Chapter 25
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“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, we have to spend the night together. Not just sleep, mind you; there’s a lot to do… Ah, yes. Do you perhaps know what mating means? Coupling, copulation, something like that.”
This time, no sound came. But she could vaguely read his response in the subtly altered rhythm of his breathing. Though she could not see his expression and could not be certain, she sensed bewilderment. Despite the dire circumstances, the fact that he offered some immediate response made him a far easier conversation partner than Rose.
Of course, that did not solve everything. She still had to explain what “consummation” meant to him. And when faced with such difficulty, the problem-solving method Fiona had most often chosen over her twenty-three years of life was,
“Words won’t explain it, so I’ll just teach you with my body.”
This straightforward, crude approach.
“To do that, I’m going to have to touch you now. If you don’t want that, tell me.”
Even if he did object, she planned to coax him into it eventually, but courtesy demanded she say so first. Fortunately, her words seemed to plunge him into contemplation, and he made no sound. Apart from slightly quickened breathing, there was no reaction, so Fiona moved towards her true purpose.
“I’m really going to touch you now. If you don’t like it at any point, don’t bite, tell me with words. Do you understand what I’m saying? If you understand, make a sound.”
Krrrk. The sound was far less fierce than before. This confirmed for Fiona that he clearly understood her words.
“I told you not to bite. If you startle me like before, you’ll see me truly angry.”
She could not tell whether it was a threat or a plea. But she felt she needed at least that warning to set her mind at ease. She still could not be sure if he would willingly cooperate with what she was about to do. Despite her outward pretence of calm, she was more tense than ever. She had boasted loudly about teaching him, but in truth, she was just as unfamiliar and uncertain about this matter.
Like most new brides before their wedding night, Fiona harboured vague anxieties and fears about the consummation. But most of her worries had concerned her husband’s violence or the pain of deflowering.
‘I never imagined I would have to lead my husband.’
Half amused and half bewildered, in the end a stubborn resolve took hold. Perhaps it was the result of a life far from smooth; Fiona often found a strange vitality in the face of adversity.
‘Alright. I can do this. Let’s do it.’
Steadying her breath, which had been trembling with tension, she forced her back straight. That contradictory emotion, a tangle of anxiety and nerve, was the only strength she could lean on now. Slowly raising her hand, she extended it, and as before, she heard a sound as if he was scenting her. The warm breath against her fingertips tempted her to snatch her hand back, but she barely managed to refrain. Had she not decided to trust him? She had to show trust first, then he might trust her too.
In any case, bound hand and foot as he was, he could not spring at her. If he meant to harm her, he would have done so already. She told herself this like a mantra. Giving him ample time to grow accustomed to her scent, Fiona reached further into the darkness. After groping for a long while, her hand finally touched his face.
Startled, she pulled back, but only for a moment. Summoning her courage again, she traced the line of his firm jaw. Her fingertips naturally found his lips. The sensation of slightly rough yet full lips was unfamiliar. She quickly moved her hand to his cheek and the area around his ear.
“I can’t see what you look like, so I’m touching. Does it bother you?”
“…”
Taking his silence as consent, Fiona continued slowly exploring his chiseled cheek, prominent nose, and unusually defined brow bone. Throughout, he only occasionally exhaled hot breaths, offering no sign of complaint.
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