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They laid next to each other for a long time, the crackle of the fireplace and their breath the only sound between them. Shirayuki had welcomed him into their bed with open arms, and after discarding his heavy formal coat and shoes, he had slid on to the covers next to her with his heart pounding in his chest and expectant heat burning underneath his skin.
Obi had squashed his first instinct to kiss her senseless, instead gathering her close to his side and breathing her in deep into his lungs. He had been patient, so patient, and he was willing to continue to be so for just a little while longer. This was their wedding night, after all, and he wanted to draw out the sweet feelings of anticipation just a little more.
Shirayuki’s head rests cushioned against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, she had said, sweetly. A small smile cracks his lips as he looks down at their hands that lay tangled in each other on top of his stomach.
Obi tilts his head to look up at the ceiling, his heart aching in a mysterious way. The peacefulness of the moment sweeps over him, the convoluted feelings of guilt and desire and happiness he normally felt when he lay in the same bed next to her were gone, leaving in its place a feeling of being… strangely settled. He takes a deep breath, absentmindedly letting his free hand slide from where it was carding through her hair to gently caress her back through the silken material of her nightgown.
Shirayuki makes a soft sound, catching his attention, and he looks down at her to see her eyes, wide and anxious, glittering at him.
His heart squeezes a little more, pulling as if sore from exertion, and he smiles gently down at her. Her hand slips from his, purposefully but with a slight tremble, to lay tentatively on his chest.
Obi’s heart picks up speed at the shy question in her eyes, and he takes a steadying breath before circling her hand with his and raising it to his lips.
“We don’t have to tonight if you don’t want to,” he whispers against her knuckles, looking intently in her eyes. “It’s been a long day.”
Shirayuki’s face suddenly twists, her nervousness dissipating, and she looks as if she is about to laugh before she manages to stomp it down. Extracting her hand from his, she reaches up to trace his cheekbones, a smile ghosting her lips. “Obi,” she gently scolds, her fingertips tickling his skin as she explores the dip of his neck before shifting to settle on his shoulder, “You came to my room last night and made promises…” Her eyes flash up at his, dark and inviting, “Lots of promises.”
He cannot keep the quiver off of his lips, feeling heat rising up his own neck as lets out a breath of a laugh. “Well,” he grins, bringing his hand up to brush his thumb across the shell of her ear, leaning his forehead against hers, “Far be it for me to ever lie to you.”
Her smile is wide and playful as she lets out a little hum of agreement. “Most definitely. What kind of wife would I be if I let you do such a thing?” she replies, tilting her face up towards his in invitation.
He closes the distance between them, lips gentle and insistent, and the energy that crackles over his skin and down his spine surprises him with its intensity. Her cool fingers slide back from his shoulders, tracing the line of his jaw before gently exploring the column of his neck.
A tremor runs through him, and he curbs the urge to press her back into the pillows and simply devour her. After so much time and so much waiting, there was nothing standing between them and it was hard to keep himself under control. Far harder than he ever thought it would be.
He was trying to do this right, he reminded himself. To make sure that tonight was beautiful and thoughtful and everything she deserved. He wanted to show her all that he could give her, and so it was more than slightly frustrating that his carefully laid plans had somehow evaporated from his mind the moment her lips had touched his.
Obi lets his hand run across her scalp to luxuriate in the softness of her hair while the other smoothly caresses her cheek, tilting his head to let hot air and tongues meet each other in the bare space between their lips. He feels a small vibration against him, the barest whisper of a sound, and it pulses through him and goes straight to his cock.
Again, he forces himself to calm, sliding his hand down from her cheek to curl over her shoulder, feeling the heat of her skin just beyond the weave of fabric and it’s intoxicating. Shirayuki presses herself closer to him in response, a little hitch of breath catching in her throat as her fingers slid to the uppermost button of dress shirt to free it from its enclosure.
A low growl escapes him before he can gain control of himself and Shirayuki pulls back, startled. He can feel his blood start to boil as he looks into her eyes, which have become dark and fascinated, fixated on him. Slowly, deliberately, her eyes never leaving his, her fingertips slip down in between the fabric of his shirt until it reaches a catch. She frees the next button, and the next, her attention becoming more and more captivated with each tiny shudder and grunt her actions pull from his body.
He keeps himself still as she pushes the fabric from his body and lets it slide, forgotten, onto the floor beside the bed. Shirayuki lets out a ragged breath, emboldened and focused thoroughly on him, before sliding her body out from underneath the covers to come to her knees on the bed beside him.
Obi’s hands reach out and find the curve of her waist under their own volition, only briefly releasing her as she tugs his undershirt over his head. And then her eyes finally, finally leave his, drifting down to explore his torso. It is with no small amount of masculine pride that he witnesses the tip of her small pink tongue flick her lips before she reaches out to touch him.
A wave of fire crashes through him at the gentle explorations of her hands. Ah, if only he had known, he would have undressed her first. This was too much. She was so soft and so unnecessarily careful with him, brushing along his rib cage, up to his shoulders before letting them slide down the center of his body.
A harsh breath leaves his body as she leans forward to press her lips to the center of his chest. Again, he feels his heart tremble and ache, and he takes hold of her shoulders to push her slightly away.
Her eyes flash up to his, confused, and he smiles down at her with a slight grimace. If only she knew what she did to him…
“I think,” he says, surprised at the breathlessness of his voice, “that I’m going to have to stop you there if we are going to make it through the night.”
Obi sees the protest forming in her face and he leans forward to press a kiss gently to her lips. “I promise you, you’ll have more than enough time to explore what is yours later.”
Shirayuki’s eyes pulse wide in shock and he wonders for a moment if he said something wrong. “What’s mine?” she asks, her voice thick with desire and God, this does not help him. Not at all.
Obi slides his hands up to frame her face with his fingers and looks into her wide verdant eyes with longing. “Yours,” he confirms softly.
She shivers in his hold, her cheeks flushed and her eyes averted from him, before she swallows and rests her hands atop of his. She’s shaking, he realizes with a start, as she turns her head towards his hand to press a kiss into the center of his palm. Then she is taking his hand in hers, pressing it downward and bringing it to the tie of her night gown, right above the curve of her breast. Her eyes flash towards his, nervous but sure. “Yours,” she whispers back.
He is burning alive, he thinks, his eyes stilling on her as all the blood in his body pools in his groin. A groan tears its way from his throat and he shifts his weight on the bed so that she is pressed to the soft mattress beneath them, his body hovering over hers.
Shirayuki lets out a soft surprised sound and looks up at him with wide, overly pleased eyes. Obi fists his hands in the bedding next to her head in response, swallowing thickly and tries to calm the raging storm inside of him. He cock pushes against the enclosure of his pants, protesting its confinement, but he ignores it. After a few steadying breaths, he reaches up back to the blue ribbon knotted right above her heart and gently tugs.
A soft whisper of fabric giving way and their ragged breaths are all that is heard for a long moment before Obi slides his fingers up to the neckline of the gown and parts the fabric gently.
The blush on Shirayuki’s face looks painful, but she lifts herself slightly, letting the fabric slide off of her shoulders and down her arms until it is pooled under her in a swath of silk and all he can do is stare.
He would be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed of what she would look like, naked and soft beneath him, but in this moment he realizes that fantasy could have never lived up to reality. Miles of pale ivory and rose skin lay beneath him, trembling and warm, her breath quickening with every second that passes.
“Obi,” she whispers, and he can hear the soft embarrassment in her voice at his attention.
He looks back up at her, seeing her flushed cheeks and darkened eyes and he abruptly feels weak with his wanting of her. “Perfect,” he whispers, before sliding himself up her body to latch his mouth at the base of her neck.
She lets out a soft whining sound, the silk sliding off of her legs as she arches up into him. The feeling of her bare chest pressing into his threatens his sanity and his hands escape his careful control, roaming over every inch of her skin he could reach, relishing the way her breath hitches and shudders beneath their gentle manipulations. Her legs part beneath him and he wastes no time sliding between them, feeling the heat and wetness of her burn into him.
Her skin was so warm and giving under him and he felt addicted by such a small, simple taste of her in his mouth. With a hot exhale of breath, he releases her neck, sliding down to run his teeth over her collar bone, to suck the space in the valley of her breast. Her maddening little whimpers were like the licks of a flame against his skin and he wanted to hear more, far more; he wanted to hear just how high he could push her until they shattered apart.
Obi slid a hand up her body, cupping one firm breast beneath his palm. Her answering gasp and bite of nails against his back only served to encourage him, rolling and flicking a pale pink nipple in between his fingers. Unable to control himself for a second longer, he turns his head, encompassing her neglected breast in his mouth. She shudders and writhes underneath him, little choked noises escaping her mouth and he doesn’t know how he is going to survive this. He only knows that he must.
He shifts backwards, just slightly, his knees pushing her thighs apart a little wider and he barely manages to keep it together when she pliantly follows his silent instructions. He releases one breast, only to give the other equal treatment and Shirayuki lets out a little sobbing noise in response.
Obi can hardly take it. He skips his hand from her chest, down the smooth expanse of her stomach to cup the curls of hair between her thighs.
“Obi,” she gasps, her thighs spreading more of their own volition.
He tears his mouth from her breast, dragging in deep gulps of air, and looks up at her as he slides one long finger between her folds, only to groan when he feels just how deliciously wet she was. “Miss,” he breathes against her skin, his voice ragged.
She lets out a sound between a laugh and a moan in response, turning her head towards him. The sweet agony on her face is almost more than he can endure. “I thought you said you weren’t going to call me that anymore?”
A grin slowly spreads across his face, and he’s sure the look he gives her in that moment is wicked. “You’re right,” he breathes, sliding his digit up into her in one smooth motion, “my Lady.”
Shirayuki’s whole body curves into a glorious arc, her mouth and eyes open wide. She wasn’t looking at him, not anymore—her eyes were far off, dazed, as if she was comparing this sensation to every other experience in her life and drawing a blank.
Determined to keep that expression on her face, he curls his finger into her, gently thrusting, before adding another. Her breaths, when they come, are shuddering little wisps of air and she grabs onto his shoulders, hard, for stability.
Obi lifts himself, shifting his body so that he can watch her face with rapt attention. He moves his hand inside of her, scissoring his fingers in her at times and curling them into that part of her that he knew would have her seeing stars at others. She felt… so ridiculously good. So hot, so tight, so wet. He didn't know how he was going to survive a second inside of her.
Shirayuki’s gaze starts look pained, lost, and she moves against him with a tiny whisper of desperation. “Obi…” she whimpers, her voice cracking at the edges, “Obi… something’s coming. Something…”
His world suddenly feels very small, centering in on the way her face is so blindly tragic and the wet heat of her dripping down his fingers. He doubles his efforts, his thumb reaching up to circle her clit. “Show me,” he demands, his voice harsh. “Show it to me, Shirayuki.”
He sees it happen in her eyes first, that lost expression turning into one of discovery just as she starts fluttering violently around him, her body pulling his digits deeper. “Oh,” she gasps, the sound coming out as a rush of air as her hands clutch tighter at his shoulders. “Oh…”
Her eyes finally start to flutter shut, surrendering to the waves of pleasure crashing into her, and he lowers himself again, suckling, biting and teasing every bit of skin that he can reach. She’s trembling against him as his lips brush the edge of her ribs before sucking at the skin of her stomach, half mad with witnessing her in such a state.
His fingers are still inside of her, moving slightly, relishing in the way she was squirming so delightfully against them. She arches up into his mouth with a gasp when he grazes the jut of her hip bone with his teeth and he feels the sharp tug of her hands in his hair.
Obi looks up and somehow manages to stay sane despite the look of abject wanting in her eyes.
“Obi,” her voice is breathless, needy. She tugs at his hair again, arching into him, writhing against the fingers still curling inside of her. “You’ve made me wait long enough. Please… come here. I need you.”
He feels his cock jerk painfully inside of his pants, angry at being neglected for so long and he buries his face against her stomach with a harsh exhale. His fingers swiftly escape from the space inside of her, his skin dancing with nerves at the sharp gasp that escapes her at the motion, and he frantically pulls at the ties of his pants.
Rolling onto his back, he frees himself, almost whimpering himself as the cool air caresses his overly sensitive skin. He wriggles out of his pants completely and kicks them off of his body to be lost somewhere beyond the scope of their bed. Looking back at Shirayuki, his desperation curbs slightly when he sees the look on her face.
Her head is held at an awkward angle, as if she is torn between shyness and curiosity, glancing down at him out of the corner of her eyes as if not to be caught. A small chuckle escapes him before he can stop himself.
“It’s okay, my Lady. You can look.”
Her eyes flash back up to his, her cheeks becoming a deeper shade of red and a tiny smile pulling at her lips as she glances back down at him. And oh, what a mistake that is. Obi doesn’t recall a point in his life that he has ever been so ready, ever so painfully hard as he is right now, and so when she outright ogles him, he feels himself twitch, embarrassingly needy in his desire to be inside her.
He sees her hand reach out towards him and panics, catching her wrist in his hand and pulling it back just as he is shifting his body to hover over hers again. “Unfortunately,” he rasps as his looks into her wide eyes, “I don’t think I could handle that. Not tonight, at least.”
Her surprise melts into need, her hands sliding up his body to graze his nipples. He grits his teeth, his breath escaping him in a forlorn sound and she smiles up at him with undeserved adoration. “Then come inside, love.”
He can take it no more. His control has been stretched thin, too thin, and the invitation she offers him snaps the last shred of it in half. His palms curve under her knees, dragging her to him, and she lets out a little gasp, her eyes as dark as the forest at midnight.
Obi adjusts himself, lining his body up with the unbearable heat between her legs, and he slowly slips just the tip of his hardness inside of her.
The tight wetness of her body hits him hard in the gut, and he never… he doesn’t remember this part feeling like this. He opens his eyes, watching her carefully as he slowly undulates his body in and out of her, pushing just a little deeper with each stroke. Her face pinches in pain before relaxing and he begs the heavens with everything that he is that he can make it through this intact.
Finally, after long, seemingly endless minutes, he can go no further. His body is fully enclosed in hers and it is such a glorious feeling that he thinks he may break into a million pieces. He pauses for a long time, his heart threatening to come apart at the seams as he clenches his hands into a fist in an attempt to control himself.
Obi looks up at Shirayuki’s face, which is damp and glistening in the firelight as she looks back at him. “Are you okay?” he grits, trying to find his way through this mind numbing pleasure, wanting desperately to bring her with him.
“Mm,” she murmurs softly, her hands sliding up his body, her touch grazing every part of him she can reach while tearing him apart from the inside out in the process. “I won’t be okay if you don’t move, though,” she breathes.
A pained laugh escapes him until she shifts under him, just slightly, pushing him just a little deeper and his laugh turns into a broken moan. He prays that she is telling the truth, because he can stand it no longer. He pulls his body out of her a little, thrusting into her and feels a satisfied thrill roll through him when she softly whimpers in response.
“Obi,” she gasps, reaching towards him, and he plunges his body into her wet heat, losing himself there and… he doesn’t know what is happening to him. He just knows that he cannot stop the drive of his body any more than he can stop the rising of the sun. He rolls into her, each little sound pulled from her throat chipping away at his sanity.
“I love you,” he grounds out, gathering her close and feeling like his heart is going to explode in his chest. “I love you,” he breaths again into her hair. The sweet pain inside of him was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It ached, threatening to undo him, threatened to break him with every thrust.
She was mewling, her whimpers getting louder and he bends over, sealing his mouth over hers and stealing those sweet little cries. In the future, maybe he would be okay with the world knowing that beautiful sound but tonight, tonight they were his and his alone. He wouldn’t share them with anyone.
His heartbeat pounds furiously in his ears. She felt so good. So incredible. He couldn’t believe that he was here, inside her, each moment feeling like he was closer to death than any other time in his life. She starts fluttering around him and her mouth tears from his, her whole body arching into him before her lips latch on to the space between his collarbone and neck, her nails sliding across his back in a way that feels achingly blissful. And he feels her start to shudder, start to shake uncontrollably as her legs wrap around his hips, bringing him closer still.
He holds back as long as he can, but when her body starts pulling at him, starts sucking him deeper, he has no choice but to follow. Obi buries his face into the pillow beside her head, biting down hard in an effort to muffle himself as fire laces through every part of him. And the cold knot of ice in his chest breaks apart in some small way before he goes blind, his body jerking into hers, everything in him coming to an immediate and complete halt.
Vaguely, he feels her lips skimming his chest, her hands which had been so thoroughly fastened on him now stroking him gently. And he stumbles, he shakes, he pushes himself as deeply as he can once last time as his cock softens, before the sound of his own breath pouring harshly in and out of him can be heard by his own ears.
Obi stills, eyes clenched tight, and he thinks perhaps that he has died. He can feel himself trembling on his forearms, his body still locked in heaven, when slim fingers trace their way up his neck to cup his cheeks. A strange sense of fear overcomes him suddenly, even as he leans into those warm hands, as if opening his eyes would end this and he would find himself alone in some desolated place with only the memories of a dream rapidly slipping away from him.
He doesn’t want to wake up… he can’t.
“Obi…” he hears her voice, so soft, and he dares, he dreams, and he opens his eyes.
Shirayuki is looking up at him, her eyes so tender that he thinks he will once again break apart in her arms. “Kiss me,” she whispers, looking as lost as he feels.
He is helpless to such a request. He does as she asks, bowing his back so that he can brush his lips over hers, and she responds, oh so softly, as her body pulses gently around him still.
She’s still here, he thinks, relief washing over him as he loses himself to the tender wetness of her mouth.
Exhaustion follows that thought, overwhelming him with its totality. The fullness of this day, the preparations of these last months, and never ending yearnings spanning years suddenly take their toll on him. He sighs into her mouth and gently extracts himself from her body. She makes a small sound, objecting the loss, and he silently agrees. With half opened eyes, he scans the room and finds a bowl with water at the side of their bed.
Drained, he reaches out, grabbing a towel and wetting it before moving back over Shirayuki’s body. Her eyes are wide, dazed, and he smiles, pressing his lips to her chastely before parting her legs and sliding the cloth over her, gently cleaning her body. She flinches from the chill of the water, but otherwise remains still, letting him take care of this most tender part of her body in complete trust.
He looks back at her when he finishes, smiling and setting aside the washrag, before collapsing next to her with a moan of fatigue.
He hears her laugh beside him, and the sound dances over his skin. “Obi,” she murmurs, before he feels the coolness of a newly dampened cloth against his own skin. He can’t find it in himself to respond, no matter how much he wants to, for his body has gone numb, halfway trapped between here and sleep. He feels the blankets being pulled up his body and her small frame settling next to his.
Drunkenly, he throws an arm over her stomach, his leg sliding over hers and his lips press lightly to her neck, snuggling close. And he feels her gentle laugh wash over him just as consciousness slips away with the awareness that this… all of this… was okay.
He was safe. He was loved.
He was home.