“How about I give you that dance that I owe you?” Aris changed the subject.  “Okay,” I forced a smile.  He stood up and walked to the wall opposite the trees and next to the fire place.  I hadn't even noticed the stereo, sitting up on a shelf, until now.  He turned it on and selected a slow song.  He came back to me and offered his hand.  I took it and stood up.  He pulled me close, “I will apologize in advance.  I am out of practice.  The last time I danced was with you at your fifth birthday party.”  “Really?” I asked, curious, “Why not since then?”  “You were not available to dance and you are the only one that I wish to dance with,” he answered.  I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tight.  He chuckled, “What is that for?”  “For you being you,” I answered, “Because I love you.” He hugged me back.  We continued to dance for several slow songs.  Then he broke the silence, “are you ready for a cigarette?”  He lead me to the hot tub room.  We each took a seat at the table.

He handed me a lit cigarette then lit his own.  The curtains had been drawn shut, so I couldn't stare out the wall of windows.  He pushed a button on the remote and the curtains slowly edged open on their tracks.  We both watched the snow falling.  “I plan to mate and mark you tonight.  Are you okay with that?” he asked me.  I didn't answer right away, over thinking it.  “Jade, did you hear me?”  “I heard you,” I answered, “I’m okay with it.  I am just a little nervous, a little scared.”  “There is nothing to fear,” he told me, “I can calm your nerves.”  “I think that you'll have too,” I took a deep draw off of my cigarette.  “Is it in your stomach?”  I nodded my head yes.  “Do not worry,” he assured me, “that nervous is a good kind of nervous.  It is very appealing that you feel that way just from me asking.”  My cheeks heated up with embarrassment.  “Your blush just adds to your beauty.”  “Please stop,” I implored looking away.

He chuckled, “fine, I will stop……so how about that snow….”  I snuck a peek at him.  He was smiling smugly.  If I had something to throw at him, I would've.  “Does it ever stop snowing here?” I grasped onto his inadvertent change of subject.  “Rarely,” he answered, “Do you have any questions about tonight?  It would be best to answer them ahead of time.”  I thought for a few minutes.  “How bad is it going to hurt?” I asked.  “It will hurt, but then it gets better.  A lot better,” he explained, “I will do everything within my power to make it as painless as possible.  It is the same with the mark.  It hurts at first, then gets better.”  “Where will you bite me?”  “On your left shoulder.”

“You said that I will bare your child first.  When will that be?” I asked.  “Whenever you are ready,” he answered, “I am not going to pressure you.  I want to enjoy being married for a little while before we have a child.”  “How long is a little while?” I pressed.  “I do not know.  I just know that I am ready when you are,” he answered, “You are not ready now, are you?”  “Not yet,” I told him, “I need some time.  I’m not on birth control.  Are you going to use a condom?”  “We do not need a condom.  Your skin will take care of it.”
“Do you have any other questions?” he asked.  “Are there any rules that I should know about?”  “No,” he answered, “no rules.  You just do what feels right.”

“Do you have any questions for me?” I asked.  “Do you like it rough?” he smiled, teasing me.  “No,” I answered with conviction.

He put out his cigarette, stood up and offered his hand to me.  I put out my cigarette, then he led me back to the living room.  “I think we should dance some more,” he explained, “we have all night.  No one is going to bother us until Rip comes to make us breakfast.”  Is he procrastinating?  Maybe he is as nervous as I am.  Or maybe he is just hoping to set the mood.  It would seem kind of cold after the conversation that we just had.
The stereo was still playing slow songs.  I fell into step with him, leaning my head against his chest.  “Where do I bite you?” I asked him.  “If you feel so inclined, you can bite me anywhere but my face,” he answered, “please do not mess up my pretty face.”  I looked up at him smiling, “so, you know that you're pretty.  I still like you anyway.”  He chuckled, “do you know how beautiful you are?”  I didn't answer.  I honestly think that I am kind of plain.  Not ugly, but not pretty either.  “I do not think that you do,” he answered his own question, “but the truth is that I have never laid eyes on a woman as beautiful as you.”  “Are you sure about that?” I asked.  “Quite sure,” he answered.  “You say the sweetest things.”  He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“I have one last question.” He looked at me expectantly.  “Can we have some more pie?”  He smiled, “of course you can have more of the best apple pie ever.”

We went to the kitchen.  He lifted me up to sit on the kitchen island and got out two plates.  He dished out generous helpings then handed me one along with a fork.  He watched me waiting to see my reaction to the first bite.  I took a bite and closed my eyes.  I moaned as I swallowed.  “This is a work of art,” I praised him.  He took his first bite and closed his eyes.  He chewed then swallowed.  “it is pretty good,” he agreed.  “It's wonderful,” I corrected him.  We finished the pie then he put our dishes in the sink.

“Do you have room left for chocolate?  I never got to watch you eat it.”  “I could eat some chocolate,” I answered.  He brought me a chocolate bar from the refrigerator.  I opened the wrapping, broke off a piece and put it in my mouth.  I closed my eyes while it melted in my mouth, then swallowed.  I sighed, “chocolate is so good.”  I broke off another piece and held it up to his lips.  He took it and closed his eyes for a few seconds, then swallowed, “it is good.”  We finished the bar, taking time to savor it.

He put the wrapper in the garbage bin then came back and stood in between my legs.  He put his hands on my cheeks, leaned in and kissed me.  He didn't have to ask permission.  I opened for him.  He kissed me slowly and leisurely, covering every bit of the inside of my mouth.  He put his hands down on my thighs and I wrapped my arms around his neck.  He broke from the kiss, “Would you like a shower before we start?”  “Would you?” I asked.  He nodded his head yes.  “I do too then,” I agreed.

He lifted me down from the island and led me to his room.  We went to the bathroom and he turned on the water.  Our clothes disappeared and I followed him into the shower.  The warm water felt invigorating.  I closed my eyes and stood directly in the spray of one of the jets.  The spray was so powerful that I was soaked, hair and all, in less than ten seconds.  I stepped back and bumped into a solid chest.  His arms encircled me into a hug.  “Are you ready for me to wash you?” he whispered seductively into my ear.  I turned my head and answered ,”yes.”  He captured my mouth into a kiss and kept kissing me as he washed the front of me.  He moved the bar of soap over my neck and chest.  The spray of water rinsed me almost instantly.  He moved the soap down to my breasts, soaping with one hand, kneading with the other.  He tugged at my nipples and I moaned, breaking the kiss.  He moved lower over my ribs and my belly.  Then he lifted my left leg with his left hand and soaped up between my legs and down my thighs.  He put the soap onto a ledge in the shower.  He rubbed me until the soap was rinsed, going into massage mode.  I gasped when he touched that sensitive bundle of nerves at my juncture.  He began rubbing slow rhythmic circles around it.

He abruptly stopped and slowly let my leg fall, “Time to go to bed.”  “Do you want me to wash you?” I asked grabbing the soap.  I turned to face him.  I started with his neck and worked my way down to his nipples.  I heard a sharp intake of breath when I plucked his nipples.  I guess he likes that too.  I worked my way down his torso and to his belly.  I soaped up my hands and blocked the water jet with my body.  I soaped up his penis, testicles and that extra prickly part.  I started rubbing his penis much like I had in the living room.  I moved out of the way so that the water would rinse him off, but kept rubbing.  He stopped my hand with his, “we really need to go to bed.”  “Okay,” I removed my hand.  We got out of the shower, walked to the closet and put on robes to dry off.  I put my dripping hair up in a towel.

“Would you like a cigarette before we continue?” he asked.  “Yes,” I answered.  We put on slippers and went to the hot tub room.  He handed me a lit cigarette, “Are you still nervous, now that we have started?”  “I don't know.  Maybe a little,” I answered, “but excited too.” “I am excited too,” he agreed, “I am glad that you feel that way.  The nervousness will go away as we get into it.”

“Will I be different tomorrow?  Will you be different?” I asked him.  “We will still be ourselves, just a little different,” he answered, “changes will probably be more noticeable in you, though.”  “Will it be a bad different or a good different?”  “Not necessarily good or bad, just different,” he answered.

We finished our cigarettes and he stood holding out his hand to me.  I guess the time had come.  I could feel the nervousness building.  I hope I don't throw up.  He led me through the rooms and up the staircase to his bedroom.  “Do you need to use the restroom?” he asked me, “This may put pressure on your bladder, making you feel like you have to.”  I decided to go, since he felt like he had to warn me.  I took care of business, washed and dried my hands, took the towel out of my hair, and went back in his room.  He stood waiting for me.  I went to him, “I don't really know what to do.”  “I know,” he said, “it is fine.  Leave it all up to me.”
He tilted my chin up with his fingers and captured my mouth with a kiss.  He untied my robe belt and pushed up and out on my shoulders, with his hands, to remove the robe.  I started to struggle with it.  “Let me,” he told me.  I stopped and he slipped it off and threw it onto the plush chair in the corner.  He took his off and tossed it onto the chair as he continued kissing me.

He broke from the kiss and turned down the bedding, “Lay down on your stomach.”  I did as he said.  “I am going to give you a massage first,” he told me, “it will help you relax.  If you start falling asleep let me know.”  He went somewhere, then I could hear music.  He dimmed the lights and got onto the bed next to me.  He started with my neck and shoulders.  He kneaded and rubbed lightly. It felt wonderful.  He moved down to my shoulder blades then my middle and lower back.  He kneaded and rubbed my butt, then started on my thighs and calves.  “Are you awake?” he asked.  “Yes,” I answered.

“Okay,” he stopped, “Roll over.”  I rolled over onto my back.  “Are you pretty relaxed?” he asked.  “Yes,” I answered.  “Are you cold?”  “A little,” I answered.  He laid down next to me on my left side and covered us up with the blanket and sheet.  His body heat warning me up almost instantly.

“Do you want me to give you a massage?” I asked him.  “No.  Not tonight,” he answered.

“Are you ready to get started?” he asked.  “I'm ready,” I answered.  “Let me know if you start feeling sick again,” he told me,” I will massage you more, if needed.”  “Okay.”