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The love of a man and woman is holy, the Reverend Mother had told Maria, yet Maria felt that nothing could have prepared her for the absolute warmth, joy and intimacy of marriage.
She’d had some inkling, of course – how could she not after the multitude of wonderful and passionate kisses she’d shared with Georg in the gazebo that magical night when he’d professed his love to her and proposed? Kisses that gave her tingles all up and down her body, his tender caresses that made her skin feel like it was on fire? Then even in the chaos of their engagement period constantly surrounded by chaperones, it was those stolen moments where he’d pull her into a closet or behind a curtain to kiss her deeply and convincingly, giving her the kind of kisses that made her tummy do a little flip and kept her mind distracted for the rest of the day with thoughts of him, and only him.
Even more, Georg’s smouldering looks across a room that left her feeling breathless, or the way his fingers would casually drum across her skin as he held her hand, she suspected that love and intimacy could feel like this, but she’d really had no idea what it would be like until he took her into his bed on their wedding night.
Gentle, loving and affectionate – Georg opened her eyes to a new world of love, a world that was delicate, yet passionate and intimate, a world that was only him and her. Of course, Maria had lots to learn but she was very enthusiastic – wanting Georg to show her and teach her everything all at one. But he’d taken things slow, gently introducing her to the delights of lovemaking, and making her feel adored, cherished and loved as she found total and absolute bliss in his arms.
Maria loved and explored all the new sensations she was experiencing as a wife and a lover: the tenderness of Georg’s touch, the gentle caress of his fingertips all over her body, the warmth of his lips on her skin, the glorious ecstasy of final release, as well as the physicality of his strong, muscular body entwinned around hers, one arm always wrapped protectively around her body as they slept. Everything he did set a fire inside Maria’s belly, a fire of passion and desire for him and him alone. Maria never knew that love could feel like this.
But apart from learning about the intimacies of their marriage bed, Maria had a lot to learn about the honeymoon too. Their first morning in Paris, Maria had leap out of bed with a boundless amount of energy, ready with a mental list of everything she wanted to do in Paris. But Georg had merely smiled, then gently told her that the point of a honeymoon was for a couple to get to know each other better, to have time just for them and that Paris could wait, before he coaxed her back to bed.
So time went by and they barely saw Paris, apart from their exquisite view from the balcony of their hotel suite. Yet occasionally, they’d reluctantly tear themselves from each other’s arms, dress and leave the room to go for a leisurely stroll along the Seine, or visit a museum or gallery, before, not being able to resist each other for even one minute longer, they’d take a taxi in a rush back to their suite where they would indulge in the pleasures of each other once again.
One thing that had Maria intrigued about Georg was how he presented himself in different settings. Before their marriage and throughout their engagement, and even way earlier than that before his icy exterior had melted when he’d adopted the persona of the cold and foreboding Captain, Georg was always so meticulous about his appearance. From his crisp collared shirts and the painstaking way he ensured his tie was correctly knotted and completely straight, to how he carefully removed any traces of lint from his suit jacket. Even the polish of his shoes was perfect! He was completely and utterly ‘buttoned up’, so to speak, even down to the styled poof of his hair.
Yet, behind closed doors with Maria, he was entirely different. Casual and relaxed, especially as he lounged and reclined on their dishevelled bed only wearing pyjama pants, a smile on his lips or warmly laughing at something Maria had said, or as he ate breakfast with her on their balcony barefoot and in a bathrobe tied loosely so that the faint smattering of his chest hair could be seen through the opening of his robe.
But the particular thing that Maria noticed about Georg, the thing she became completely fascinated in, was his hair. Maria would watch his morning routine as he did his hair, if and when they were ever venturing out of the room. After his shower, he’d comb the damp hair this way and that, then rub a smidgin of hair gel onto both hands, spreading it evenly, before he’d run his fingertips through his dark curls three times, slightly adjusting the style before he was satisfied with the amount of ‘poof’ his hair had acquired. She found his routine captivating and adorable!
But it was not his meticulous ‘Captain hair’ that Maria loved. No, she loved the look of his hair first thing in the mornings, when it was mussed up and messy from sleep. When he hadn’t added his little smidgin of hair gel to it, it was unbelievably soft and wavy. She loved how the little curl would droop down his forehead then how he’d casually swipe that rogue curl away with a slight drag of a finger. Maria especially loved the feel of his hair when she’d run her fingers through it, particularly when they were in the throes of love making. Sometimes when Georg would pull her into his lap and kiss her deeply and passionately, she just couldn't help herself but thread her fingers through his dark and wavy locks as they kissed.
It almost seemed a shame that he would ruin his hair by running gel through it whenever they’d leave the hotel suite.
So one morning towards the end of their honeymoon when they were about to uncharacteristically go out for breakfast together instead of eating inside their hotel suite, Maria stood at the bathroom door watching Georg prepare for the morning. Fresh from his morning shower, he had a towel wrapped around his waist and had just finished shaving. Whistling cheerfully, Georg began his usual routine of combing his damp locks this way and that way, getting it perfect. But just as he reached for the hair gel, Maria spoke out.
“Georg?”
“Hmm?” He glanced up at her reflection in the mirror and gave her a warm smile.
She took a couple of steps into the bathroom then tentatively ran her fingertips through his slightly damp hair. “Perhaps you could not put that in today?” she suggested.
He frowned slightly. “You don’t like it?”
But Maria just smiled. “No, I didn’t say that. Only, I think I prefer it this way.” She once again ran her fingertips through his hair, taking the time to play with his dark locks, curling her fingers through it them brushing his hair backwards off his forehead.
As she dropped her hand, he wrapped both arms around her waist. “For you, darling. Anything.”
Tilting his head downwards, he placed a soft and tender kiss on her lips, then a second kiss followed by a third, and suddenly their kisses quickly escalated to something deeper and much more passionate.
Pulling away breathless, Maria’s cheeks were flushed but she had a mischievous glint in her eye. “How about we skip breakfast? I think Paris can wait.”
Georg gazed back at her with a look that was full of desire as he was completely in raptures with her. “Yes, it certainly can,” he replied as he crashed his lips onto hers.
The love, desire and intimacies of marriage were absolutely like nothing she’d ever known, thought Maria as Georg swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. She ran her hand once again through his soft, wavy hair as he placed her on the bed and kissed her passionately again. But she wouldn’t give this feeling up for the world.
Maria was in total bliss.