Everest POV
His heart pounded like a wild drum in his chest, and his breath grew heavy with anticipation.
His hands trembled as he slowly slid the last piece of fabric from her body, guiding it gently down the length of her soft, silken legs before letting it fall to the floor.
Then, needing a moment, Everest shifted off the bed and took a deep, grounding breath. His fingers fumbled slightly as he began to unbutton his trousers. He had been with a woman before—but this... this was different. Willow wasn't just any woman. She was everything. She felt like something sacred. A goddess wrapped in moonlight. And he was terrified—not of her, but of not being enough for her.
When he looked up, she was still lying there, bare and glowing in the soft light, her hands covered her breast.
She was waiting. Trusting him. And he knew that if he took the next step, there would be no going back.
He wasn't supposed to do this—not before the elven ceremony. It was considered a sin to lay with the bride before the bond was sanctified. If this come out and the Eleven orders know he would be in big trouble.
But seeing her like this—so raw, so innocent, so open—undid every ounce of restraint he had.
Silently, he removed his boots and socks, then pushed his trousers and undergarments down. He stood bare, vulnerable in his own right, then climbed back onto the bed, slowly guiding her legs apart so he could settle between them.
He braced his weight with one arm beside her head, careful not to press fully onto her. His eyes met hers—hazel-green and glistening with emotion. He'd never seen them shine so brightly.
"I'll go slow," he whispered softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear with gentle fingers.
"Will it hurt?" Willow asked, her voice fragile and uncertain.
Everest inhaled deeply, letting his gaze hold hers. "It'll be a different kind of burn," he admitted. "But after... it becomes something deeper. Something beautiful."
She nodded and nervously licked her lips, her breath shallow. He could see the fear in her eyes—but also the trust. And that trust meant everything.
Determined to make sure she was ready, Everest let his hand trail slowly down her body, feeling every curve, every quiver beneath his touch. When he reached her hips, his fingers moved gently over her folds, slick and warm beneath his fingertips.
A breath escaped him—low and shaken. "You're so wet," he murmured, voice thick with awe and desire.
Willow met his gaze, her eyes wide and unsure, but she didn't pull away. She was letting him in.
With careful intention, he slipped one finger inside her. She gasped, a soft moan leaving her lips. Her hips moved slightly in response, her body tensing and adjusting around him.
He watched her reaction closely, wanting to learn her, to memorize every part of how she responded to him. Slowly, he moved his finger in and out, then added a second, coaxing her to relax and open to him. She was tight—so tight—and he didn't want to rush her.
Her moans grew more urgent as he continued, her breath catching each time he curled his fingers just right. Her hands clung to his upper arm, her nails digging into his skin as pleasure washed over her in waves.
Then, her body arched. Her lips parted in a trembling moan, her features softening as she reached the peak of her climax, and for a moment, it felt as though the world stood still.
She slowly relaxed beneath him, breathless and glowing, and when she opened her eyes, a shy smile curved her lips.
"Did you like it?" Everest asked with a quiet, playful grin, brushing a thumb across her cheek.
Willow nodded, her cheeks flushed, her hazel-green eyes still dazed with wonder.
"Yes," she whispered, licking her lips. "Very much."
Everest slowly withdrew his fingers from her, glistening with her readiness. The sight stirred something deep in him—an ache to be closer, to give her all of him, and to receive her in return.
He shifted, positioning himself between her legs, every movement deliberate, reverent. His eyes locked with hers, holding the moment still.
"I want all of you," he whispered, voice thick with emotion, his gaze searching hers as though asking for permission, not just for her body, but for her trust.
Willow swallowed hard and gave a nervous nod, her lips parting as she breathed in slowly. She licked them again, her body trembling slightly beneath him. Still, she didn't pull away.
With one hand, Everest n reached down, guiding his hardened length toward her warmth. The soft brush of her curls against his skin sent a shiver up his spine. Gently, he let himself graze her folds with his tip, watching her face carefully for her reaction.
A soft moan slipped from her lips, and her hips shifted instinctively toward him.
His heart thundered. She was ready—more than ready—and he knew he would carry the memory of this moment for the rest of his life.
Slowly, he pressed into her heat, just enough to feel the tightness of her walls surrounding his hardness.
Her lips parted slightly, her breath catching. He moved carefully, inch by inch, feeling her stretch around him. When he reached the barrier of her innocence, he paused, eyes searching hers once again.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with concern.
Willow's gaze didn't waver. Her cheeks were as red as ripe tomatoes, her lips flushed a delicate rose, and yet she nodded with quiet courage. "Yes," she whispered.
She was beautiful—so heartbreakingly beautiful—and the way she looked up at him made him ache with tenderness and want. His body was trembling, heart hammering like a wild thing in his chest. He could barely hold himself back.
He began to move slowly, easing in only halfway, giving her time to adjust to the intensity of his emotions. Her warmth, her wetness, the way her body instinctively welcomed him—it overwhelmed every part of his senses.
Her walls tightened around him, slick and soft, and he could feel her gradually relax, her hips shifting gently as he rocked into her with care. He kept his pace slow, savoring their closeness, wanting to make this moment as beautiful for her as it was for him.
Leaning in, he brushed his lips softly over hers, then deepened the kiss—tender and full of longing. Their bodies moved together in quiet rhythm, breaths mingling, her soft whimpers dancing in the air, accompanied by the gentle crackling of the fire glowing behind them.
As he moved within her, she slowly began to meet his rhythm, her hips lifting with his in perfect harmony. Her breathing grew heavier between their kisses, and he let his lips leave hers to give her room to breathe, still keeping only half of himself inside her. His hand found her breast, warm and full in his palm, and he cherished it gently. Her nipple was soft and sensitive against his touch, making his heart race at her body's response.
He wanted all of her.
He wanted her to cry out his name when she reached her pleasure—but first, he wanted to taste her.
Just as she was about to fully take him in, he paused.
Her brows furrowed, and he saw the question in her eyes. With a teasing smile, he whispered, "I want to taste you."
He gently released her breast and slowly withdrew from her warmth. He kissed his way down her body, until he was between her legs, spreading them slightly wider with reverence and awe.
His gaze fell upon the soft dark curls around her pelvis—a woman untouched. He felt honored to be the first to love her this way.
Slowly, he leaned in, breathing in her scent—earthy and sweet, mingled with the faint salt of her skin. Resting his hands on her upper thighs, he brought his lips to her glistening folds. As he found the most sensitive part of her, he began to kiss and gently suck, savoring her, learning her. Her taste was intoxicating—soft, feminine, and warm like the sea after a storm.
Willow's body responded almost instantly, arching toward his mouth. He kept going, lips and tongue working her with growing hunger, wanting to give her as much pleasure as her body could hold. He had waited for this—waited for her—for what felt like an eternity.
As he sucked her gently, one of his hands slipped from her thigh and he brought two fingers to her slick entrance, sliding them inside her. Her moans grew heavier, sweeter, as he matched the movement of his fingers with the rhythm of his mouth.
"Everest ," she gasped, his name falling from her lips like a prayer.
Her breath came in quick waves, and her back arched again. He knew she was close. He moved with purpose, thrusting his fingers deeper, sucking harder on her clit until he felt her tighten around him. She cried out, her voice soft and feminine, as the climax overtook her.
He looked up and saw her moaning, trembling with release. But he wasn't done—not yet.
With tender urgency, he moved over her once more, guiding himself back into her with one hand. Her eyes, wide and shining with emotion, met his. Her body was still trembling from the high of her climax.
While she was still catching her breath, he pressed gently into her again—this time, going deeper. He went halfway first, then all the way in, pushing gently through the barrier within her. Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip as she took him in.
He paused for a breath, aching at the raw beauty of the moment—of being her first.
Leaning closer, concern flickering in his gaze, he whispered, "Are you okay?"
Willow nodded, her lips parted, her breath unsteady. She looked up at him, then bit her lower lip again.
"The way you bite your lip…" he murmured, voice trembling with desire, "it makes me want to lose myself in you."
Unable to hold back, he captured her lips again, kissing her with fire and passion. She was so tight, so warm—it made his body burn with need. Their tongues met in a deep kiss, and he tasted her sweetness—like warm honey on his tongue.
He couldn't get enough of her.
As he continued, he felt himself nearing the edge. His breath grew heavy, and he broke the kiss as he pressed deeper into her, needing to look into her eyes.
He reached for her hand, lifting it above her head and threading his fingers through hers, pinning it softly to the pillow. His other hand steadied her hip as he thrust deeper, each movement more intense than the last.
Their eyes locked—hers wide and wild, his filled with devotion.
She cried out again, a deeper, more intimate moan, full of vulnerability and longing. He knew she'd reached another climax—this one even more powerful than the first.
It wasn't long before he felt his own body trembling as his climax tore through him. He held her tightly, buried himself inside her, and spilled everything into her warmth, every heartbeat, every longing, every unspoken word.
Then, trembling, he collapsed gently onto her, resting his head against her shoulder, holding her close—finally whole, finally hers.
Mathew POV
As night fell, Mathew stood on the castle balcony, trying to catch his breath. The day before his coronation had drained him—he'd spent the entire day organizing, fixing the gate, and running from one task to the next. His hands still carried the scent of iron and grease, and he knew he needed a long, hot shower to wash it all away.
There was so much resting on his shoulders as the future king. A weight heavy enough to press on his chest. He had to prove himself—not just to his father, but to an entire kingdom. He couldn't afford to fail them now.
He gazed up at the darkened sky. In the distance, he spotted a wisp of smoke—perhaps someone had lit a fire, he thought. The stars tonight were scattered across the heavens like glowing embers, distant but steady. Down below, the kingdom glimmered with light.
He could see the soft, golden glow from the homes spread across the hills, each flickering window a sign of life, family, warmth.
Mathew leaned forward, resting his arms on the cold gray stone of the balcony. The chill kissed his skin, but his thoughts wandered deeper.
He wondered what his life would be like as king—what it would mean to come home each night to a wife, to a family of his own. He had often imagined it, the quiet joy of love and legacy. He wondered what kind of father he would be.
But first… he had to meet the right woman.
He'd been with women before, but they were fleeting moments—flings that came and went, leaving no real mark on his heart. None had stayed. None had felt like home.
He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool night air, his eyes still locked on the land that would soon be his to rule. Tomorrow, this entire kingdom would look to him. He would be responsible for them all—thousands of lives, hearts, and hopes.
It was time to prepare.
He needed rest. He needed peace. So, with a final look at the starlit horizon, Mathew turned and walked back inside, ready to wash the day away and let sleep carry him into the dawn of his greatest journey yet.