He kissed her sweetly, and she returned each one with trembling hands, passing over his hard, bare chest. She remembered him the day she had found him, his bare body, streaked with ash, and the way his manhood had curved between his legs. Large. In her innocence, she had nothing to compare it to; however, everything about him was larger than life itself, of course, that aspect would be as well.
Her thighs cradled his hips, and she felt him against her heat, and gasped, locking up. He shushed her, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her cheeks and jaw, as if to chase away her fear.
"I am owed nothing from you, Vesperin," Atlas murmured.
She shook her head, hair spilling around her like a dark halo on the furs. "I want you. Forgive me, I am nervous." She bit her swollen lower lip. "I do not know?—"
Her words became a gasp as his hand trailed between them. She felt his fingers between her legs, touching her in a place no one had ever touched before. His touch was soft, yet it made her feel like she was a spinning Star in the galaxy.
He explored a place she had no idea had ever existed on her body.
She gasped and trembled, and when she felt like she was being stretched in a million different directions, she arched upwards. "Atlas! What is this feeling?"
"Do not think—just feel."
She was forced higher, until she shattered and fell like he had on the day they met. Pleasure curled her toes and made her chest heave as it crested over her.
She sagged. This was the moonlit darkness of intimacy that she had only heard of in whispers. Now she knew.
Something nudged against her again—larger than his fingers.
He stared deeply into her eyes. "Breathe for me."
She took a deep breath.
He pushed inside her, and it felt like, for one heart-achingly beautiful moment, that everything was right and he was hers and this was theirs and they had forever.
But forever was a lie.
It might be, but this, at least, was not.
As he moved within her, she gasped, fingers curling into his chest. She felt his breath against her neck as his head fell to her shoulders.
The feel of him inside her made a part of her ache. It was the most intimate thing she had ever experienced—and it was with him, which made it all the more precious to her.
He pulled away, and she gasped, hands curling against his forearms, as if to stop him from leaving.
"Don’t—" she gasped. "Stay."
He stilled, hands framing her cheeks. His black eyes revealed her reflection. Through his eyes, she saw herself. Her wide-eyed gaze, swollen lips, and flushed cheeks. He blinked, and the illusion fractured.
Atlas pressed his lips to hers. "I’m never leaving you, Star of mine."
She nodded, tears obscuring her vision. "I am sorry. I don’t know why I’m so emotional."
"Don’t ever apologize for being you—for your soft, sweet heart."
She tensed as he pulled away from within her, but the way he held her cheeks and kept her face up, directed to him, grounded her. She melted as he sank back into her, chasing away the feelings of emptiness.
She found herself approaching that precipice once more, but it was slower this time. A gradual crescendo that was shared between them. Each trembling gasp she made, he echoed in tune, masculine and deep.
She felt a pulse deep inside her, then a wash of warmth, coating her insides, just as she was forced over the edge, rippling around him.
He held her tight, crushing her to him.
Still inside her, he whispered, "You are mine."
The cold gaveway to warmth. The flowers returned to the meadow. The snow in the crater melted, the dark edges softened with grass, yet it never did return to its splendor of vibrancy, as if forever marred by Atlas’s arrival. The tiny bloom in the blackened edge of the crater reached her knees now. It was a grey and black flower, strangely solemn for such a pretty place.
