moonshadows

“Tari? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” I keep my eyes firmly on his. “I want this.”

His eyebrows pucker with concern as he guides me step by careful step into his bedroom, both hands gripping his tightly. Although it seems from our positions as though he is leading me, he does not take a step backwards until I have taken one forwards. When we reach the broad, curtained bed, he pauses.

“How do you want to…?”

I drop his hands and clutch the ties to my dressing gown. Beneath it, I am naked. “Turn around.” When he has done so, I say, “Take off your tunic.”

His back is broadly muscled, very smooth, and I want to run my fingers over it – so I do. That only makes me want to press myself against him, and whips the turbulent emotions in my heart until they threaten to overwhelm me. I back away.

“Put it back on.”

No doubt he hears the edge of panic in my voice, because he does not comment as he again covers his torso in soft cotton. The hem goes to halfway down his thighs; long enough that it will hide his essentials easily.

“Your trews.”

A moment of fumbling with the drawstring, and they slip off his hips to form a cotton puddle around his ankles. What I can see of his legs are equally muscled. He stands there silently, waiting for my next command, repressing his own desires so that he does not risk upsetting me. Just as he has done for the last six months. I lick my lips, fighting down panic.

“Climb into bed.”

I close my eyes until the rustling stops, almost afraid to open them. When I peek through my eyelashes, Varian is laying on his side facing me, far enough away on the bed that – as before – we can be nearly arm’s length apart. Most importantly, he has tugged the hem of his tunic down so that he is modestly covered. Slowly, I climb into bed and lay down facing him, still clutching the ties to my gown. Although his eyes lavish molten devotion on me, he does not move or speak. For a long minute we lay like that, until the thought of undoing my dressing gown does not make terror claw at my throat. Slowly, I tug the last barrier between my naked flesh and his eyes, and the cloth falls to half-reveal me. Varian tries to keep his eyes on mine, but at least twice they dart down to lavish a different kind of molten desire on me. I can feel my face getting red, through shame or anger or a combination of the two.

His own face coloring, Varian locks eyes with me again. "I'm sorry. You're uncomfortable." At my mute nod, he extends one hand slowly and waits for me to take it. "It's okay. We can wait."

"I don't want to," I whisper, cheeks burning. "I want you to...but I keep remembering Blackmoore doing the same things I want you to do."

"Shhh, Tari. Bin mog g'thazag cha." Eyes anguished, he brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. "Did he ever...touch you? There?"

My thighs rub together at the thought of a man's fingers between them. "No." My voice is very quiet.

Somehow, that makes him look even more concerned, and just a little outraged. "Tari...did he ever..." Varian bites his lip, scars pale against his flushed face. "Did he ever make you feel that...oh, Light." His face pales. "Tari. Tell me he was not so rough with you that the experience was never anything but pain."

"No." My eyes drop to our entwined hands. "That's what made it so bad. I hated him, hated that he stripped me of my dignity, made me helpless...but I hated even more that it felt good. A part of me wanted it, even though it came with pain and humiliation."

I bite my lip, keeping tears at bay, and his hand squeezes mine gently.

"Shh, Tari. It's okay. I will never do anything like that to you. Bin mog g'thazag cha."

"Varian..." I close my eyes, but the tears slip out anyway.

"Tari?" It sounds as though his heart is breaking, but he does not move except to hold my hand tighter.

"I trust you." The words are hardly more than a choked whisper, but it's true. He has demonstrated time and time again that he will not knowingly violate my boundaries and make me feel helpless. I can trust that he will be the gentleman that Blackmoore was not.

It terrifies me, letting those barriers down.

"I will protect you, Tari. I love you."

I become aware that he has been chanting those two orcish phrases, thumb brushing the backs of my fingers. When I blink my eyes clear and look at him again, he gives me a relieved smile. Yet again, he has demonstrated that he will not take any kind of advantage over me or force himself on me, even to provide comfort.

"Tari?" His voice is warm and strong. "Did he ever give you pleasure that felt like a wave breaking over you?"

"No," I say, a little uncertainly.

His face lights up. "Then I can do something that he didn't...if you'll let me."

I'm intrigued. "How?"

He holds up his other hand and wiggles his fingers slightly. "I won't get any closer to you than this. All I'll do is touch you. If I make you feel anything but good, tell me and I'll stop. Okay?"

The thought of experiencing pleasure without the indignity of sex is a heady one. My thighs move slightly, giving him access to what they guard. He reaches down slowly, eyes on mine, and although I initially flinch when his fingers brush my skin, I am not afraid. The look of distant worship in his eyes reassures me. I can feel his fingers - warm, rough, and strong - gently probing my moist folds for something. I don't know what he's looking for, but I know when he finds it. My breath catches as a spark of incandescent pleasure flares briefly.

Varian smiles, tender joy at my expression, and his fingers twitch again. Almost before the spark has faded they move a third time, and a quiet 'oh' escapes my lips. He watches my expression as the sensation fades, eyes searching my face. Whatever he finds must meet with his approval, because his fingers start a slow, steady rhythm, coaxing pleasure out of my flesh with all the skill of a harpist producing a cascade of delicate notes. My eyes flutter closed, both hands clinging to his other wrist. The last thing I see before I surrender to the sensations he evokes is that look of molten adoration.

It's not long before I can feel the wave he mentioned building. My breath comes in sips and whimpers, little sounds of pleasure exhaled, wordlessly begging for that wave to break over me. My hips buck sporadically, pressing his fingers more firmly against my flesh. I can feel it coming, something wonderful and delicious and-

"Varian!"

My voice is high and tight, longing and fearful all at once in the face of the loss of control that trembles just out of reach. It drives me mad, hovering there in front of me, and then the wave breaks. The whimpered exhalation becomes a desperate cry, hips bucking frantically against his hand as pleasure ripples out from between my legs. The wave passes, leaving me limp. A few residual convulsions echo the marvelous experience as his hand withdraws.

"Varian..."

There are no words with which to follow his name. I am filled with heavy warmth, the afterglow of that incandescent pleasure. Languidly, I open my eyes and find him tense, strained like a hunting hound awaiting the command to leap into blinding speed. Concern flickers across my features.

"Shh, Tari, it's okay." He forces a smile. "You're beautiful. I want to hold you, but I don't want to scare you."

My husband, the man who loves me so much that my wishes are his commands. "Hold me," I breathe, and in a flash I am being crushed against his chest.

"Tari," he moans, shuddering.

I work one hand free and run it through his wild hair. "Varian. Kiss me?"

He pulls back enough for me to lift my face to his and he kisses me with tightly-controlled passion, worshiping me with gentle lips.

"I love you," I breathe, looking up at him through my lashes so that he can see the truth of it in my eyes.

Varian smiles at me as though fighting back tears. "Well, my lady wife, I trust that was something Blackmoore never did?"

The hand in his hair pulls his head back down for a lingering kiss. "No, he never did that. I love you, Varian." When I shift and feel his hardness against my hip, the source of his strain becomes clear. "Varian?"

He looks embarrassed and determined at being caught this way. "Don't worry about it."

"But-" He did such marvelous things to me, shouldn't I give him some compensation?

The hand that was in his hair slides down his arm, down his side to his hip where he captures my wrist, bringing my hand back up to be kissed.

"None of that, my lady."

"...but..."

"That was a gift," he says huskily. "I don't want you to feel that you have to pay in any way for feeling wonderful." He smiles again, but it's still strained. "Please, Tari. Let me do this one nice thing for you. Let me prove that I am not ruled by my base desires."

The idea that a man could be pleading for me to not perform the sexual act he so painfully desires is startling. "Varian...are you sure?"

"Oh, Tari." He holds me close, breath stirring my hair. "My lovely lady wife. I would have given you this gift every night of our marriage if you had let me, and taken your expression as my only reward." He pulls back enough to lay another gentle kiss on my lips. "You being comfortable with everything is far more important to me than my physical comfort. Besides," he adds with a crooked grin, "I know better than to think I'll have any say in it once you are comfortable with everything."

That makes me laugh. He's right, of course. Until Blackmoore has been entirely banished from our bed, I will be content to let him pamper me. After that...

I nestle closer and smile into the cotton covering his chest.

...after that, as with most everything else, my wishes will be his commands.