Dearest reader,

It would be so awesome to hear from you. I would love to hear suggestions about the story and maybe write them into a chapter or something. Don't worry though. I would credit you for your ideas haha. I'd love to bring your ideas to life and hopefully bring justice to them.

Have a good day.

Yours,
Lili

Note: Events, places, and people are fictional (except major cities or countries) and any likeness to real life is coincidental. Capcom owns the Ace Attorney series and all its characters. Brands mentioned in the course of the story are also not mine unless stated otherwise. Standard Disclaimer Applies.

This story is rated M, and this chapter contains moderately graphic scenes. Please be advised. If you are uncomfortable with them, I suggest you skip that part, or find other reading material. Thank you.

Chapter 2

-Male, Maldives-
March 29, 2022 5:00 PM

"Are you okay, Franziska? Still suffering from that hangover from the party?" Miles couldn't help but tease her who downed almost an entire bottle of patron tequila in their wedding reception- shot by shot of course. They were both inside a rented car on their way to Nirvana Resort in the Maldives.

"Not funny, Miles Edgeworth. While the plane ride was tolerable, my head really did kill me. Why did you not drink much anyway?"

"I had to drive, remember? And besides, you and me both drunk would never be a good combination." He smiled to himself.

"I loathe admitting it, Miles Edgeworth, but you have always been a better drinker." She crossed her arms and pouted. He found that incredibly endearing.

"Thanks. Don't feel so bad Franziska von Karma, because you have better self-control when you are inebriated." He made eye contact with her. She knew that was true. She has heard the stories, but she has never, ever seen him drunk.

"I would be Franziska von Karma-Edgeworth now, fool." She glared at him.

"Of course, of course." He dismissively pat her head in an attempt to pacify her. She was annoyed at that.
They travelled for a stretch time, passing a few monuments, tropical flora, and beautiful rock formations. She began to think about the night ahead. It was a perfect moist dusk transitioning into a cold night. The Maldives had a harsh warm climate in the morning, and an equally merciless cool one at night. She tried to preoccupy herself with thoughts of the weather, but she was scared for tonight. She had to consummate this marriage, somehow.
She snatched a peek at her immaculately handsome husband. He was asleep, leaning his head on the seat. His hair was dishevelled from their plane ride. His eyes were still framed by those black square eyeglasses that made him resemble his father so. Strangely she could still see his thick dark eyelashes, which she felt when he kissed her chastely in their wedding hours ago. Deep inside, she knew he was perfect.

-Nirvana Resort, Orchid Villa-
March 29, 2022 9:00 PM

"What did you think of dinner, Miles Edgeworth?" She began to unpack her clothes, folding them properly and settling them into a wooden wardrobe.

"The food was quite different, but I liked it, especially with that divine pinot noir we received from the executor as a wedding gift." He replied with a knowing smile.

"Hmph. I simply cannot understand your inclination to wine. It is bitter and too saturated, and..."

"Strange we are discussing alcohol once again. How about we discuss other matters now, like how we should address each other now we are married?"

"Well, anything should acceptable, so long it is not 'darling', or 'honey', or 'sweetheart', or God forbid how that fool Phoenix Wright would address his girlfriend, 'Rissie-pie' when he is soooo in love!" She spat.

"Well then, how about, 'dearest'? My father used to call my mother that." He looked at her with a sad but comforting frown.

"And I shall call you what?" She followed.

"You may decide that on your own." She looked at him intently. Could he be blushing? He noticed her close inspection and pretended to study a beverage menu.

Mein liebe. It could not get past her throat. Eeew. Secretly there was a small part that wanted him to call her 'dearest'. She glanced on their king sized bed. How is she going to pull tonight off?

"I'm going to take a shower. Would you..." Miles was pondering on something serious. Franziska was nervous. Could he perhaps be asking her to join him?

"Would you like me to run a bath for you?" He asked.

"Oh... Yes. Do whatever you want. Use the lily bath gel and the chamomile salts." She sat on the settee by the big French window. He nodded and proceeded to slide off his tie and take off his navy blue blazer. He began unbuttoning his navy blue dress shirt and stole a glance at his wife who was dauntlessly watching but obviously flustered.

He stepped inside the bath and showered as quickly as the tub filled with water and created a lovely bubbly concoction. He dried himself and brushed his teeth, then shaved the growing stubble along his jaw. He looked at himself on the mirror. He had aged well- considering everything he had gone though. There were a few wrinkles along his brow, likely from excessive frowning or his other harsh, forbidding expressions in court. Staying with Franziska however reduces some of that. She already overtook the role of displaying those expressions for him, and all he could do was sigh and feel tranquilized.

She looked beautiful. Her light blue hair cascaded in curls along her shoulders and rested on her full breasts. She clipped her growing fringe towards the side of her forehead as she was skimming her instagram posts. She was perched on that settee still in her wedding gown, her long creamy legs were peaking out and tucked under one another. Her wedding shoes were on the floor. If he stayed longer near her, he would go mad.

'Lord von Karma was always the cruelest man to his enemies, but he was fiercely protective of his family. I loved him. I truly did, and though he never told me so, I knew he loved me too. I wish Franziska would find a man who would make her eyes twinkle with much love, like how her sister Triela's does.' He remembered his talk with Grandmother Gerta. Why him? Was it because he was the most convenient choice? Probably. But, marriage was the last thing on his mind. He always thought if he married, he would have a family like his father did- equal parts love and discipline. But he knew that even if his father, Gregory was very busy with his cases, he always took the time to bring him and his mother to a game, movie, or dinner, and that he was utterly besotted with his wife. He loved that about his father. He wished to be like that only, he wasn't sure what he felt about his own wife now. He looked at the empty bathtub, imagining how she might look like in it. He shook his head, berating himself. In marriage, there must be concupiscence and chastity. He made excuses to himself to comfort his confused heart.

"Franziska, you may use the bath now." He saw his wife asleep on the settee, curled up with a pillow.

"Hey... Tired? Let's put you to bed." He nudged her gently.

"I don't have work today..." She mumbled.

"Let's get you out of those clothes." He realized what he had said and tried to hide his embarrassment.

"I mean, you should at least change into your sleeping attire. It is unfit to wear a wedding gown to bed." He ran his fingers through her hair. She wouldn't respond. He lifted her up and propped her on the settee upright, and nudged her again.

"Will you be okay if I changed you out of those clothes?" He whispered to her ear.

She heard that question and opened her eyes, and turned to find her husband wearing a dark bathrobe, with hair quite damp. He smelled of musk and aftershave, and his grey eyes burned intensely, melting into her icy blue eyes.
"I can manage." She stood and tied her hair into a knot, and slipped off her garters and stockings. She took off her jewelry. After a few attempts to reach her back zipper, she gave up. I swear, I am going to start yoga just so I can be flexible enough to reach back zippers! Blushing, she approached her husband who was sitting on the bed reading a book.

"Miles Edgeworth..." She cleared her throat. He turned his attention to her.

"Unzip me." He raised both his eyebrows. She looked proud as always, hands on her hips. Then, her eyes softened and her cheeks turned bright pink. "Please." She bit her lip.

"Curses." He pulled her towards him and set her lips onto his. She sighed and stiffened in shock. After a few moments she settled comfortably on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn't understand, but she liked him near. He was her husband, and according to law, every right hers.
When was it he started seeing her as a woman? Was it when she cried and hugged him when she first bled and had no idea whatsoever about it? Or was it when she had her debut party and danced with him? Or was it when she ended her first relationship with another man and ran to him for comfort? He didn't care. He was certainly attracted to her. He must have her.

His lips travelled from her mouth, to its corners, to her temples, to her beauty mark, back down along her shapely jaw. He left a trail of fire burning, which turned her skin every bit more sensitive every second, leaving her begging for something she couldn't name. His hands traversed along her curves and squeezed the right places. She couldn't help but yelp every now and then, and grow more bashful when she heard his triumphant grunts when he did something right. His hand slipped under her skirt, struggling to get past the thick tulle petticoat of her gown. He gently touched behind her knee, which made her gasp. He took that chance to slip his tongue into her mouth for a deeper kiss. Her head was spinning and she felt more muscle as she leaned further into him, rocking onto his upper body, grabbing onto whatever she could. His tongue plundered into every corner of her mouth and she hated being dominated like so. She slipped her hands into his robe and caressed his chest, feeling firm pectorals and serrati along her fingers. He groaned and slid his hand further up along her thigh. He pulled away from her lips, kissing her neck and collarbones. His other hand began to undo that wretched bun and sent her blue locks tumbling down. Indeed, he unzipped her, and tugged her bodice downward to such a limit that her breasts were almost freed of their cage. His kisses grew more urgent as he kissed lower, and lower. She felt more and more warmth building up inside her, in her heart, her womb, between her legs, and down to her calves. In her confusion, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and as he suckled on the milky white flesh of her breasts, leaving little pink love bites, she couldn't help but lace her fingers around his dark hair.

"Miles..." She said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Please..." She begged.

He realized what he was doing. He pulled away.

She looked perfectly tumbled, and thoroughly indecent, but he didn't regret it. He carried her off his lap and settled her on the bed, turning her back to him. He continued to unzip her gown all the way down. He could tell she was nervous and just as frustrated as he is.

"I'm not sorry." He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, whispered to her ear and kissed her neck. He stood up and walked to the terrace without another word.

She stared at him, fighting back the tears building up. She knew it was his way of telling her that he did not want to rush things, and did not want to force her into anything she made clear she didn't want for years. She didn't blame him because he was Miles Edgeworth who was ever so sensitive to the wishes of people near him. The only problem was that, what she always said she never wanted was now the thing she wanted the most.
She redid her bun and slipped out of her wedding dress and stepped into the tub.

O-o-O-o-O

The lights were dimmed. The television was off. Slow jazz was playing on a very low volume, coming from Miles's phone on the nightstand. He was lying on his side, breathing evenly. He was not yet asleep, but trying to drift there. His nightmares as a younger man gave him insomnia. Though the cause of his nightmares was no longer present, his body could not yet breakaway from the habit.

"I... I'm sorry." She muttered and slipped under the covers beside him.

"Don't apologize." He said, without turning to face her.

"I don't mind... I... I liked it." She knew. He knew, but was polite not to say it.

"I didn't want to do it that way. Not to you."

"Is it because I can't compare to her? She must have been the only woman you've ever loved." She said in a bitter tone. She was talking about Miles's ex-girlfriend who was a medical intern. Their relationship ended last year.
"No. It's never like that." He couldn't look at her.

"It's fine. I know I can never be her. Also, I dragged you into this. I don't blame you if you hesitate to have me."

"I didn't want to ravage you like a piece of meat. You are my wife." He spoke clearly. She was struck silent.

One more thing must be done to make their marriage binding. She was hesitant. She never imagined her first would be him. She wanted everything to be perfect. There she was on a bed next to an imperfectly perfect man who consented to being her husband. She was not certain what she felt for him, but deep inside she wanted him to love her.

"Then don't. Make love to me, Miles Edgeworth." She lay down next to him and rested her head against his shoulder. She placed a small hand on his arm. He covered it with his large one. He turned to face her, taking in a sharp inhale.

She looked like a goddess. Her light blue hair was sprawled on her pillow. Her baby blue eyes sparkled innocently but wilfully. Her skin glowed of health under the pale moonlight that shafted through the French windows of their villa. She looked like a tiny wisp of a woman clothed in pearl blue silk and white lace trying to look chaste but ended up looking like temptation itself.

"You would let me?" he said in a low timbre.

"I wouldn't let anyone else. Not anymore." She closed her eyes. She shivered- from cold or nervousness, she couldn't tell anymore.

His facial expression turned harsh and possessive upon the notion of another man possibly doing this. Now that he was her husband, no other man should have any business crossing the line with her any longer.

He caressed her cheek, brushing off strands of her hair outward, tucking them behind her ear. He neared her, tilted his face a little and kissed her lips gently. At first it was a soft whisper of caresses, and not longer after, he pressed his lips onto hers with more pressure, more direction, and more purpose. She responded with her lips with equal fervour. He left her lips to kiss her forehead, her eyelashes, that beauty mark, behind her ear, down to her neck. He hovered over her to gain more access of her body.

She pulled him closer and placed her lips upon his. Shyly, she traced the tip of her tongue onto the entrance of his lips. He smiled and let her in, combining their breath, wrapping their arms around each other as they switched places. Franziska settled comfortably on his chest, straddling his rigid, sinewy trunk.

She left butterfly kisses along his temples, down to his jaw, suckled briefly on his neck pulses, and brushed her lips on his collarbones. Boldly, she began unbuttoning his pyjama top, breathing hotly, and heavily. His hands likewise roamed to gradually untie the ribbons of her negligee, which barely covered her skin. As she undid each button, she kissed the flesh revealed along the length. When she reached the final button so close to his pelvis, he took in a quick breath and pulled her face towards him for a kiss. He was unbearably aroused, and if she went further, he would finish earlier than he meant to.

He lifted her feather-weight slender body and seated her on the edge of their bed. He got off the bed, faced her and pulled her negligee off her body. She wore a pearl blue lace-bordered demi-bra, and matching lace panties. She looked the other way in embarrassment. Her cheeks were in a lovely shade of pink, like the skin between her breasts, bony prominences, and her hips. She was ripe, full, and womanly.

He settled himself between her thighs and kissed her lips, wrapping her in a tender embrace. He was trying to make this easier for her, taking things slow. She wished she could make this less awkward. Would small talk work? That was utterly absurd. She had no idea how to go about these things. She did have a boyfriend, but she never went all the way. Besides, this man is too different from her ex.

He began to kiss lower, slipping his fingers under her bra straps, and lowering them as well. He looked into her eyes. He noticed her fear and hesitancy. He cupped her cheek, giving her a gentle smile. She nodded and kissed him tenderly.

He proceeded to unhook her bra. She shut her eyes in her shyness.

"Don't worry. You are beautiful." He whispered to her ear. He ran a palm across one globe of her breast. They were beautifully shaped, and large enough to fit his hand. He flicked a pink nipple which elicited a gasp from her. He began to kiss that breast and soon, he laved his tongue along the fair flesh of her soft breast to her nipple. She couldn't help but moan and twist in sweet ecstacy. She buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. He suckled that nipple while he caressed the other breast, giving it equal tactile attention, making it swell in his other hand.

"Oh... Miles..." she sighed as he tongued her other breast, as if he was enjoying a feast. His other hand ran down her spine leaving a trail of fire. She leaned back onto the bed. After making love to her breasts, he began to kiss the length of her upper body, just as she did his earlier. He reached just above her pelvis and smirked. He looked his fingers under the hems of her panties and slid them down her thighs, eventually taking them off her legs, baring her totally.

"That isn't fair, Miles Edgeworth. You didn't let me..."

"Tonight is yours, Franziska." He spoke softly, spreading her thighs to reveal her clean, pink womanhood. She was blushing madly, hiding her face with her hands.

"What are you doing? Don't... Don't stare..." she hissed.

"Like I said, Franziska, you are beautiful." He briefly nudged her entrance, brushing his thumb on the small nub of erectile flesh above. She moaned, arching her back. Tears were brimming from her eyes.

He continued to love her there, exploring, touching, and teasing with his fingers. She became wetter and wetter, and as he pressed a finger deep inside her she gasped and moaned. She bit her lip to stop herself from begging him for something. She was nearly incoherent.

"Please... I..." she gasped. He chuckled. He picked up the pace and added another finger while brushing repeatedly on her sensitive nub. He slid them in and out more rapidly. They didn't care about the heated atmosphere, their moans, groans, and the lewd sounds of squelching and slapping flesh from their lovemaking. These all heightened her arousal to the highest point where she shivered and convulsed, releasing her pleasure, eventually descending to a softened, melted hot mess in his arms.

"How did you like that?" he asked hovering over he spent body, kissing the tip of her nose.

"I... How dare you." She blushed haughtily and faced the other way. He couldn't help but laugh. She was feisty as always. But she wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him close. He still had his pyjama bottoms on. That wasn't fair. She was irrevocably dominated by him.

-Nirvana Resort, Orchid Villa-
March 30, 2022 7:30 AM

He was awake. Only, he did not want to get up. He wanted to continue watching her next to him, asleep, beautiful, and thoroughly loved last night. Well, maybe not too thoroughly. He didn't become one with her. They would be together for two years. He can't risk the possibility of creating life. That would complicate things between them.
'Loved'? Did he love her? He wasn't sure. But he knew he was attracted to her, and he liked her. She would never be his sister no longer.

He wouldn't lie to himself. He enjoyed last night. He would do it again if he would allow himself to. But there was something in him that made him respect her too much. She was off-limits, because if he treated her like he would a lover, he would break her. She was that type of woman to him. She deserves true love, and he would murder any man who would dare give her any less. Believe it or not, he almost did when Franziska broke up with her boyfriend years ago. They were both so young, and yes, foolish.

He knew deep in his heart that he couldn't be the man to give her true love because he never had it to begin with. After breaking up with Cara, he learned that. She left him because he never really loved her all along.
"Good morning." He smiled at her as she fluttered her eyes open. He caressed her cheek and tucked a blue strand behind her ear. "How are you?" He asked.

"I'm fine." She covered his hand with hers. She looked elsewhere. She was blushing.

"You're beautiful." He kissed her forehead.

"You keep saying that. I never expected you to be a mushy romantic." She quirked a smile.

"I happen to be a keen observer in case you haven't noticed all these years." He sat upright. She still couldn't stop feeling shy about seeing almost all of him. Miles was not just fit. He was ripped, and he didn't aim to be. He simply always tried to find time to hit the gym everyday. She couldn't always go to the gym, but she jogged and did cardio exercises to keep fit. She stared at his broad shoulders, and at his strong arms. She remembered the feel of him last night, how hard and hot his body was compared to hers. And yet, he was so gentle on her.

"We're married. We're... actually married." She sighed. She was disappointed that they didn't go all the way last night. But one part of her was relieved. She was not ready, and she was stressed enough to fall asleep. Sooner or later, she will have to seduce him.
"You get to keep your share now. I am curious though. You aren't the type to marry for money." He commented.
"Heiterkeit." With that one word, he understood, and leaned over to envelop her into his arms.
"I understand. It's alright. You did well." His voice was so gentle, so soothing. He didn't make her feel sorry about marrying for such a reason at all. She didn't mean to, but a few tears fell from her eyes. No other words were needed between them.

-Nirvana Resort, Beach Side-
March 30, 2022 9:00 AM

The sun shone brightly, beaming its white light along the ocean waves, making their small caps glisten like liquid crystals. There were a mixture of palm, kalachuchi, and coconut trees along a mixed terrain of the purest white sand, and soil. The scents of the shore flora intermingled with seaweed, and the cool breeze. They had it all to themselves.

Franziska reclined her back against a beach chair, relaxing and sipping on a peach colada. She was wearing a new white halter bikini under a floral-print silk sundress. A khaki wide-brimmed sunhat adorned her head and a pair of fendi shades shielded her eyes. She had a mystery novel on her lap. She was a picture of stress eliminated.

Miles on the other hand, was sitting against a rock formation by the seashore. He was wearing his swimming trousers and his goggles were on the sand next to him. He was panting from a long swim. He counted the tiny crabs that walked along the sand in front of him to eliminate his boredom. He was successfully putting his mind off his work and he never felt any more satisfied.

"Hey." He turned to greet Franziska who walked over to the shore to sit beside him.

"Hey yourself." She retorted and with a wry smile, she lifted her skirt a little and tucked it between her legs to avoid ruining it from sitting on the sand next to him.

"The ocean sure is beautiful. The water is pleasantly cold." He began.

"It's too hot for me. I have yet to apply sunblock. I do not wish for my skin to burn." She glared at the heat.

"You would look like a tomato." He chuckled.

"But I would be the perfect tomato nonetheless!" They both smiled.

"So, whose place? Yours, or mine?" he asked.

"What?" She looked at him in awe. Funny he should ask that question. It made her feel rebellious, like a young woman engaging in a casual one-night stand.

"Where do we live when we return? We are going to be married for two years, aren't we?"

"Of course. Well, I'm thinking of moving out my condominium. It does not have enough space." She replied.

"My house then?" he asked.

"Suitable. Your house is quite large and empty."

"At least two people would fit well." He nodded.

"At least?"

"Yes. At least."

They sat in companionable silence- like old times. And yet, they couldn't help feeling they were far away from each other. They weren't alone. They were alone together. And, it felt lonely.

"I wish to go swimming." Franziska stood up and dusted her skirts of sand. She walked back to her chair and started applying sunblock. "I'll do it." Miles took the bottle from her.

"Lie down." He prompted. His voice was cool, polite and confident as usual. He was the perfect gentleman, and yet she couldn't help but notice the devilish glint in his eyes. She wished she had her whip to punish him for that, but even if she did, she couldn't. She was utterly under his spell. She slipped out of her sundress and laid herself on her abdomen, prone on the beach chair. He seated himself on the empty space on the chair along the curve of her waist to her hips.

They went to the beach together as a whole family few times in the past. Sometimes Triela or he would help her apply sunblock lotion on her back or other places she couldn't reach. This was nothing new to her, and yet, why does she feel so shy and nervous all of a sudden? It shouldn't be because she was prone and barely clothed. She was already in the state just the night before.

"Do you still watch that Iron Samurai series, Miles Edgeworth?" she tried to lessen the tension as he opened the lotion bottle and started applying some on her arms.

"It's Steel Samurai, Franziska. Sadly, they don't air anymore, but I've found the entire series on DVD. Are you interested?" he spoke excitedly.

"No. I had a client who collects mementos of the series." As she began her story, he pulled on the strings of her bikini top. She couldn't help but whimper a sigh. He raised an eyebrow. "What about this client?" he asked, while pulling down the strings, laying the swimsuit flat against the bench. Her fair, flawless, smooth back was exposed to the sun, as well as a peek of the swell of one large breast. He tried to shake the temptation off, and began applying lotion onto her back.

"He was always a loyal fan. He... He kept trading cards. Almost had them all, but I bet you have a more extensive collection, considering the otaku you are." She scoffed. He began to massage her back. She purred in satisfaction.

"That feels really nice." She sighed. His hands slid to her lower back.

"I remember the time you went to that samurai cafe." She giggled.

"Curses, I never thought Wright would tell you about that." He grunted.

"He didn't. I found out myself. I was there too, following you because I needed to see you for a second opinion on some cases." He was done spreading the lotion. He admired the lovely curve of her back, her shapely shoulders, and her nicely-shaped derriere tightly encased in so-little cloth. A fleeting image of sliding his hands under her back to capture the globes of her breasts while he would straddle her and make a sweet intrusion from behind came to him. He felt himself harden and hunger for their intimacy the night before. His jaw tightened as he willed his urges away. He prided himself in that- the one thing he was sure to be closer to perfect at: self-control.

He proceeded to re-tie her bikini top.

"Race, like the old times?" he stood up and turned his back to her to hide his arousal.

"I accept your challenge, Miles Edgeworth." She grinned while sitting upright, adjusting her bikini top.

They swam along the waters extensively and aggressively. They reached nearby islands, took a few breaks, and swam again. Franziska noticed Miles was more restless now. But she couldn't help but ogle him as he swam. He made such graceful yet powerful strokes along the waves. Well-sculpted muscles stretched and contracted as they powerfully propelled him on. He emerged from the water, flipping away his dark fringe, blinked away the salty sting of seawater in his eyes and padded along the sand. He looked like an ethereal sea god of some sort, so fluid in his movements. He looked incredibly sexy.

"I think it's time for lunch, Miles Edgeworth." She pulled him out of the water and handed him a towel.

"Good. I'm famished." He climbed out of the water and accepted her towel.

They walked a short distance towards the restaurant in the resort. A man wearing a tropical button shirt and khaki cotton slacks began to approach them both. He was middle-aged, with greying hair and had round glasses perched on a long slim nose.

"It's Mr. Starling, the executor." Franziska muttered.

"Indeed, it is him. Best we greet him and thank him for planning this trip. What do you say, dearest?" Miles held out his left hand with the gold wedding band on the ring finger towards Franziska. A brief look of challenge passed her features before she nodded.

"That is a wonderful idea, my love." She took his hand. They walked towards Mr. Starling who spotted them and began to wave at them.

to be continued.

O-o-O-o-O

Tsk. That sexually frustrated Miles Edgeworth. But oh well, the story continues haha.

I would be pleased to hear from you, especially because this is the first mature story I've ever published. Please be kind! xO