Our eyes locked as I aligned with her. I watched every flicker of emotion pass through her—want, wonder, worship—as I pressed forward, claiming her not with force, but with gravity. Like the stars were always meant to fall into orbit.
Her body arched beneath me, soft and trembling, and I could feel it—her nervousness, her trust, her sacred offering. She was giving me everything. Not just her body, not just her desire, but the untouched, unbroken truth of who she was.
My hand slid between us, guiding myself to her entrance. I felt the warmth of her, the hesitant flutter of her breath, and the tight, resisting heat of her untouched core... innocent and unclaimed, twitching for me. My chest rose and fell with the weight of it—not just arousal, but awe.
"Cassandra," I whispered, cupping her cheek again. "This will hurt. Just once. But I'll never let you break alone."
She nodded, tears shimmering unshed in her eyes—not from fear, but from the magnitude of what she was choosing.
"I want the pain," she said, voice shaking. "If it's yours."
And with that…
I pressed forward.
Her body resisted. She was impossibly tight, wet only from her arousal and the lingering heat of our kisses. Inch by slow inch, I eased in, feeling her stretch around me, trembling, gasping. Then—there it was. The thin, sacred barrier.
Her innocence.
I gritted my teeth, holding myself still. "Breathe," I told her, stroking her hair as she clung to my shoulders. "You're doing so well."
Then, in one slow, measured thrust—I broke through.
She gasped, her entire body seizing beneath mine. She was trembling, her whole being as she squeezed me inside.
And damn it felt so good. my first woman... she took my first time as I did Her's.
Her nails dug into my back as her head pressed into the pillow, a sound halfway between pain and prayer falling from her lips. I stilled completely, holding her through it.
I felt the snap of it. Not just flesh—but something deeper. A veil lifting between souls.
And then I saw it.
A thin line of red, blooming between her thighs, stark against the pale sheets. The blood of her first time—her last boundary broken—marking her passage from girlhood into the eternal bond we now shared. It wasn't vulgar. It was sacred. Like a ritual, and I was both the priest and the supplicant.
I kissed her temple as she breathed through the sting, my hand on her heart.
"I've got you," I whispered. "No one else will ever touch you like this. Ever. You're mine now."
She nodded, a single tear slipping free.
Then something shifted.
In me.
Like a gate inside my soul had creaked open for the first time. Like I had been made of stone until this moment and her body—her blood—her gift—had turned me human and god at once.
Power stirred behind my ribs. Ancient. Eclipsed. Like the soul-bond had found its root and begun to flower.
I drew out slowly, then pushed back in, deeper now, her body starting to open, starting to remember that we were made for this. Her soft moan was softer this time—part pain, but now also need. Her eyes fluttered open, glowing faintly with green fire, and I felt something divine pulse between us.
The System didn't speak aloud—but I felt its awareness.
First Union. Confirmed. Sanctified. Irreversible.
A warmth spread across my spine, like my very being was etching her name into its core. She was inside me now, imprinted in a way that would never fade.
I moved again, deeper, reverent. Her body still trembled, but her hips lifted to meet mine. The pain was still there—I could see it—but so was something more. A blooming heat. A claiming.
Her voice cracked. "Don't stop."
"I won't."
This time, when I thrust, she gasped and clung to me. Her pain was dissolving now, each movement turning the ache into pleasure, until she was moving with me—matching the rhythm, rising to meet every deep, slow stroke like she needed it.
The blood between us mixed with sweat and heat and something more—something eternal.
Her hands clenched in the sheets, then found my back, fingers dragging down like she needed to feel every inch of me moving into her, like she didn't want to forget a single second.
She was tight, molten heat wrapping around me, pulling me deeper. Her body opened for me like it had been waiting—like it knew me.
I stilled once I was fully inside her, letting the moment settle. Letting us both feel the enormity of it.
She whimpered, her legs tightening around my hips. "Marcus..."
I kissed her again—deep, slow, possessive. My hips moved, just a little. Just enough for her to arch into me and whisper something I couldn't quite hear but felt in my bones.
I set a rhythm—deliberate, reverent. Like worship.
Each thrust was a vow.
Each moan a response.
Her nails scraped across my skin, her body rising to meet mine over and over as I took her in strokes that built slowly, endlessly, until every breath was ragged, every sound she made a sacred hymn sung into my ear.
"More," she breathed, biting her lip as if the word might shatter her.
I gave her more.
My name spilled from her lips in broken syllables, her voice husky with need, with love, with something that sounded like surrender. I pressed my forehead to hers, eyes locked as we moved together in a rhythm that felt older than language.
The bond flared.
Not visible. Not yet. But I felt it—threading, stitching, something ancient and unseen beginning to tether us soul-to-soul.
She felt it too. Her eyes widened, pupils blown, and she cried out as I drove deeper. Not from pain. From the pressure of becoming something more.
Our breaths grew frantic. Her body clenched around me as her climax built, her hands fisting in my hair, pulling me closer, anchoring us both as her body shook beneath mine.
I whispered her name like a prayer into the hollow of her throat.
"Cassandra."
She came with a cry, her body tightening, pulsing, gasping my name as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded.
I wasn't far behind. The pressure built until I couldn't hold it, until I was buried in her, groaning her name into her skin as release surged through me like lightning splitting a storm.
When she came, it wasn't a scream—it was a sound like surrender. Like a vow. Her body clenched around me, dragging me to the edge with her, and I gave in—burying myself deep, emptying into her as the bond exploded through my soul like starlight detonating across the void.
We collapsed together, tangled and shaking.
Her blood was still on the sheets; a crimson memory of the moment we became something more.
And in the silence, as we held each other, I whispered the only truth that mattered:
"You'll never be alone again."
Her fingers moved through my hair, slow, trembling. "You feel like home," she whispered.
I didn't answer.
I just held her closer.
Because she was mine now.
And I was hers.
And the bond, silent but awakening, knew it too.
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HEY... More is coming...