Chapter 95 Kiss Me - Amelia’s POV
His lips found mine with unexpected gentleness, a soft press that contrasted sharply with the desperate energy I felt thrumming through his massive frame. I gasped, the small sound swallowed by his mouth as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against his chest. This wasn't our first kiss, but it felt different, weighted with intention, with promise, with the knowledge that we were stepping over a threshold we could never return from. My hands slid up his chest to curl around his neck, fingers threading through the short hair at his nape as I rose on tiptoes, pressing myself closer.
'Finally,' Kaela hummed, her presence warm and eager in our shared mind.
Aleksandr's restraint crumbled at my enthusiastic response. His kiss deepened, tongue sweeping into my mouth as his hands spanned my waist, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, clinging to his broad shoulders as he carried me toward the bed. The movement brought our bodies into perfect alignment, and I felt the hard evidence of his desire pressing against me through our clothes.
"Amelia," he breathed against my mouth, my name a reverent prayer on his lips.
His hands were everywhere, tentative at first, then growing bolder as my soft sighs encouraged him. Buttons slipped free under his deft fingers, my dress falling open to reveal the simple cotton beneath. I should have been self-conscious, I'd never been undressed by anyone before, but the hunger in his eyes as he looked at me made me feel beautiful, desirable, right.
I reached for him in turn, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, my fingers clumsy with impatience. He chuckled against my lips, the sound vibrating through me.
"Let me," he murmured, stepping back just far enough to pull the shirt over his head in one fluid motion.
My breath caught at the sight of him, all sculpted muscle and battle scars, a map of survival etched across golden skin. I'd seen him shirtless before, that day in the forest when he'd shifted, but now I allowed myself to truly look, to appreciate. My fingers traced a particularly vicious scar that curved from his collarbone to just above his heart.
"Later," he promised, understanding my unspoken question about its origin. "I'll tell you every story."
Then his hands were pushing my dress from my shoulders, letting it pool at my feet. His eyes darkened as they swept over me, standing before him in just my simple underwear. I fought the urge to cover myself, to hide the evidence of years of deprivation, ribs still too visible, hip bones too sharp despite weeks of regular meals in the castle.
"Beautiful," he whispered, and the sincerity in his voice made my eyes sting with unexpected tears.
We shed the rest of our clothes with fumbling hands and nervous laughter, the moment somehow both solemn and joyful. Then he was guiding me backward until my knees hit the edge of his massive bed. I sat, then scooted back across the silk sheets as he followed, his much larger body moving over mine with careful precision. He held his weight on his forearms, positioned on either side of my head, creating a shelter of flesh and bone above me.
"I'll be careful," he promised, his eyes searching mine. "If I hurt you, if you want to stop for any reason…"
I pressed my finger to his lips, silencing him. "I trust you," I said simply. "I'm nervous, not scared."
'Never scared of mate,' Kaela agreed.
The tension in his shoulders eased slightly at my words. He lowered his head, pressing soft kisses along my jawline, down the column of my throat, across my collarbone. Each touch was reverent, unhurried despite the urgency of our situation. His hand skimmed down my side, fingers tracing the curve of my waist, the jut of my hip, before continuing their journey to my thigh.
I shivered as his hand moved inward, brushing against the most intimate part of me with feather-light touches. My inexperience made me tense, memories of unwanted touches trying to surface. But this was different, this was Aleksandr, my mate, his touch meant to bring pleasure, not pain.
'Relax,' Kaela urged. 'Let go.'
I forced the tension from my body, focusing on the warmth of Aleksandr's skin against mine, on the gentle press of his mouth as it moved down my body. When his finger finally slipped inside me, I gasped, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant. He watched my face closely, attuned to every flicker of expression.
"Okay?" he asked, voice rough with restrained desire.
I nodded, unable to find words as he began to move his finger in slow, measured strokes. The initial strangeness gave way to something else, a building warmth that had me shifting restlessly beneath him. Encouraged by my response, he added a second finger, the stretch burning slightly before easing into pleasure.