"You have done the same for me.”
The music continues to swell, and then we walk out of the cave and into our new life.
"We should get the girls," he says, looking back to find them with his parents.
I hesitate. I’d made arrangements to have the evening to ourselves.
“Later. Your mother will watch over them at the feast,” I say brightly.
Ra’Sa focuses on me, and my heart skips a beat.
It has been a while since we’ve been alone, and while I don't begrudge my new life, I want to have him all to my self.
His eyes blazed. "Your wish is my command,Ruh’flor."
From that moment, it takes a small eternity to thank and hug the well-wishes from our guests.
Once out of the caverns, we break from the group, heading to a little home three houses down from his mother’s dwelling. He picks me up, carrying me in his arms as he opens the door.
I laugh at the silliness of it all.
The simple bliss.
My laughter stops when I look at the ground and find the sticks and stones the girls and I arranged a few days earlier. Usually, he picks up our messages when he returns.
But this one was simple and sweet…
Ra’Sa meets my eye and gives me a shy smile.
My heart almost explodes as he takes me through the threshold.
And then the door shuts and I hear nothing of the outside world.
Everything smells like us. Gems the girls have already started hoarding and gifts from others are strewn about, and we walk past the living room and into the largest bedroom with a deliciously large bed—one that has had far, far too few uses.
Ra'Sa lets out a feral sound that emboldens me as we walk in. He closes the door behind him and walks to the bed, sitting down.
“Well, wife. We have arrived,” he all but purrs.
I grin. “We have, husband.”
He takes his time looking around the room and then setting his sights on me.
“What now?”
Heat flashes over my body.
"Take off your clothes," I say slowly. My heart races, and my breath mimics a stacatto. I want to enjoy this. I want both of us to love this.
Ra’Sa follows my directions perfectly. He starts with the fabric around his neck and then unbuttons the shirt that wraps across his body. He neatly places each article on a chair near the wardrobe. I watch the flex of his muscles, admire the jewels glinting in his ears, and admire the length of his hair. It has already grown long again, and he wears it in a low bun on the nap of his neck.
"May I approach?" he asks slowly.
I fight the smile that tugs at my lips. Not because his words are funny but because I deeply enjoy this part.
"Only if you help me with my dress," I say.
He does. He crosses the room in a second but doesn't envelop me. Instead, he hums and the stones around our room light and glow. He's so talented with his song, and it reaches deep inside of me. It coaxes out new depths that make my skin burn and my core tighten. My toes curl as the friction of fabric sliding against my skin makes my nipples harden and cheeks flush.