What followed was unlike anything Evelyn had ever experienced. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles, teasing her, building her pleasure until she trembled beneath him. Every stroke of his tongue unraveled her, every low groan from his throat made her clench tighter around the helpless moans she could no longer hold in.
Heat pooled deep inside her. She twisted beneath him, her hands tangling in his hair. Her cries echoed off the walls of the chamber.
She shattered.
The pleasure hit her like lightning bright, violent and all-consuming. Her thighs quivered around his head, her hands clawing at the sheets, her breath breaking on his name.
When she opened her eyes, she was panting, dazed, her body flushed and spent.
Nathaniel rose from between her legs, his mouth slick, his eyes burning. "Your first lesson," he said, voice dark and amused, "is that surrender does not mean weakness."
She couldn't reply. She could barely think.
But she felt it, the crack in her defenses, the part of her that had begun to unravel beneath his hands. This wasn't the marriage she'd been promised.
It was something else.
Something different. And intoxicating.
He undressed fully now, revealing the powerful body she'd only caught glimpses of in candlelight. Broad shoulders. A chiseled abdomen. Strong hands that had just undone her so easily.
He climbed over her, positioning himself between her legs. She felt the weight of him, the heat. Her pulse stuttered.
"This," he said, "will hurt the first time. But I promise you, Evelyn... I will make you remember it."
She swallowed hard.
"Look at me."
She did.
And he entered her with a single thrust.
Pain lanced through her, and she cried out, half gasp, half sob. He didn't move for a moment, letting her adjust. His fingers brushed hair from her face. For the first time since entering the room, there was a flicker of something almost gentle in his eyes.
"You're sweet," he said, voice low. "So much sweeter than I thought."
When he moved, it was slow, deep and controlled, each thrust deliberate. The pain faded, replaced by something else. Heat. Fullness. The strange, building pressure that returned far sooner than she'd expected. His hand found hers, fingers lacing tight as their bodies met again and again.
Soon, the pace shifted, primal need taking over. His hips rolled with fierce rhythm, and her legs wrapped around his waist as she urged him deeper. Every thrust made her cry out, not just from the pleasure but from the overwhelming intimacy.
He looked down at her as they moved together, hair damp with sweat, jaw clenched, his gaze dark and hungry.
"Evelyn," he rasped. "You're mine now. Do you understand that?"
"Yes," she whispered, dizzy. "Yes..."
Her second release came with a cry of his name, her nails digging into his back.
He claimed her again and again, each motion stirring something inside her she had never dared awaken.
By the time he reached his climax, groaning her name against her neck. Evelyn no longer knew if she had given herself or been taken.
All she knew was that something inside her had changed.
Evelyn lay utterly still beneath the silk canopy, her limbs heavy, her senses dulled by everything she'd just endured and felt.
The fire still crackled in the hearth, its light flickering across the high ceiling, casting golden shadows that danced like spirits.
Nathaniel's body, still half-draped over hers, rose and fell with his breath. He hadn't moved since he finished. He hadn't spoken.
Neither had she.
She stared at the ceiling, dazed, her chest tight with unfamiliar emotion. She didn't know what to name it; shock, confusion, ache, awe? All of it. None of it. Her body was no longer her own; it was his imprint now. Branded. Changed.
She hadn't cried. She hadn't screamed. But she had felt it the moment her innocence cracked open like a shell and something wild and molten spilled out.
It hadn't been gentle.
It hadn't been tender.
But it had been... real.
And terrifying.
Nathaniel shifted, propping himself on one elbow. His gaze found her face in the low light, unreadable as ever.
"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly.
She startled. She hadn't expected the softness. "A little."
He watched her. She could feel the weight of his scrutiny, heavier than his touch.
"You were brave," he said.
She frowned at that. "I didn't feel brave."
"No one does in the beginning." He reached out, brushing a thumb along her jaw. "But you didn't break."
She turned her face away. "Is that what you expected?"
"To break you?" His voice was mild, but something dangerous curled beneath the surface. "No, Evelyn. If I wanted a woman who would shatter, I'd have married someone else."
Her chest rose on a shaky breath.
"Then what do you want?" she asked.
He paused. "Everything."
That single word cracked her open in a new way. She stared at him, lips parted.
"Everything?" she repeated.
"You. As you are. And as you'll become." His thumb skimmed lower, down the curve of her throat. "I married you for more than name and duty, Evelyn. I knew there was fire in you."
She didn't answer. She didn't trust her voice.
Nathaniel moved away from her at last, rising from the bed and walking to the hearth. She turned her head slightly to watch him; broad shoulders, bare back, scars slashing across skin he otherwise wore like armor.
She blinked. "What are those?"
He paused at the fire, not looking at her. "Reminders."
"Of what?"
"That no one escapes the past unmarked."
She sat up slowly, pulling the sheets to her chest. "You speak in riddles."
"I speak in caution," he said.
Silence stretched between them again, taut and uneasy. She didn't know whether to ask him to stay or leave. She didn't even know what she wanted anymore.
Finally, he turned and crossed the room again, pulling the heavy bedcovers over her and tucking them close. His hand lingered at her temple, brushing her damp hair back from her brow.
"I'll leave you to rest," he said.
She grabbed his wrist without thinking. "Wait."
He stilled.
"I don't know what you've done to me," she said, her voice low. "I don't even know who I am anymore."
He studied her. "That's because you're only beginning to discover her."
Then, without another word, he stepped back, dressed swiftly in his robe, and left the room. The door clicked softly shut behind him.
Evelyn stared at the ceiling once more, heart pounding in the quiet.
She felt raw. Awake.
And though she couldn't say why, she missed him the second he was gone.