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“Your Excellency? Do you still want me to be with you?” Kurt’s hesitant voice rings out quietly in the room. He looks down at his feet, feeling like an intruder and dreading a negative response. He shuffles in place, waiting for Helenne to regain her senses and send him on his way.
Daring to steal a glance, he finds her wearing her night shift—a sight he had never dared dream of seeing. It’s a simple white dress that hangs loosely around her, calling on his imagination to fill in the blanks. Blood rushes to his cheeks and he quickly looks back down at his feet, lest she see his childish reaction.
Helenne closes the distance and takes his hand, tilting his chin up with her other hand so he is forced to face her. Her eyes are filled with amused affection for her old friend. “Of course, you sweet idiot. Come here…”
She misses the look of pure relief that flashes across Kurt’s face as she pulls him into a fierce kiss, months of pent-up emotion leading into a desperate clashing of lips. Kurt’s hesitation melts into eagerness when their lips meet, and his hands begin to gently roam Helenne’s body—too gently.
Breathlessly, Helenne breaks the kiss and cups Kurt’s face with both hands. His eyes flutter open and the depths of the adoration she sees there fuel the flames of her love and desire for this hard man. She spins them both around and forces him backwards until the back of his legs touch her bed. With a grin, she pushes his chest, making him sit.
Kurt looks up at Helenne, searching her face and very clearly awaiting her orders. She bites her lip—his eagerness to obey her is deliciously maddening but she can see the fire in his eyes. How long can he hold back?
Without pause, she lifts her shift up to her waist and climbs on top of him, straddling his legs. The glimpse of the naked, soft curve of her hips and the heat in between makes Kurt‘s breath hitch and his imagination run wild, but Helenne’s words bring him back to reality. Her tone is gentle but firm as she tells him, “I am not a porcelain doll, Kurt. You’re not going to break me.”
Kurt’s hands that were, until then, resting uselessly by his side, settle around Helenne’s waist. His tone is unusually hesitant when he speaks, “You don’t know how much I have longed for this—for you.” He sighs and looks up at her, apologetically, “I haven’t done this in quite some time. I don’t want to rush it.”
Helenne strokes the scar across his lips fondly, her thumb lingering on his bottom lip. She gives him a gentle kiss before drawing back again, awaiting his inevitable question.
“And yourself?” Kurt finally asks, cupping her face and searching her expression.
“I have never lain with a man before,” she replies, matter of factly. “Surely, you know how nobles feel about extra-marital affairs: men can do as they please while women are crucified for it—typical hypocrisy.” She dismisses the thought with a wave of her hand. “However, the Prince lost any say in my affairs after all the lies he’s fed me.”
Discovering the truth of her heritage had deeply shaken her. Kurt wonders if that is pushing her to rash actions, such as spending the night with a boorish soldier like himself.
“But are you sure about this?” He strokes her cheek gently, then hesitates and drops his hand, “About me?”
She takes his hand again and holds it firmly. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life.” She smiles at him tenderly. “I care about you and I trust you unconditionally with my life every day. Trusting you with this feels right.”
Helenne gasps when Kurt suddenly pulls her into a tight embrace. “My sweet Excellency”, he whispers into her ear, before grabbing her hips, pressing her to himself, and lifting her effortlessly while standing back up. Helenne cups his face and kisses him fiercely, their teeth clicking together in their eagerness. He spins her around before dropping her back on to the bed and straightening back up. He can’t help but admire her figure: lying down, with the weight of her shift accentuating all her curves; he has never wanted to tear a piece of clothing off as much in his entire life.
Helenne’s gaze mirrors Kurt’s own. Her eyes roam from his parted lips, to his heaving chest, to this waist, and finally to the growing bulge of his trousers, where they linger a while longer in aroused curiosity.
When their gaze meets again, it is with a desperate longing that no force in the world can hope to break.
Helenne watches, enraptured, as Kurt removes his shirt. She has seen him shirtless before, but never has she wanted to touch the planes of his hard muscles as much as right then and there. He removes his belt but his fingers hesitate on the buttons of his trousers before ultimately dropping away. Helenne wonders if it’s out of a sense of decency, and of letting her decide when or if to take that final step. Foolish man, she thinks fondly to herself, before opening her arms wide and welcoming him into her passionate embrace.
Neither of them are experienced kissers. Kurt’s sexual encounters have always been about release, not love; and Helenne, though she has stolen a few kisses with noble suitors here and there, does not fare much better. And yet, their passion surpasses those mundane matters. Their lips part eagerly and their tongues seek each other; playfully at first, desperately at last, ultimately finding common ground in their inexperience.
Helenne’s arms roam Kurt’s back and her legs wrap around his waist as she pulls him tightly to herself, wanting to feel the weight of his body pressed snugly against hers. Kurt grunts at the sudden friction, and his hips snap forward, instinctively seeking more contact, before catching himself. Suddenly concerned over moving too fast, he breaks away to gauge her reaction. Equally breathless, Helenne gives him a heavy-lidded, lustful smile, and with her legs, brusquely pulls his hips towards herself once more. Kurt groans as their bodies meet again and shuts his eyes firmly, breathing raggedly while struggling to clear his mind. It truly had been too long; he was at risk of losing control and spilling in his trousers like some young, inexperienced lad. What would she think, then?
“Kurt…” He would never tire of hearing her say his name. Helenne’s voice brings him back as her hand snakes between them and reaches the top button of his trousers. With a quiet snap, it opens effortlessly, and her deft fingers move on to the second one. Something akin to panic fills him, and he fully breaks away from her, kneeling back on the bed.
Helenne scrambles up to him. Holding his face, she places a gentle kiss by his neck, just below his ear, her eagerness doing more for him than she could ever know. His body stiffens like a statue under her loving touches.
“Kurt? What’s wrong?” Concern fills her voice as she asks, “Do you not want this after all?”
Kurt lets out a sharp, nervous laugh. “How could I not want this?” he asks, incredulous, gesturing at her person. His voice wavers in a manner she has never heard before. “I— I want you so much I risk making your first time disappointing. And nothing would shame me more.”
“My sweet protector,” Helenne murmurs gently, while searching for the best words to calm him. After a moment, she takes his hand and squeezes it gently before meeting his eyes. “You have told me countless times that nobody is born knowledgeable, and that mastery is achieved through consistent practice. You have also told me that the fear of making mistakes impedes progress. Now, I don’t know about you, but I plan to have many more nights of practice with you.” She gives him a mischievous grin before letting her expression turn serious again. “But to answer your most pressing concern, nothing you could do would ever disappoint me. My fondness for you would only grow if you deigned to share a moment of weakness with me.”
“Turning my own teachings against me… You have always had a way with words,” Kurt replies with a sheepish smile.
“I hope to have a way with more than words,” she tells him, with a fierce look.
“I am dying to find out—“ he says thickly, before their lips clash again. Helenne’s hands are immediately drawn to that last pesky button, while Kurt’s hands move under her shift to cup her breasts. A hum of appreciation escapes his mouth at their softness, cut short by a sharp intake of breath when his length springs free of its confines. Helenne immediately pulls away to observe him.
Kurt is unsure of what to do. Kneeling on the bed and feeling naked in more ways than one under her curious gaze. But most of all, feeling unworthy and undeserving of her attention.
Meanwhile, Helenne marvels at his figure and moves closer, running a finger from the base of his hard shaft all the way to the soft tip, collecting some of the wetness that has gathered there. She reluctantly tears her eyes away to look back up at him. “It is so soft but hard at the same time. I had heard it described and never quite understood it; it seemed contradictory. I understand now,” she says, voice filled with wonder, and ever fearless continues her exploratory touches. Her hand wraps around and tugs at him gently before slipping down past his shaft. Upon finding his sack, she gives it a few careful squeezes. “Oh, that’s fun!” she exclaims, delighted, seemingly oblivious to Kurt’s growing difficulty in standing still. He shuts his eyes tightly, slowly exhaling out of his nose and muttering a prayer, while she continues fondling him, marvelling at how his cock seems to respond to her touches, hardening further, and at how Kurt’s breath keeps hitching.
“Do you enjoy this?” she asks quietly, despite already knowing the answer.
“Enough,” Kurt snaps and pushes her back onto the bed. Helenne laughs as she falls backwards, and watches him in anticipation as he kicks his boots off, removes his pants and climbs back on top of her. He pulls the hem of her shift up to her hips and tells her, “Lift!”, in his stern captain voice, and she hurries to comply. He moves the shift past her hips and up to her neck, exposing her breasts. He had felt their softness earlier, but the sight still manages to take his breath away. Helenne’s chest heaves in excitement, the movement beckoning him closer, and he bends down to kiss each breast tenderly, almost reverently, while she weaves her fingers through his hair and moans softly. Her sighs spur him on, and he experimentally flicks his tongue across one nipple. He’d overheard talk amongst his men that some women quite enjoyed that and the way Helenne wiggles and sighs under him tells him they were right. He gazes up at her face while slowly, deliberately, running his tongue all around her nipple and sucking it gently. She tugs at his hair appreciatively and gives him a tilted, surprised smile that silently tells him “more.”
With one last deliberate flick of his tongue Kurt draws back to help Helenne remove her shift before leaning over and resuming his attentions. He slowly begins trailing kisses down her neck, her collar, in between her breasts, and down the line of her stomach. Each kiss leaves goose bumps in its wake to mark its delicious passing.
Helenne watches Kurt with bated breath and a heart full of love. She has always known he has a gentle heart, but she could never have expected his touch to be the same. He is a man of violence, born into it and living it every day of his life; gentle, soft touches do not come naturally to him, and yet…
She moves his dishevelled hair out of his face so she can once more see his piercing eyes. When he looks up at her, there are no traces of hesitation in the depths of his gaze, only purpose, and something else that sends butterflies down her stomach.
Kurt plants a kiss right above her undergarments and looks back up at her, questioningly. Helenne nods and lifts her hips to help him along. With his heart threatening to leave his chest, and afraid of his own eagerness, he slowly pulls the garments down before discarding them. Then, he begins a feather-touch stroke with the back of his hand, from her foot, to her knee, up to her thigh; there, his fingers turn and slip into her inner thigh which he squeezes gently before spreading her leg.
The cool air of the room caresses Helenne’s wetness, startling her. Suddenly feeling shy, she slams her legs shut on Kurt’s hand and gives him an alarmed look.
Kurt’s heart sinks and he curses himself for moving too fast, but Helenne immediately offers him an apologetic smile and takes his other hand, pulling him up towards her. She cups his face, gently tilting it down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Knowing you—“ she kisses his brow, “—you’re blaming yourself for this—“ her lips brush softly against his cheek. “I was briefly startled, that’s all.” She locks eyes with him, her voice firm but tender as she finishes, “Don’t you dare remove that hand.”
Her lips meet Kurt’s, desperately trying to convey the depth of her feelings and the sincerity of her words. They remain embraced for a time, the whole of which Kurt’s hand remains firmly in place, not daring to explore further.
“Tell me what to do,” he asks her, breathlessly. “Guide me.” The eager passion in his eyes and his desperation to please her fuel the flames of Helenne’s growing heat. She kisses him again, and snakes her hand in between their bodies to rest on his own hand, by her inner thigh. Taking his hand, she moves it up her inner thigh as she spreads her legs. When his fingers first touch her wetness, Kurt lets out a pleased hum and Helenne’s breath catches in anticipation. After a moment, she guides his hand up through her folds, towards her clit, and her back arches slightly when one of his fingers finds it. Kurt watches her curiously as she begins drawing tight circles with his fingers over that very sensitive spot. Her head falls back in pleasure, and her sighs are like music to his ears—he wants to make her sing every day for the rest of his life.
“This feels good?” He asks her, genuinely curious, as he touches that wondrous bit of flesh, so easy to miss. She hums in assent, and withdraws her hand, trusting him to take over the motion for her. He continues lazily stroking and rubbing that very special bud while intently watching her face. As she squirms under him, his fingers part her folds and stroke along the flesh, dipping them down to coat them in her arousal before moving back up.
Helenne’s desperate, growing need for Kurt emboldens her, and she guides his hand lower once more, pushing the tip of one of his digits towards her entrance. “Please,” she begs him.
“How can I deny Your Excellency’s request?” he breathes.
Slicking his middle finger in her wetness, he positions it by her entrance and ever so slowly begins to push it inside. Helenne sighs, and Kurt shudders and squeezes his eyes shut before wrestling back control with a deep breath. When he opens his eyes again, Helenne is gazing at him with such an open, loving expression that he could have unravelled right then and there, had he not been equally enthralled by her.
Kurt repositions himself, propped up on one of his forearms, so he can kiss her while touching her but ensuring his own hips are nowhere near her, lest he ends before he starts.
His finger begins gliding in and out of her, gently probing her inner walls, marvelling at her wetness. “More,” she pleads, and Kurt hums in assent. A second digit joins the first with no resistance and continues the relentless motion. Helenne moans against his mouth and he devours her moans as he draws more and more from her, like a starving man.
The coiled tension in her belly grows and grows and begins to beg for release. As he continues his delicious motion, her hand unconsciously snakes down between her legs, seeking that sensitive spot. Kurt pauses, observing the motion, before gently moving her hand out of the way. Her protesting whine turns into a pleased hum when Kurt adds his thumb to his ministrations, massaging her clit while his fingers continue to slide in and out of her. Helenne’s hips buck up, seeking more, and graze his erection. He hisses against her mouth. Light, but he was going to unravel before even entering her. He is not a religious man but at that moment he calls on all the gods for all the mental fortitude they can offer.
He withdraws from her mouth and urgently whispers in her ear, “My sweetness…” He moves his fingers faster, deeper, and Helenne suddenly tenses under and around him, hot and desperate for release. “You are… incredible,” he breathes, coaxing her.
“Kurt—” she begins, wrapping her arms around his neck, but his name morphs into a cry as the hot pressure building within her crests and the first waves of her orgasm crash over her. Kurt claims her mouth once more as she shudders and writhes under him, and he continues to encourage her throughout her climax with his fingers. For a moment, the world is a blur and her body feels weightless.
Eventually, gentle aftershocks replace the ecstasy and clarity returns to her. She begins to breathe again and opens her eyes to see Kurt looming over her with a wild, hungry look in his eyes; his iron grip on the bed’s fabric turning his knuckles white. He blinks and his eyes refocus, softening, but he could never mask the lust within. Helenne’s gaze is suddenly drawn downwards, following the trail of his body, where he stands erect and ready. Glistening.
“I need you,” he rasps. “Right now.”
The needy, hot ache between her legs reawakens.
Helenne pushes Kurt off and down onto the bed in one smooth roll and straddles his hips. He grabs her ass roughly, pulling her towards him, but she deftly takes his hands and, after a brief struggle, pins them above his head. The look of utter bewilderment on his face earns him a laugh from Helenne, who brings one hand down to hold his face tenderly before sliding it down his neck, slowly trailing his body until it reaches his length. She slips her hand around his smooth erection, and strokes it slowly. He groans and bucks his hips into her hand, seeking more friction, and Helenne kisses him deeply while continuing her unhurried stroke. Kurt does not kiss her back; he turns his face and takes a long, ragged breath, his control so close to shattering.
Helenne positions his tip right by her sleek entrance.
In one brief moment of clarity, Kurt rasps, urgently, “Last chance, Green Blood.” He looks at her with an intensity that sends shivers down her spine. “Once you begin, I won’t be able to stop myself.”
Helenne holds his gaze in challenge as she lowers herself onto him—agonisingly slowly. Kurt grips the sheets above his head as though holding on for dear life, not daring to move during such a delicate moment, despite desperately wanting to — no, needing to. My bold sweetness, he thinks to himself, somewhere in between all the prayers he can remember.
That initial stretch stings, but all Helenne can focus on is the intense, mixed look of adoration, disbelief and desperation on Kurt’s face. She will be sore later but there is something so deeply compelling about having Kurt at her mercy and about to lose it between her legs... With a few false starts, she readjusts herself into a more comfortable position, while he waits patiently. His gaze slowly morphs into something predatory—akin to a lion waiting for the right moment to pounce.
His body shakes slightly when she finally sheathes him all the way and a breathy groan escapes his lips. The smooth, hard feel of him, so deep inside her, feels nothing short of perfect. His hands fly up to cup and squeeze her breasts and the pleasure causes her to tighten her walls around him reflexively. His eyes widen and his hands suddenly drop down to her hips, grabbing them roughly before burying himself into her even deeper. Helenne gasps and falls forward as her world explodes into a perfect blend of pleasure with a sweet hint of pain.
Kurt blinks and worriedly searches her expression but Helenne‘s gasp has already turned into an exhilarated smile. Assuaged, he coaxes her hips up, and slowly begins sliding in and out of her, while one of his hands roams her soft body, setting every nerve on fire. Her mewls spur him on, and he drops his hand back to her hip and begins thrusting into her relentlessly, again and again, in a punishing rhythm. Helenne bends lower and claims his mouth the way he claims her heat: passionately. Desperately.
Suddenly, a shudder begins to rock him and a deep growl begins to build in his throat. Helenne hums against him, eager to see this hard man unravel for her—because of her. She does her utmost to meet his rhythm, coaxing his release, and draws back from his mouth to get a perfect view of his unravelling.
His body tenses and his rhythm falters as he thrusts up into her one last time, his fingers digging almost painfully into her ass as he spends himself inside her with a choked sound.
For a moment, all is still. Kurt’s body softens under her, and their laboured breathing rings out in the otherwise silent room.
Helenne lovingly gazes down upon him, feeling more than a little proud. She hadn’t climaxed again, but somehow, knowing that she was responsible for Kurt’s dishevelled state gave her just as much pleasure. Besides, the night was still young.
The sound of a long, drawn out breath jolts her out of her thoughts and her eyes refocus on Kurt’s face. His eyes flutter open but instead of meeting hers, they deftly avoid them to settle on something to her left. She turns her head, following his gaze, but finds nothing of consequence in the room. Turning back to him with a frown, she searches his expression for a clue; she doesn’t need to seek long to find the terrible emotion clinging to him like a shroud.
Guilt.
“Look at me,” she commands him, but the only flicker of recognition is a slight downturn of the corners of his mouth. “Kurt, look at me,” she tells him again, cupping his face, and attempting to turn his head.
Nothing. Well, she knows exactly how to get his attention.
“I see. I was that bad, was I?” She gives him a self-deprecating half smile. “I am sorry, you must forgive my inexperience.”
Kurt grimaces and instantly jerks to face her, his words stumbling out in a frantic jumble. “No! I— you— how—”
When he can't form a coherent sentence, he shifts to get up, prompting Helenne to worriedly move aside. He swings his legs off the bed and sits up, then slumps forward, burying his face in his hands.
“Talk to me,” she asks gently, moving across the bed to kneel behind him. She reaches for his shoulder but hesitates at the last second, afraid her touch might startle him away.
Lying there, following his bliss, Kurt’s mind had gone over and over the exact moment his control had shattered and he’d relentlessly fucked the woman he loved, like some prostitute. He truly had been too pent up. How she hasn’t shouted him out of her room yet completely baffles him. He waits with bated breath for her inevitable outburst, but it doesn’t come.
“Did I hurt you?” he finally asks, his gaze fixed on the floor. The thought of it is unbearable; he would never forgive himself if he had.
“No, Kurt,” she reassures him gently. “I would have stopped you if you had. You know I’m more than capable of overpowering you.”
For a moment, Kurt’s eyebrows shoot up, pride flaring through his concern. He snorts at her remark. “Doubtful,” he protests with a hint of a smirk.
“That sounds an awful lot like a challenge,” she teases, suddenly grabbing his shoulders and pulling him backwards onto the bed. He falls back with a surprised grunt, and in one fluid motion, she glides to the side and straddles him. As he starts to struggle to get up, she presses her hand firmly against his chest, holding him down.
Finding himself in the exact same situation for the second time that evening, Kurt curses under his breath and looks helplessly at Helenne, like a rabbit caught in a trap. Just as he prepares to rise again, this time with more deliberate force, she leans over him, capturing his uncertain gaze with her steady, unwavering eyes. “I genuinely enjoyed myself. I thought you did, too.”
Kurt blinks, momentarily stunned, before the overwhelming intensity of his feelings floods to the surface and he bares them all to Helenne. “How can you say that?” he asks, his voice cracking as he stares at her in disbelief. “I lost myself and I am ashamed to admit to having so little discipline as to let my impulses take over me like some animal,” he admits, grimacing. “I am so deeply ashamed. I only hope you can forgive me.” His voice falters and he turns his head away in defeat, unable to meet her gaze.
Helenne leans closer until their noses touch and her hot breath caresses his face. Kurt tries to disappear into the mattress, praying it engulf him right then and there, rather than face this incredible woman.
She gives him a gentle kiss on the lips. “There is nothing to forgive. Please don’t put me on a pedestal like a fragile ornament; I get enough of that from everyone else.”
“That’s not—“
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course, but—”
“Then listen. That was… incredible,” Helenne breathes, unable to contain the excitement in her voice.
Kurt frowns at her, confused. “Even when I—“
“Especially then,” she tells him, with such a sensual undertone that Kurt is suddenly reminded that they’re both still naked—and she’s still sitting right on top of him. Her eyes blaze with the depth of her emotions, mesmerising him; he cannot look away.
“Feeling you shake and jerk beneath me was one of the most satisfying moments of my life,” she whispers against his mouth, brushing his lips before drawing back slightly and grinning mischievously, “More so than besting you for the first time.”
Kurt says nothing. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. He can do nothing but stare up at her in a wondrous daze.
For a few moments, all is still. They stare deeply into each other’s eyes, their lips almost touching, both barely breathing, when suddenly Kurt bridges the gap and kisses Helenne fiercely. She welcomes his kiss and rolls her hips against him, seeking to close the chasm he had created between them. When he begins to harden again in response she smiles deviously against his mouth, and playfully declares, “My dear master at arms is not as disciplined as he always claimed to be. There is something ironically delicious about that.”
Then, she moves off of him to avoid distracting him further. “Everything is fine,” she says. “I am fine.” She presses a kiss to his forehead before scrambling off the bed and moving to the water basin to clean herself.
Still feeling dazed, Kurt sits up and props his back against the bed’s headboard. His gaze is inevitably drawn to Helenne’s figure as she slowly draws a wet sponge across her body, leaving shiny wet marks in its wake. When she bends over to wash between her legs Kurt averts his eyes.
The gentle sounds of water sloshing in the basin fill the room, creating a relaxing atmosphere that so heavily contrasts with Kurt’s inner turmoil. He had never ‘made love’ before, but he had been certain it would involve more restraint on the man’s part. This whole situation has him feeling like a raw and untested recruit: wide-eyed and clueless.
He runs his hand through his face, pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose, and makes a frustrated sound. Perhaps the most important part of making love is simply loving the other person. He definitely had that part covered, although he still didn’t know how deep Helenne’s feelings for him ran. But if she had enjoyed it as much as he had…
He gazes at the ceiling, her sincere words echoing in his mind, replaying over and over until he finally reaches a decision.
Taking a deep breath, he attempts a light-hearted tone, asking, "Can we have a rematch?" Yet, the words come out slightly choked.
Helenne freezes amidst towelling off and turns back to him. “A rematch?”
Kurt stands up, clears his throat and gives her a more confident smile. “A rematch. Your Excellency made several scathing remarks regarding my discipline. My honour is now at stake.”
Helenne’s eyes sparkle with affectionate amusement. “A good little soldier should know when to admit defeat.”
“A good pupil should do as she’s told,” he shoots back.
“I am no longer your pupil.”
“And I'm not a good little soldier.”
Kurt takes a step forward as Helenne discards her towel and, like a spring, leaps on him. They fall back on the bed, but this time, Kurt is ready and immediately rolls, topping her and pinning her arms above her head. Helenne twists and turns under him, attempting to free her legs, but he pushes her thighs wide, moving his knees up and under her legs to keep her pinned down. He trails a line of kisses along her jaw as she continues to half-heartedly squirm under him, succeeding only in grinding herself against his reawakened erection. This time, he leisurely rolls his hips towards her, and makes it a point to rub just against her precious bud with each gentle rocking motion.
“You are playing dirty,” Helenne says hoarsely.
“Hardly,” he replies, continuing his languid thrusts. “I read my opponent—Adapted to their moves—Learned their weaknesses—” He punctuates each sentence with a slow thrust, the ripples of pleasure adding to the coiled tension in Helenne’s belly as she bridges her hips, seeking more friction.
Kurt releases Helenne’s arms so his hands can roam her body and she immediately wraps them around him, her nails digging into his back. He groans into her neck before pulling back slightly so he can speak.
“I can’t promise to stop putting you on a pedestal,” he says thickly, pausing to kiss her neck. “But I can promise that that pedestal is built out of love, not duty.”
“I… can accept that,” Helenne replies, although at that moment she might have agreed to anything provided he did not stop.
And he did not.
With all sense of urgency gone—at least for a time—Kurt showered Helenne with all the attention and love he had kept buried deep in his heart. His touches became more assured, his body more attuned to her reactions. He committed every shiver, every sigh, every buck, every whimper to his memory, and he made good use of this newfound precious knowledge. He had always been a quick learner, mastering new martial moves effortlessly, and to him this was no different. When Helenne finally cried out his name, clinging to him desperately as though he was the only thing anchoring her to this world, he realised he had never felt this happy. And then he joined her. Meeting her in that paradise of bliss where only lovers meet.
Flushed and deeply sated, they kissed and held each other tenderly until sleep overcame them. And then they dreamt of one another, though no dream could ever compare to the reality of their passion.