AYLETH
Etan looked like he'd almost swallowed his tongue. He sat up straight and his green eyes—almost the color of the bright grass scattered under the trees here—went wide behind the curtain of his black hair.
Strangely, his own discomfort made hers seem less. She grinned at him and cupped his handsome face, his jaw already shadowed since he hadn't shaved that morning. She let her nails catch in it. "You will be my husband, Etan. I will not allow anyone an opportunity to take this from us. And we don't know how it will go with our parents. We hope, of course, that it will go well. But what if it doesn't."
"Yes, but… Ayleth!" he sputtered.
She put her lips to his, just rested them there and his mouth, already partly open stayed soft to her. Desire curled in her belly. "I don't want to give myself to anyone but you, Etan," she whispered. "And even though I am nervous, I assure you, I want this a great deal."
