing her mouth open to slide his tongue inside. Caught off guard, she barely had a second to reciprocate before he pulled away again, and said, "I know. You don't have to apologize. Just trust me."

She nodded, resting her hand on his cheek briefly. "I do."

He traced soft circles on her ankle with his thumb as he gave her a few seconds to prepare, and then pushed forth again. This time, he slid farther into her, and she tried not to move away from him. Inch by inch, he entered her, and when he was about halfway in, he leaned down again and settled his cheek against hers.

"This is where it will hurt. If you need to, you can hang onto me," he murmured, his breath flittering across her ear.

"All right."

Though he'd warned her, he didn't move right away. The second she wondered why he was waiting, in one quick motion, he drove his hips forward, entering her to the hilt. It was an extremely uncomfortable feeling—more akin to slightly just too much pressure—but it didn't necessarily hurt, like he'd warned her it would. She placed her hands on his back, reveling in the feel of his muscles shifting and tensing beneath her fingers.

Eventually, he leaned away from her so that he could look into her eyes. "Are you all right?"

"It didn't hurt. It was supposed to, wasn't it?"

"Well—yes, I hear it usually does. It didn't?"

She shook her head in denial, and his expression turned thoughtful. "Are you active?"

"Active? As in, physical activity?"

"Yes."

"A bit, I suppose. I go chocobo riding rather often, and I took dance lessons all throughout my childhood. Why?"

"Perhaps that's why. Either way, I consider us lucky, then," he noted with a grin.

She mirrored his expression before raising an eyebrow. "Is it...Are you supposed to do something? Is this it?"

He threw his head back and let out a throaty laugh, and she marveled at the way his face seemed years younger when he did so. In her opinion, he should take his own advice and smile more. He almost seemed like a different man entirely. His laughter also caused him to shift inside of her, and she was taken aback by the slight flutter of pleasure that coursed through her.

"No, this isn't it. I take it you're ready, then?"

"I think so," she replied with a smile.

Again, he leaned down and planted a kiss on her lips. "Very well, then. Whatever my wife commands."

To her surprise, he moved back, pulling himself out until only the tip rested in her. Without any further preamble, he snapped his hips forward, and the sensation of being filled so completely, so quickly, elicited a loud moan of desire from her. He planted his arms beside her head and leaned down, licking her neck so faintly, she was almost sure she'd imagined it. The combination of the featherlight caress of his tongue and the overwhelming feeling of him driving into her core made her lightheaded in the best possible way.

Quistis couldn't count how many times she moaned, overtaken by carnal pleasure. When Seifer answered her moans with his own guttural groans in her ear, she tightened her arms around his wide frame, feeling like she couldn't possibly get any closer to him. It felt like she was drowning in his presence, in the way he was making her feel.

His spicy, masculine scent filled her nostrils and she threw her head back onto the pillow. He traced kisses along her neck before capturing her lips in another blazing kiss. The motions of his tongue matched the rhythm of his hips, and she fought to remain grounded, like he'd told her to do earlier.

It felt like a lifetime later that the now-familiar coil of tension formed in her lower abdomen, and she curled her fingers in response. Her nails dug into Seifer's back, and he lifted his head to gaze into her eyes.

Never once did he let up as he stared into her soul; his hips continued to drive into her, and she raked her nails down his back as the tension built.

"Seifer, I…"

When she trailed off, he kissed her again before whispering, "I know."

"How can you—"

He interrupted her by placing a kiss along the edge of her jaw. When he spoke next, his voice was strained, as if it took every fiber of his being to speak while he was fighting to ensure that his actions weren't rough. "I can feel it. You're quivering around me."

"Oh," she breathed, and he chuckled as he cupped her cheek.

"Oh, indeed. Promise me you won't hold back?" he asked, sliding one of his hands between their bodies.

"I promise," she replied, staring up into his vivid, breathtaking eyes.

He quickened his motions, and the change in pace caught her off guard. It felt like the pleasure increased tenfold, and when she felt his fingers graze her clit, it was the catalyst to the pressure building inside of her. The taut string snapped with such force that she thought she might break in two, and the edges of her vision faded as she cried out Seifer's name.

She was so far gone in her own pleasure, that she didn't hear his responding cry. She did, however, feel him grabbing her hips so tightly, it was any wonder that it didn't hurt. It felt as if he was filling her even more than before, and when she came back down from her high, his head had fallen forward and he was resting his forehead on her chest.

Lazily, she ran her fingers through his hair, listening to his breaths come in slower, longer drags than before. Eventually, he lifted his head and looked into her eyes with a relaxed smile.

"Well," he stated.

A laugh escaped her, and she echoed, "Well. Is it always like that?"

He pulled out of her, leaving her feeling oddly empty in both the figurative and literal sense, before rolling over and flopping down onto the bed beside her. "I can't speak for the fairer sex, but I do what I can to try and make it that way, yes."

She hummed in response, rolling onto her side to rest her hand on his chest. He didn't respond, and simply placed his hand over hers. The warmth from his skin seeped into her own, and the comfort of his presence, along with feeling unfamiliarly satisfied in a way she hadn't known she'd been missing, had her feeling rather drowsy.

Her eyelids must've started fluttering shut, because he laughed and quietly said, "You can sleep. I'll be here when you wake."

"Oh good," she mumbled incoherently, letting her eyes remain shut.

The sound of his rich, throaty laugh was the last thing she remembered hearing before the insistent waves of sleep pulled her under, and the world fell away.

A/N:

Awww, so romantic. True to romance novel form, though, it'll stay this way for only a short while. Of course, there has to be some sort of dramatic reveal that puts the two of them at odds, and forces Seifer to prove to Quistis that, yes, he actually does love her. Hooray, angst and drama! It begins... *rubs hands together maniacally*

Thank you to Strings805 and StarryNight101 for beta-reading for me :)

Also, thank you to my wonderful readers. It kind of blows my mind that this story only had six chapters and already hit 50 reviews. You guys are the absolute best, and I love you all : 3 I can only hope this was worth the wait ;)

EDIT 4/7/16: For anyone who has read this chapter recently and/or is waiting for an update, all of my stories have been placed on semi-hiatus until the end of the semester, which is the first week of May. I'm going to continue working on upcoming chapters for all three of my WIPs, but with how busy I'm going to be in the coming weeks with finals and remaining assignments, I hesitate to commit to getting an update out on time. Realistically speaking, my free-time is few and far between lately, and I don't want everyone to worry about lack of updates. I've not forgotten about the story, I promise! Until then, I appreciate everyone who is still reading and cares about this story as much as I do :)