Chapter 40: Wedding night [2] (18+)
Dylan cupped Isabella's cheek, his voice a soft murmur against her lips. "Relax, love. Take a deep breath."
His touch was gentle, reverent, as he slowly parted her legs. The love and adoration in his eyes melted away the last of her nervousness.
As he took in the sight of her already glistening core, a deep, primal hunger stirred within him, but he forced himself to focus on her needs first. This was her first time, and he was determined to make it unforgettable.
He pressed a lingering kiss against the curve of her waist, then trailed lower, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. The feather light touch sent shivers down Isabella's spine, a soft moan escaping her lips as she clutched the sheets. When his mouth finally met her most intimate place, a strangled cry broke free.
Dylan circled her clit with his thumb, his fingers parting her folds with aching slowness. He watched her reactions carefully, enchanted by the way her body responded to his touch.
"Ohh… Dylan…" she whimpered, her thighs trembling.
She instinctively bit down on her knuckles, trying to muffle her moans, but Dylan caught her wrist and pinned it above her head. "Let me hear you, love," he whispered, his breath hot against her. "Your sounds are driving me wild."
He stroked her with deliberate intent, increasing the pace as he kissed her with raw need. She was already soaked, her body surrendering to him.
"Baby, I'm going to put a finger inside," Dylan warned, his voice husky, seeking her permission.
Isabella nodded, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation.
"This might feel a little strange at first, sweetheart," he reminded her, his care unwavering. "Tell me if it's too much."
Instead of answering, Isabella pulled him into a kiss, her silent plea for more igniting a fire in his chest. With careful precision, he slipped a finger inside her, feeling her warmth and tightness engulf him.
She stiffened momentarily, breaking the kiss with a small frown. It wasn't painful, just unfamiliar. Dylan stilled, his gaze searching hers. "Are you okay, baby?"
The initial discomfort faded quickly, replaced by something far more intoxicating. Her moans returned, breathy and needy, as he moved his fingers in slow, deliberate strokes.
"Mmmhh… oh God… Dylan…"
Her pleasure was a symphony to his ears. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, kissing, licking, nipping at her soft skin as he added another finger, finding the spot that made her body tense and quiver beneath him.
"You're so beautiful, Isa… my love, my wife… let go, baby. I'm right here."
With one final stroke, Isabella's body arched, her breath hitching as she shattered in his arms, crying out his name. Dylan held her through the waves of pleasure, whispering sweet nothings against her damp skin, his touch guiding her back down from the high.
Sitting back on his knees, he took in the sight of her—flushed, panting, utterly breathtaking. His heart clenched. She was everything. His everything.
He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting the essence of her pleasure, groaning at the addictive sweetness. Isabella's eyes widened at the erotic display, her own arousal surging as she watched him. Even in her blissful haze, she noticed him unbuttoning his pants, the evidence of his desire straining against the fabric.
Her breath hitched when she realized they were both completely bare now. Dylan's body was all sculpted strength, glistening with a light sheen of sweat from his restraint. He was stunning, but what truly made her heart race was the raw love in his eyes.
"You're the only one who makes me like this, princess," Dylan confessed, his voice thick with desire.
Isabella's gaze fell to the impressive length of him, her lips parting in both awe and apprehension. How was something so big supposed to fit inside her?
"Princess?" Dylan's warm hand cupped her cheek, bringing her back to him. "Do you want me to continue?"
Her eyes flickered between his face and his rigid arousal. "H-How… will it fit?" she whispered.
Dylan chuckled softly before pressing a tender kiss to her lips. "It might hurt a little, baby… but if you want to stop, we will. No matter what."
His unwavering patience made her heart swell. He would never push her beyond her comfort. And yet, she wanted this—wanted him. Completely.
She cupped his face, her voice steady despite her racing heart. "Go on. I am yours, and you are mine. I want this. I want you, husband."
The word sent a powerful jolt through Dylan. Husband. His control frayed at the edges.
Capturing her lips in a heated kiss, he reached for the drawer and retrieved a condom. Rolling it on, he positioned himself at her entrance, his gaze locked onto hers. "My princess… I'm going in, baby. Try to relax."
He pushed in slowly, groaning at the tight resistance. Isabella gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders. The stretch burned slightly, her body adjusting to his size.
"Dylan… ohhh…"
He stilled instantly. "Love… Isa… are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with concern.
She nodded, her nails digging into his skin. She knew the pain would fade, that pleasure would follow.
Dylan kissed away the tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes. "Shhh, baby. We don't have to—"
"Why did you stop?" she pouted, surprising him.
"You were crying," he murmured, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "Let me get you some water—"
"No…" She swallowed. "It hurt, but I want to do this."
A battle waged within him—his desperate need versus his instinct to protect her from pain. But Isabella understood his hesitation. This time, she took the lead.
Rolling them over, she straddled him, her hands splayed against his chest. Dylan's breath hitched as she wrapped her delicate fingers around his length, stroking experimentally. He groaned, the sight of her above him igniting a feral hunger inside him.
She trailed kisses down his neck, leaving marks just as he had done to her. His self-control hung by a thread.
"Isa…" he growled as she positioned herself over him, her body trembling slightly. The tip of him pressed against her entrance.
Just as she tried to sink down, Dylan flipped them again, pinning her beneath him. "Shh, love. Let me do it. I'll take care of you."
His need was unbearable now. With one deep thrust, he buried himself inside her.
Isabella cried out, clinging to him as he stilled, letting her adjust. He kissed her, whispered soothing words, stroked her sensitive nub until her body melted beneath him.
When she finally nodded, he began to move. Slow at first, then faster, deeper, until pain was forgotten, replaced by overwhelming pleasure.
Their moans filled the room, the sounds of skin meeting skin blending with their ragged breaths. Dylan clutched her tightly, branding this moment into his soul.
"Come with me, Isa."
Her body clenched around him, sending them both over the edge together.
As he pulled her into his arms, breathless and spent, Isabella's voice was a teasing whisper. "No wonder people get addicted to sex. With a sexy husband like you… I think I will be an addict, too."
Dylan chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "That's one."
She blinked. "One?"
"I'm keeping count," he smirked.
"Wanna make it two?" Isabella wiggled her brows and her hands seductively glided on his bare chest.
"At your service, my wife"
And the night went on beautifully. Isabella fell asleep after another round. Dylan clean her with a warm towel, made her wear his shirt, tucked her gently into the comforter before joining her in bed.
He too fell asleep quickly with Isabella in his arms. And he had a dream.. A very beautiful one. He saw his little Isabella in there.
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Little Isabella ran across the flower field happily. She giggled, twirled and jumped as she played with the birds and butterflies there.
She looked a little different. Her dressing style was very different. It was a cute skirt which made a huge beautiful circle around her whenever she twirled, paired with a matching blouse and a scarf like thing going over her shoulder and tucked at her waist.
It looked really beautiful on her. She looked exactly like a royal princess.
The little girl's eyes finally fell in his direction, and a bright smile made it's way on her lips. As if sensing her joy, the flowers around her bloomed and birds sang.
"Draph.." the girl called out in her cute baby voice and ran towards him.
Dylan wasn't able to see whom she ran over to as it seemed like he was watching everything from this Draph's eyes.
"Draph. I want to go to human realm again. Please take me there.. Please." the little girl cutely requested, pouting her lips and blinking her eyes.
A small chubby hand pinched her cheeks lovingly. Seems like this Draph is also a kid of her age.
"No. You will scare others." Draph denied, making her lips curl down. Her lips wobbled, her eyes slightly teared up, showing the hurt and betrayal.
Draph slightly panicked seeing her expression. "Y-You. Why are you crying? I will take you some other day.." he tried to coax, but the little girl took a step back, still unable to take his outright no.
Just as a tear was about to drop down Draph relented. Her tears were his weakness. "Fine. Let's go."
"Yayyy.. " Gone were the tears and hurt in her eyes. He once again fell into her sympathy and guilt trap.
"Bring a lot of money with you. I have many things I want to eat there. Okay?" The little girl walked ahead as she dictated the instructions.
The boy walked closely behind her. Sometimes commenting, other times only nodding. But there was endless indulgence in his voice whenever he spoke.
"Draph.. Don't think I am an ungrateful person okay? One day when I finally learn how to cook, I will prepare your meals okay?" The little girl declared.
The boy smiled. "I will wait for that day Amantha" Draph said
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Dylan opened his eyes in the morning. Isabella was still sleeping with her head resting on his chest.
The dream was still clear in his head. His Isabella was there. What bothered him was the conversation that happened later.
Draph? Human Realm? Amantha?
Draph? He remembered hearing something similar in the bloody dream he got because of that haunted ring.
"Isabella. My wife." Dylan whispered and kissed her forehead. Having her in his arms soothed his soul.
Doesn't matter where she came from, or who she was. She was his wife. That's all that mattered to him now.