She was married. Although she'd known it was going to happen for weeks, during the time she was healing before the wedding, it was still hard for Daciana to wrap her mind around it. Even staring down at the ring on her finger, it was still almost.. surreal. Thinking of herself as a wife, of Boris as her husband, it was almost like trying to put a malleable oval-shaped peg into a round hole -- it didn't quite fit. Yet. But it would, in time.

Night had fallen some time ago, and the celebration of both their wedding and the crossing of the equator was just starting to wind down when the two snuck away. Boris had been caught on their way belowdecks, his friend wanting to talk to him -- probably to give him marital advice, she thought with amusement -- so Daciana had gone ahead to their borrowed cabin. It was nothing fancy, not large or grand, but it was cozy and the sheets on the bunk were soft, which made it.. perfect, in her mind. Not to mention the bunk was big enough for two. They might only have it for this one night, but it would be their little piece of paradise.

When she heard the distinctive tread of her husband's footsteps approaching the cabin door, she turned away from the bed, her eyes alight in the muted glow of the hanging lamp, and a wide smile ready for the moment he opened the door. As soon as he stepped inside, she moved toward him, taking his hands while rising up on her toes to give him a soft kiss.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

Her tone was teasing, playful, showing she didn't mean the words as a rebuke, nor was she at all serious. Her emotions were slowly becoming less confusing, and she was learning to show them more easily, although Boris was the only one who got to see her completely unguarded. There could be no walls between them.


@Kimmie

All thoughts of earlier, save for kissing his bride and looking into her eyes as they sealed their union, had vanished as he limped into the cabin in question. At her words, he gave a tired smile and shook his head, "Nothing in this world could keep me from you this night, my Daciana." He gently closed the door behind and moved to his wife... His wife, he thought. His eyes were on her lovely face, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in her hair.

"You're mine now," he said lowly, followed by a deep rumble of a chuckle in his chest. He pulled her close and kissed her soft lips again to return the favor of her greeting. He cradled her back with his wide hand, marveling at how small her waist seemed in his hands. "Wife," he murmured and then began to kiss over her face, his moustache probably tickling at her skin as his lips pressed ever so gently to the corners of her mouth, her eyelids, her cheeks, her forehead, and her chin.

It was with great reluctance that he had to pull away, but not far. The last thing he wanted to interfere with their night was the pain that plagued him. It just would not do, would it? Boris moved toward the bed, taking her with him, and gave a heavy sigh of discomfort as he moved to sit. "I hope you didn't wait too long for me, my love." He moved to remove his boots.

This was the first time that Daci would see the twisted scaring, and rather than act like it was cruel fate, he made himself think that this was normal. Off went the boots and off went his hose, and out came the shiny network of scars that marred and mutilated the flesh. The skin was still pink, which meant that they were still almost fresh.

He didn't look at her at first, for that was one of the things that, despite his best effort to normalize, was still a huge blow to his pride and masculinity. What woman wanted to look at a man with such ugly flesh? After about a moment, he drew her to his side and he cradled her hand with his. He seemed, for a moment, to work up the nerve to even speak about the wound, "I never told you how I got this, did I?" It was probably an odd thing to bring up at that moment.

He wasn't nervous about sharing a bed with her, but he was... gifting her with something intimate. He didn't want to just... Jump on her and pull her clothes off without preamble. No, he wanted to get close to her spiritually and show her part of him that maybe only Johann really knew.

@Kat

He looked so weary, and it tugged at her heart. Boris had been working himself to the bone since she was forced to reveal herself, and she would never stop feeling guilty, that he'd had to suffer so on her account. It was on her lips to tell him that he should lay down and rest, that they had a lifetime to share their bodies, although she knew their marriage wasn't considered fully legitimate until it was consummated. Before she could say this, though, he was kissing her, and all thought of protest fled her mind. How could she think of anything so serious when the taste of him was on her lips?

She breathed a happy sigh when they parted, her eyes half-lidded and gleaming as she smiled, the curve of her mouth widening into a small grin as laughter tumbled from her, a direct result of his lips roving across her skin. Daciana wasn't yet accustomed to the feel of his facial hair against her flesh, and the slightly scratchy sensation of his beard was indeed ticklish. But that didn't stop her from looking up at him, her eyes sparkling, to speak softly, the single word woven with the powerful warmth of affection.

"Husband."

She watched him with a bit of concern as Boris moved to sit on the bunk. It was clear he was in pain, and she was once again powerfully tempted to urge him to lay back and rest. She kept her silence for now, sitting down beside him, her gaze drawn to the source of his agony, before those mist-colored eyes flitted back up to his face.

"Only my whole life. Not long at all, really, and well worth the wait."

Most might have said that with an air of humor, but Daciana was completely sincere. She'd known only death and deception until she'd met him, and it was like her life hadn't truly begun until Boris had kissed her in the fading light of day. After that, what was a few weeks to become his wife? A wife who was worried for him, but unable to help looking at the scars that covered his skin when they were revealed. If he expected her to look disgusted or uncomfortable, he would see something quite different on her face: Sorrow, that he had endured such agony, mixed with pride, that he could suffer so much and not let it destroy him. Scars were a sign that you had survived, that you had persevered, that you were strong. How could she not admire that?

"No. I knew you would tell me when you were ready. Your secrets are your own until you choose to share them with me. Then I'll gladly help you shoulder their burden."

She flashed him a nearly shy smile as she said this. Wasn't that a wife's job, after all? To help with the weight of what he bore?


@Kimmie

Her reactions made him smile, male pride couldn't help but rear up like some kind of bear. As far as his injury, he was in pain, indeed, but that was something he'd have to live with for quite a long time. it was the look of the scars that bothered him more. But she showed no signs of disgust. He looked down at the grotesque flesh, "The last ship I sailed upon was attacked by pirates and sunk. I took a blade as I was trying to save crewmates from a watery grave. As soon as we made it to shore, I was in the hospital for at least a month. it had festered by the time I got there and some of the doctors believed that amputation would have been the best treatment. Thankfully, one doctor saved my leg, but he could do nothing about the scars."

There honestly wasn't more to the story, it was pretty straightforward and he acted as if trying to save crewmates was an ordinary thing. perhaps it was the fact that hardly any of the crew had survived. She would have to talk to Johan for more information if she ever got curious, but Boris never mentioned that either. "I had just been hired by Captain Beppin within a week or so after I was out of the hospital, and that was within a week of meeting you." That meant that the wound was more recent and had good reason to hurt, even if he did not complain about it.

With that all being said, he turned his body some so he could look her in the eye, "I won't lie and tell you it doesn't hurt, but I want you to know why." She had no reason to feel any guilt, he'd have done the extra work anyways because Boris was the type who went above and beyond.

Boris took off his shirt, then, and apparently he was starting to bulk up a little with the extra work, though he still had lean muscle. His chest hair wasn't like that of an animal, but just the right amount upon his pectorals and then there was a nice... happy trail that moved downward in the middle of defined abdominal muscles. He had that V thing going on that would make any woman over a certain age stare at without a care in the world. Not that he cared. The shirt was not tossed, but folded and placed neatly next to his boots.

He turned and looked at her again with an eyebrow raised, not in arrogance, but in curiosity. He scratched his chest a little, boyishly.

@Kat

Daciana looked at him with rounded eyes, an expression of amazement coloring her features for a few moments, as he spoke of how he'd earned his scars. Then pride surged to the fore, filling her face. It was like something out of a tale of valor, and she fell even more in love with him. When Boris fell silent, she reached for him, her delicate hand gently cupping his cheek as she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, her nose rubbing lightly against his cheek as she murmured.

"You're the most brave and wonderful man I know, Boris Melnik. I'm honored that you chose to call me wife."

She drew away then, letting her hand fall to her lap with its twin. Both of those appendages suddenly twisted together when he removed his shirt, and her gaze grew intent as it surveyed the flesh exposed to her. She'd seen naked men before, usually members of the order, a few times when she was working to get to her next mark. But this was so very different. This was Boris, the man she loved, the man she now called husband. The man who would soon know her body, just as he knew her mind, heart, and soul.

Her hands separated as she leaned toward him, and her fingertips trailed lightly across his chest, feeling the difference in texture between his skin and the smattering of hair there. She was visibly fascinated by the dips and ridges formed by his muscles, and particularly those that seemed to draw her gaze and touch both downward, like an arrow directing her to the top of his trousers. She retreated from that path, however, and reached down so she could remove the simple shoes she wore, then turned her attention to the laces that ran up the bodice of her dress. It wasn't at all fair for him to be the only one who was half-naked, after all.

Soon the blue fabric was loosened, and she shoved the bodice down, rising from the bed just enough to urge the fabric over her hips and legs, until she could remove the garment entirely and drape it across a nearby chair. This left her in an under-dress of thin white linen, the lamplight just dim enough to keep the material from being completely see-through.


@Kimmie

Removing his trousers took more effort, so he did not remove those just yet. Instead, he stilled and gazed at Daci as she began to disrobe. His eyes were already dark, but they might seem darker after that. He was aware of the pressure in his loins, a tightening in his pants. He waited until she had finished putting the gown over the chair, then drew her to him with a low rumble in his chest. Damn, but the sight of the shadows formed at her apex and the pink tips of her breasts tantalized him.

With an almost playful movement, he had her under him and was gazing down at her lovely face. Any words he might have had seemed to die on the tip of his tongue and he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing at the corners again, nipping gently at her bottom lip, and then kissing her deeply. He pressed himself against her, letting her feel his reaction to her partial nudity. He broke his tender assault upon her lips and growled into her ear, "You are enchanting."

Boris looked her in the eye as he shifted his weight and began to lift the hem of her shift with the back of the same hand that moved up her leg, up to her outer thigh, his mouth soon finding her pulse at her throat and branding her soft flesh with hot, but gentle kisses. He'd pause in between a few of them to utter things, "I've wanted to kiss you here the first time I saw you. To feel if I make your pulse quicken the way you do mine."

His work roughened palm soon moved around to cup at her rear, yet he had the softest touch. He'd never bedded a virgin before, but he knew that they needed to be brought to a level of desire beyond his own in order to be ready for him. The few women he had bedded between ports, and few there were because he preferred not to contract some disease from doxies, had also looked quite surprised at the size of his endowment. He had a feeling that any virgin, let alone Daci, might balk at the size of him and wonder how in the world he'd fit and where he was putting it. Boris had to be patient.

@Kat

The way Boris looked at her had Daciana's heart racing. She'd seen glimpses of his hunger before, but he always quelled it, as though he was afraid of frightening her with his desire. It was one of those things she was still trying to understand, but she had the feeling it wouldn't be at all difficult, because when he looked at her as though he wanted to eat her, she felt her body respond instinctively. Her breasts tightened, heat blossoming between her thighs as her breath caught.

Before she could reach for him, she was suddenly pulled into his arms, and then the world spun pleasantly as she ended up beneath him. It felt perfectly natural to shift so that his hips settled into the cradle of her thighs, aligning their bodies like two puzzle pieces made for each other, just as their lips met. Her arms slid around his shoulders, fingers carding gently through his hair while they kissed, and she reveled in the heat of his body, so easily felt through the barely-there fabric that still covered her. Then he pressed into her, and every thought in her head vanished.

Oh. That single movement had caused a delicious friction that made her inhale sharply as their lips parted, and she rolled her hips against his, the words growled in her ear making her shiver. When he drew back, she looked up at him, her eyes lit with eager curiosity. There was no anxiety in her, no uncertainty. She trusted Boris, wholly and without question, and she was excited to learn what it felt like, to be with him in this way. That excitement was readily apparent, her heart thundering in her chest, and he'd feel it echoed in the vein that pulsed beneath his lips, hear it in the breathless moan his kisses drew from her throat.

"I need.."

The words were murmured, her statement trailing off as she failed to articulate what it was she needed. Words were so hard right now, she could barely think, but she was struck with sudden inspiration. Her hands slid over his shoulders and downward, fingers curling into the already rucked up bottom of her shift, and began to pull it upward as she wriggled beneath him, until finally she was able to pull it over her head and toss it aside. Then her hands pressed to his back, pulling his bare upper body against hers, and she breathed a ragged sound of approval. This was what she needed, the feel of his skin against hers, with nothing between them. Her lips found his again, kissing him with heat and abandon as she shifted and arched restlessly beneath him, her body seeking the pleasure they both craved.


@Kimmie

She was... Oh Lord, she was wriggling beneath him and removing her shift. Her movements caused an almost painful sensation that almost snapped his control. He could not and would not lose control with her first time. He had to sit up and take off the offending trousers, which he did with an impatience he didn't think he'd had. But soon, he was as naked and she and his torpid member jutted against her thigh the moment he moved to her again.

He trailed kisses down her throat and to her breast, his mouth pulling in the tip, tongue laving against the skin like he was relishing the taste of her flesh... Which he was. He pulled back and blew on it, a wicked gleam in his eye. And then he repeated the actions upon her other, before continuing to move downward. He nipped at the flesh of her belly, then rested his cheek there for a moment to savor the feeling of her flesh.

Moments later, he was kissing her thigh, murmuring, "Do you like this, my flame? Do you like my kisses on your thigh? Or how about..." he let his tongue find the flesh under her right knee, "How about this?" Oh, his self control, he thought. He was probably driving himself mad as much as he hoped he was driving her mad. But he didn't stop at her knees, he kissed lower, then back up, and then his mouth found the apex of her thighs and he nudged her legs apart, his mouth claiming the arousal he found.

He felt a surge of male triumph to find her wet, and the taste of her was like ambrosia. His mouth found her bud and suckled gently, and then his tongue lapped at her heat. "And what about this?" He asked this redundantly, knowing full well what he was doing to her.

@Kat

When she realized he was removing his trousers, Daciana raised her head, halfway propping herself up on her elbows so that she could look down between their bodies. Feeling his hardness behind a barrier of cloth was one thing, but she wanted to see it. And she managed to catch a rather good look of it before Boris was on her again. Perhaps she should've been concerned that she was so tiny, and that part of him was quite large, but not only did she feel certain that it would be just fine, it was very hard to think such things when he was attacking her in such a delightful way, the feel of his mouth on her breasts drawing a soft, gasping moan from her lips, her hands gently grasping his hair to encourage his ministrations.

She tilted her head, watching him with a sort of lazy fascination as his mouth wandered down her body, the feel of his beard against her stomach making her squirm at the ticklish sensation, although she failed to laugh. No, that happened when his tongue darted into the tender space behind her knee, the unexpected touch making her leg jerk and toes curl as she giggled. Of course, that mirthful sound was soon swallowed by a strangled inhalation as his lips began roving again, and she unconsciously gripped his curls with a ragged whimper when his mouth found the space between her thighs. Her eyes closed and her body arched toward him as pleasure spiraled throughout her form, a garbled sound that might have tried to be a laugh leaving her at his question, though her true response was murmured breathlessly.

"I never knew.."

She trailed off, unable to complete her half-coherent thought, only able to moan as he teased her with his wicked tongue. But she'd told Boris the entirety of her life story, how the Order had denied them emotion, new experiences, sexual interaction.. so he would know what she was trying to say: She'd never known that she could feel like this. Not just physically, but emotionally. Boris had opened the world to her, in so many ways.


@Kimmie

The taste of her was intoxicating and her responses to his kisses and now otherwise added to that. He growled softly and grabbed her rear to lift her hips to another angle, letting his tongue dart mercilessly upon her nub. He moved so her legs were over his shoulders and stretched his arms to caress up her belly and just beneath her breasts, "Say my name, Daciana," he rumbled out with heavy breaths. It was quite easy to deduce that he liked performing such an act, or he would have stopped before that point. No, he wanted her to shatter before he took her, to give her that much because she might not shatter this time.

God, she was beautiful, her hair spread riotous across the pillow and the bed. He wanted to bury himself into her core so badly that he hurt with need, sweat was already beading on his brow. He would not pull his mouth away until her honey had dampened her and his beard.

@Kat