Why didn’t I say my bed?

Why did I mention a bed at all?

Eloisa pondered these questions and many more as Caleth led her into his room. She’d been right in that the narrow door in the corner of hers adjoined their two rooms. It stuck as Caleth turned the handle, but with a little pressure, it pushed open into his room. A burst of frigid air hit Eloisa in the face, as if to sober her.

She had been a Child when she’d grown into maturity, and together she and her fellow Children had grappled with burgeoning urges that they could do little about. As they passed into the echelons of daughterhood, everyone else seemed to shed their lust like an old beetle’s carapace, but Eloisa had never stopped struggling.

Rather than ousting her lust, she had buried it. Her delusion had been that one day, somehow, she would know what it was like to sate her desires with a man.

Her fantasies had been at first sweet and beautiful things, but over the years, as her teachings and her sense of shame became more ingrained, her imaginings had become perverse. Fantasizing about a man kissing her gently and making love to her had warped into dark visions of a man stealing into her room in the night, pinning her to her bed and taking his fill of her. It had been the only way she could imagine intercourse without feeling completely ashamed of herself. If it was against her will, then the blame could not be entirely with her.

She tried to reach for the sweet dreams of her youth, but found it difficult in the cold, dark setting. As the bed loomed closer with each step, she tried in vain to predict what he would do once they arrived.

Am I doing this for power, or because I want him?

And which is worse?

The walk to his bed was over far too soon. Eloisa was shivering by the time they reached it. Though she was quite nervous, she was also confident that this time her trembling was entirely due to the cold and her near-nakedness.

She considered finding a way to ask if they could go to her bed instead, but as she glanced up at him she noticed the moonlight reflecting off the sheen of sweat on his forehead. She'd seen him perspiring while they’d been in her room. Her room, which was rather chilly to Eloisa, must have felt stifling for the frost dragon. Caleth hadn’t once complained, and she decided that if he could suffer her climate, she would do her best to endure his.

Caleth kept his hands on Eloisa’s hips as he took a seat on the edge of his bed. He pulled her close, but not quite off her feet.

“Wysrashta ka cues hanshta ka cre?”

Do you understand what—what was the rest of it?

Eloisa had forgotten about the vast language barrier between the two of them. It was something she would have to deal with, as they couldn’t very well bring pen and paper to bed. Rather than allowing it to unnerve her, she decided to view it as a blessing. If they couldn’t communicate, she wouldn’t be able to reveal how clueless she was about what they were going to do.

With a brazenness that surprised her, she reached up to wipe the sweat from Caleth’s brow. His skin was cold and smooth, and she didn’t want to stop touching it.

She couldn’t have imagined that an attraction could feel so intense. It was not merely that Caleth was handsome, although that was certainly the primary factor. However, it was also in the way that he walked and the way he held himself with calm, enviable confidence. It was in the way his presence seemed to fill any space that he was in. It was the exoticness of him—his cold touch, alabaster skin, and purring, whispering accent. It was in the way he regarded her, so gently and so fondly, while to everyone else he seemed to be a figure that inspired caution and fear.

Eloisa didn’t understand why all of that aroused her so deeply. Some of it made sense, while other things should have made her question her soundness of mind.

She certainly wasn’t in her right mind as she cupped the sides of his face and lowered her head to kiss him. As soon as their lips connected, she was startled by the sound of his growl. She might have pulled away, but his hand had gone to the back of her head, blocking her escape.

For an instant, his kiss was tender, as if to lure her into a sense of security. Then, it abruptly deepened. He pressed her closer, and she could feel the scrape of teeth against her bottom lip.

Caleth pulled her onto the bed, maneuvering her under the covers without breaking their kiss. Every so often, their lips would part for a fraction of a second, allowing them to breathe. His breath felt like ice and smelled like wine.

For a time, he only kissed her, and Eloisa had no thoughts beyond his mouth and the way it was making her feel. Even the cold couldn’t penetrate the atmosphere of heat created by her overstimulated body.

It wasn’t until his hand slipped under her blanket to rest on her bare hip that a candle was lit in another part of her mind.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

The chorus continued in her head as his hand drew a slow path up the curve of her waist and settled onto her breast. His touch felt like ice against her nipple and made her gasp.

His hand moved in a rhythmic, circular motion, squeezing and stroking her until the repetition became too familiar to feel alarming. Soon, she couldn’t help but relax under his gentle touch, and once she did, she began to crave it. She had always known that men derived pleasure from a woman’s breasts, but it had never occurred to her that she could share in that pleasure.

Eloisa had never believed the Sister’s warnings that women found no enjoyment in intercourse and that it was a painful, unpleasant experience meant to be endured, rather than reveled in. She had felt the stirrings of lust too strongly, felt the throbbing between her thighs when she entertained illicit fantasies, and knew that there was pleasure to be had in erotic stimulation.

Still, it took her by surprise just how strongly her body reacted to the knowledge that they would soon be joined. Every part of her felt more sensitive and the surface of her skin tingled with anticipation. Her sex ached and throbbed, growing damp and then wet with the warm fluids that would ease him into her passage.

As she grew more and more at ease with his touch, she began exploring him as well. At first her perusal was unintentional. Her hands, which had started their journey on his face, began a slow descent down his thick neck and across his broad shoulders. She was marveling in the way his corded muscles flexed when she realized how indulgent she was being. Her hands stilled, but only for a moment. His masculine body was so alien to her and she couldn’t resist discovering its secrets.

A point of particular fascination for her was his chest. She had always found the male chest, so broad and flat, to be strangely appealing. Caleth’s chest had far more definition than she expected. His pectorals were not entirely flat, but instead had a slight curve to them. However, they were not soft like a woman’s breasts. Pressing her thumbs into them, she found them to be hard, unyielding muscle.

Beneath his pectorals were rows of firm muscles, separated by hard lines that were perfect for drawing her fingers through. Caleth seemed to enjoy it when she touched him as such, because he would emit a purring growl that she now associated with pleasure and satisfaction.

As her hands explored ever lower, her fingers passed over the final ridge, and then down to the hard plane that led to the seam of his pants. She ran her fingers along the seam, until she found the solid edges of his hips. When her hands settled onto them, Caleth flexed his hips. They ground against hers, and she felt something hard rub against her pelvis. The sensation made her body light up with pleasure and exhilaration, and she had to break their kiss in order to suck in a breath.

While Eloisa was catching her breath, Caleth sat up and removed his shirt. She’d been so absorbed in feeling the shape of him that she’d barely registered the fact that he had been fully clothed. The sight of his bare chest, highlighted by the moonlight, was enough to make her heart shudder.

She would have been content to lay back and watch for hours, but Caleth took her by the arm and pulled her up so that she was sitting in his lap. Her blanket came off on one side and she hastily pulled it up. When she tried wrapping it around her chest, Caleth stayed her hand, making her leave it open in the front and giving him full view of her breasts with their stiffened nipples.

He brought her hand to his chest, gently encouraging her to touch him. Though she wanted to badly, she was too shy to do so while he was looking straight at her. After a moment’s debating, she placed her hand on his jaw, giving him a slight push so that his head would turn away. A smile tugged at his lips as he indulged her, going so far as to close his eyes.

Feeling at ease, Eloisa began another slow perusal of his chest, this time accentuated by the feel of his skin, which had a texture similar to her bed sheets. It was like running her fingers over cool silk that had been stretched across granite.

There was only one part of him that interested her more than his chest, and as her hands once again reached the seam of his pants, her breath caught. At the juncture of his legs, a large bulge strained against the fabric of his pants. As she stared down at it, even the nagging voice in her head went silent as if holding its breath for what she’d do next.

As her fingers began to creep downwards she alternated her gaze between her destination and Caleth’s head. His eyes remained closed and aside from a slight hitch in his breathing, he gave no bodily indication of what he was thinking. His aura, however, was drenched in a frenetic mix of excitement, passion, and anticipation.

Eloisa ran her hand along the length of his fabric-clad manhood, finding it to be quite similar to his chest. It felt rigid to the touch, but when she boldly applied pressure, she found that her fingers could make the barest indent in its firm surface.

Before she could examine it thoroughly, Caleth took her wrist in his large hand. His breathing was noticeably fast, his broad chest rising and falling in powerful breaths.

“Dajae, Eloisaja.”

She knew she’d heard the word before, but she couldn’t recall its meaning. Whatever he’d said, he’d made it clear that he didn’t want her to continue what she was doing. She felt a little apprehensive as she wondered if she’d done something he didn’t like. Caleth must have sensed this, because he immediately set to kissing her again, as if trying to reassure her with his mouth.

As he pushed her back onto the bed, his tongue went inside of her, sweeping the inside of her mouth. She hadn’t known she’d wanted him to do that until she was curling her tongue with his and relishing the deepened intimacy of their kiss.

Caleth’s hands did not return to her breasts. He had settled his body between her legs and was now massaging the inside of her thigh with one hand. It was unnerving to be spread open beneath him, but excitement won out over her fears.

Just as she had slowly worked her way down his chest, Caleth’s hand traced a steady journey down the inside of her thighs. As his hand grew ever closer to her center, Eloisa’s anticipation climbed to new heights.

She had no idea what to expect when his hand settled over her to cup her sex. He stilled in his ministrations and broke their kiss to give her a meaningful look.

“Vayt?” The question came in a cold breath across her face.

Eloisa nodded, because she couldn’t get the word past her throat. She rationalized that because she didn’t know precisely what he was asking her permission for, then she wasn’t precisely asking for him to defile her. Her faulty logic sustained her through the next phase of their lovemaking, allowing her to indulged freely in the pleasure he bestowed on her.

She had anticipated that he’d wanted to feel her, as she had wanted to feel him. Her consent had been to satisfy his curiosity, though she’d recognized that it might feel good having him touch her. That notion was dispelled from the first graze of his finger across her slippery inner folds.

It did not feel good. It felt incredible.

Her body instinctively arched into his touch and a moan tore through her chest. She had to turn away from his kiss because she could scarcely catch her breath as his fingers stroked her. Caleth didn’t seem to mind that she’d broke their kiss. His mouth moved to her neck, where he began to trail sucking, nibbling kisses down towards the juncture of her shoulder.

In all of her life, she couldn’t recall feeling such pleasure. Somehow, it continued to build, climbing to a higher intensity with each stroke of his fingers. It reached a point where his touch became almost uncomfortable, yet she knew she wouldn’t have been able to bear it if he stopped. Then, all at once, her discomfort unfurled into a rippling sensation of pure pleasure. Shocked and astounded, it was all she could do to cling to him as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her body.

It ended gradually. Each time she thought it was over, her body would quiver with another aftershock. The voice in the back of her mind tried to tell her that it was wrong, but she lent it no credence. She refused to believe that anything that felt so wonderful could be sinful.

When she opened her eyes, she found Caleth’s head on the pillow beside her. One corner of his mouth was quirked and his aura danced as much with amusement as with passion.

Had she done something silly?

He took her hand, pressed a kiss to it, and then guided it down to the flat plane of his pelvis. He rested it there and gave her a questioning look.

“Vayt?”

Was he asking if she would touch him again?

She wet her lips and nodded.

Caleth drew her hand down, and Eloisa inhaled sharply as her hand came in contact with his bare manhood. At some point when she’d been coming down from her ecstasy, Caleth had removed his pants.

She took in another breath, and then wrapped her hand around him. She got the same impression as before—silken skin over a hard interior. It could have just been a fault in memory, but she thought he felt even harder now.

Although he was cool to the touch, his phallus was notably warmer than the rest of his body, and she remembered what Lidia had told her about frostkind males. Would being inside of her bring him more pleasure than being with a female of his own kind? Eloisa hoped so. She wanted badly to satisfy him, not for any underhanded reasons, but to return the gift he’d given to her.

Running her hand along the full length of him, she found him to be unexpectedly long and thick. Eloisa had to look down, her brows lifting when she saw what was in her hand.

The only phallus she’d ever seen was in a depiction in a book on anatomy. Apparently, in days past there had been some debate among the Sisters whether or not to include images of the male form as part of curriculum, but High Maiden Ionia had ruled that it was necessary for them to be aware of it so as to remove its mystique.

In the depiction, which had been forever seared into her mind, the phallus had been smallish and curled. She remembered someone in class remarking that it looked like a sausage link. From the brief reading they’d done on the mechanics of intercourse, she knew that upon arousal it would fill with blood, lengthening and hardening to prepare for insertion.

Eloisa had no idea that it could grow to be this long, or so thick that she couldn’t properly get her hand around it. She tried to imagine how it was meant to fit inside of her, but her mind struggled with the image. Perhaps it had something to do with their different races. Did frostkind females have larger passages that could better accommodate their males?

“Will it hurt?” she asked, looking up at him.

Caleth’s eyes had been closed, but at her question, they opened. She knew he didn’t understand and she wasn’t sure how to ask in Cal’derache. She also knew that the answer didn’t matter. If he was to be her husband, they would have to figure it out. Besides, it was not as if she was a stranger to pain.

He began kissing her again and easing himself back on top of her, their naked bodies pressed together. While her heart beat a nervous cadence, the lower half of her body thrummed with anticipation as Caleth lifted a leg and positioned himself at her entrance.

Caleth closed his eyes and exhaled. “Vayt?”

Why, why, why couldn’t he just do it? Why did he have to ask her at every stage, thus making her an accessory to her own defilement—which she very much was, but gods damn it all, couldn’t he just put it into her?

“Please,” she said. “Talsyr.”

He kissed her again, his lips remaining locked with hers as he slowly eased into her virgin passage. Eloisa felt several things in quick succession—pleasure, and then pain, and then a strange mix of the two, coupled with a sense of fulfillment as he settled himself deep within her.

More so than anything else, she had the sense of being released from a heavy burden. She had believed that her veil had been her final remnant of her time in the tower, but now she recognized that it had been this, her maidenhood. She could see now that the fear she'd had over losing it had been part of a delusion, the delusion she’d buried when she’d first stepped into the palanquin that would take her away from the only home she’d known in a century.

Although she’d become worldly, and High Maiden Ionia had told her she would never return, Eloisa had still, deep down, believed that a grave error had been made and that as soon as it was righted, she would return to the tower, and to her little room with Selia.

Now, it was all well and truly behind her. She could never go back, and that made her want to weep and to cry out in relief. Eloisa did neither. Instead, she surrendered herself to the pleasure of being taken by a man.

As Caleth began moving inside of her, Eloisa had no confusion about what to do. Just as with his kisses and with his touch, Caleth began in a slow rhythm, waited for her to adjust, and then gradually increased his pace. She didn’t worry that she wasn’t pleasing him. His aura, his face, and the sounds he made painted a clear picture of a man in the midst of rapture.

The discomfort subsided quickly, and soon she was sharing in his pleasure. Her body became a slave to impulses—the flexing of her hips, the curling of her toes, and her eyes rolling back in her head. She felt herself soaring towards another peak as Caleth groaned foreign words into her ear.

This time when her pleasure reached its zenith, it was accompanied by the feeling of him thrusting his hard length in and out of her. It made the sensation all the more intense. She drew in a deep breath and released it in a whimpering moan. Caleth thrust harder in response, drawing her pleasure out until Eloisa’s body seized up and she could hear nothing but a low, ringing noise in her ears.

Abruptly, Caleth went rigid inside of her. Eloisa was pulled from her stupor as icy seed pulsed into her belly. She shivered and clutched his shoulders, as if his cold body could somehow offer respite from her sudden chill.

For a few moments, nothing was said and Eloisa began to wonder if it was over, or if it was simply an interlude in their lovemaking. She hoped for the former, only because she didn’t think she could do it all again, at least not that night.

Caleth rolled onto his side with a groan, one hand on Eloisa’s hip to keep them joined. With his other hand he worked to cover her with her blanket, but it was no use. She was cold inside and out.

“Vasashta?” he asked, brushing hair from her slick forehead.

His aura was back to its empyrean color, but with contented undertones.

“F-Fresun,” she told him, her teeth chattering.

Smiling, he kissed the bridge of her nose, and then in a quick motion, scooped her up into his arms and off of the bed. Eloisa yelped and grabbed his shoulders. To her amazement, he managed to get up and begin walking, all while keeping himself nestled inside of her.

Moments later they were in her room, laying side by side on her bed. To her front, Eloisa could feel the blissful warmth that emanated from the fireplace. Pressed against her back, Caleth’s cold skin chilled her.

“Aren’t you hot?” she asked as he pulled the covers up around her. “Tresun?”

She was afraid that by asking, he would realize how uncomfortable he was and then depart. She desperately wanted him to stay, not only because it felt good to be in his arms, but also because she was afraid of where her mind might go if he left her.

Whether he recognized her need for him to stay, or he genuinely preferred being by her side in spite of the heat, Caleth continued holding her. He murmured words against her hair. Though utterly foreign to her ears, they had a gentle cadence that carried her towards a dreamless sleep.

The first time Eloisa woke, it was to Caleth rising from bed. She had no awareness of how long she’d been resting, but her heavy eyelids told her that it was still evening.

He climbed over her, and after rubbing her bleary eyes, Eloisa could see that his back was slick with sweat. She watched him go to the table, paying more attention to his naked body than to what he was doing.

After gathering up the papers they’d been writing on, he carried them over to the fire, tore them in half, and then tossed them into the flames. It was a precaution she would not have thought of, particularly because they’d been writing in a defunct language.

He watched the fire for a moment, making certain that the papers were thoroughly crisped. When he came back to the bed, he didn’t climb in but instead sat on the edge. The mattress dipped under the weight of his large body.

Long fingers ran through her hair. As Eloisa peered up at him through her lashes, Caleth bent to press a kiss to the side of her face, and then a second, closer to her ear.

“Kesacre,” he whispered.

Giving her hair one final stroke, Caleth stood. Before Eloisa could think of an appropriate response in Cal’derache, he was departing. Her eyes fell shut as the door clicked behind Caleth, and she was soon back to sleeping.

The encounter had a dreamlike quality to it, but when she woke again the first thing she noticed was that the papers were gone from the desk. Sitting up in her bed, she saw that the sun was looming at the horizon, whether rising or setting, she had no way of knowing.

She must have been roused by the sense of someone’s approach, because a moment later she noticed footsteps and then the sound of someone knocking at her door.

“Come in,” Eloisa said after covering herself.

Lidia opened the door and stepped in. She looked straight at Eloisa, her thick brows lifting.

“Ma’am,” was all she said.

Suddenly, Eloisa felt foolish for trying to hide her nakedness. Lidia was not so human that she wouldn’t be able to smell what they’d done.

“Good morning, Lidia,” Eloisa said sheepishly.

She wasn’t ashamed that she’d shared her body with Caleth, at least not in regards to her faith. She was, however, quite embarrassed to have done so before their wedding. Although she knew that the Cal’derache did not find such things to be improper, Eloisa’s Atolian sensibilities had her blushing.

“Your neck,” Lidia said.

Frowning, Eloisa ran a hand along the curve of her neck, finding it to be sore, but otherwise fine.

As Eloisa checked herself, Lidia went to the desk and grabbed a hand mirror. When she returned to the bed with it, Eloisa flinched away from her reflection, as she always did on reflex. When she realized what she’d done, she forced herself to turn and look into the mirror. As she saw her neck, her mouth popped open. Bruises of purple and red ran the length of her neck on both sides.

“What in the heavens?” she said, pressing a finger against one.

“I take it the sovereign did those?” Lidia asked.

Had he? She remembered him sucking on her neck, but to the extent that she bruised?

“It didn’t hurt,” Eloisa said.

“Then, you enjoyed it?”

Eloisa could see that her face was scrunched with worry, and she realized Lidia’s true concern.

“What we did last night… It was my choice.”

Somehow, admitting that she’d liked it felt even more sinful than admitting it had been her decision.

“How long until these go away?” Eloisa asked.

“With as fast as you heal, I doubt they’ll last more than a day.”

Lidia still looked concerned, and Eloisa wondered if she wasn’t convinced of what Eloisa had told her. Eloisa, herself, could hardly believe she’d told Caleth to take her to bed, but she was glad that she had.

“What is it?” she asked.

Lidia said, “Did he see your back?”

“Oh.” Eloisa touched a hand to her back, her fingers moving across the uneven skin. “He did, yes.”

“And?” Lidia leaned in closer. “What did he say? How did you explain it?”

Deliberating for a fraction of a second, Eloisa came to a decision. She had already broken the largest of her vows, and breaking one more was surprisingly easy.

“I led him to believe that I was abducted as a girl. That the reason my father had never forced me to marry was because of my scars. It was easy enough to fabricate. Jedora was translating. She kept flinging assumptions at me until one stuck.”

Lidia let out a breath. “Oh, Gods, I can’t believe you managed without lying. You’re sure he believed it?”

“It seems so,” Eloisa said, feeling only the smallest pang of guilt.

Last night, when she’d been conversing with Caleth in Ye’derache, it had occurred to her that the things they were talking about would need to stay between the two of them. As much as she valued Lidia, her maid worked for Milara and Lusia, two figures that Eloisa had no idea if she could trust.

If she told Lidia that Caleth knew about her time in the tower, then it would follow that he knew about her aurasight. From there, it would be a short leap to realizing that he intended to use her powers to further his conquests, knowledge that could be dangerous in the hands of anyone, and had the potential to put her life and Caleth’s plans in jeopardy.

Eloisa still wasn’t sure how she felt about being his agent—his spy in plain sight. But she did know that he hadn’t been lying when he’d told her that he would cherish her. She knew that in a short time, her feelings for him had already blossomed into something stronger and more compelling than she could have ever hoped for.

She also knew that with or without her, Caleth would one day rule the world. And so long as she was at his side, she would do everything in her power to ensure that he was a just and benevolent ruler. Perhaps that was the true reason she had come to be his bride.