Memory Lane

Chapter Six

NSFW

Trigger warning for mentions of SA/trauma

C H A P T E R   S I X

"You must be the best judge of your own happiness."

― Jane Austen, Emma

"You're certain," Azriel asked her.

Gwyn let her eyes rake over him, taking in the hard lines of his bare chest and the way his sleeping trousers hung low on his hips. Fiddling with the tie of her silk dressing gown, she swallowed, trying to wet her dry throat so that she could answer him.

"I'm certain," Gwyn said, mastering herself.

Azriel glanced about his warmly lit chambers, gesturing to the space around them vaguely. "And you're comfortable doing it here?"
The priestess dormitories were not an option, that was for damn certain. He'd also offered to procure one of the many vacant guest rooms for their first joining. A clean slate. Gwyn hadn't liked the idea of sharing this moment with him in a space that belonged to no one. A space with no memories attached to it. She'd instead insisted on making use of his personal chambers.

"I am," she finally said.

Azriel grimaced at her. "I know it seems like I'm repeating a lot of questions you've already answered, but I want to ensure you don't have any regrets, Berdara."

The gesture warmed something in her, bringing a smile to her lips. Any lingering uncertainty vanished. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear shyly. "No regrets, Shadowsinger. I can't imagine anything more perfect."

Azriel's brows drew together and he closed the distance between them, coming to stand just before her at the foot of his large, mahogany bed. "First, sex is not about perfection, and neither is your first time. Don't put that pressure on it for yourself." He cradled her face in his hands, locking their eyes. "This is about us. This is supposed to be something we do for enjoyment. Alright?"

Heartened, she lifted her hands, placing her fingers over his where they laid on her face. She nodded her understanding and her heart began to pound in anticipation.

"Good. Now, second," he began, "while it isn't about perfection, I do want to make sure the circumstances are ideal for you. Beyond the setting, are you sure you want this now? It's only been f–"

"Five months," Gwyn interrupted, an amused grin on her lips. "I wouldn't ask you to do anything I wasn't ready for. You know that."

Azriel seemed to drink in her answer, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. Then his gaze dropped to her lips. Gwyn's heart thundered against her ribs, her breath catching in anticipation. The shadows seemed to still on Azriel's shoulders, watching and waiting with her.

Then his hands slid from her face, down her neck, over her breasts and to the ties of her robe. His eyes met hers again. "We can stop at any time."

She hesitated a moment, trying to calm her racing breath enough to memorize every action Azriel was taking. Then, she replied softly, "Don't stop."

The shadowsinger's scarred fingers plucked at the ribbon tied around her waist, and in a silky rustle, the fabric dropped from Gwyn's shoulders and pooled at her feet. She was bare before him, nothing of her to be hidden. Watching as his eyes scanned every inch of her, Gwyn chewed her lip. She was not such a fool to think she was nearly as handsome as he was, but she hoped her form was pleasing to him.