"My love," Fenrir said after a brief moment of silence, his voice filled with earnest emotion. "Will you marry me?" He asked, looking deeply into Aisling's eyes.
Aisling gasped, her heart racing. In their world, marriage between mates was the highest form of honor, deepening their bond in extraordinary ways. They would share thoughts, be linked to each other's wolves, and know immediately if the other was unfaithful. It would solidify their leadership of the pack and designate their offspring as legitimate heirs.
Overwhelmed, Aisling feared Fenrir was simply carried away by the moment. "My love, that's a big decision, especially given your station. Please reconsider," she said, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Hearing her hesitation, Fenrir gently flipped her onto her back on the bed and positioned himself above her, his eyes never leaving hers. "You are the only one deserving to be my legitimate wife," he said, his voice firm yet tender. "You will be my equal, my partner, my life, and my love. Please say yes."
His sincerity, the depth of his commitment, and the passion in his gaze melted her reservations. Finally, she whispered, "Yes."
Fenrir's face lit up with joy, and without wasting another moment, he kissed her deeply. The night unfolded with a blend of love and passion, Fenrir began by slowly and sensually undressing Aisling.
His touch was reverent, his fingers gently sliding down her shoulders, peeling away her robes with a tender care that made her shiver. He took his time, savoring the moment, making sure she felt cherished with each movement.
Once she was bare before him, he let his eyes roam over her body, admiring her as if she were divine. "You are so beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. His hands followed the path of his gaze, caressing her skin with a softness that sent tingles down her spine.
He leaned in, trailing kisses along her neck, down to her collarbone, and across her shoulders. His lips were warm and inviting, each kiss a promise of the pleasure to come. He continued his journey, worshiping every inch of her with his mouth. When he reached her breasts, he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently while his hand kneaded the other breast. Aisling gasped, arching into his touch, her body aflame with desire.
Fenrir moved lower, his kisses trailing down her stomach, making her muscles flutter with anticipation. He spread her legs gently, positioning himself between them. His tongue flicked out, tasting her, and she cried out in ecstasy. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt, his tongue skillfully teasing her most intimate part. He licked and sucked, his movements deliberate and precise, bringing her to the edge of pleasure.
When he switched to using his finger, she felt a moment of tightness and fear. His finger was big, and she instinctively tensed up. Sensing her hesitation, Fenrir leaned up and whispered in her ear, "Relax, my love. Let me pleasure you." His voice was soothing, and his breath against her ear sent shivers down her spine.
She took a deep breath and tried to relax, trusting him completely. Slowly, he slid his finger inside her, moving with a rhythm that soon had her gasping and moaning. His thumb circled her sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. He found the perfect rhythm, alternating between his finger and his tongue, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
When she finally climaxed, it was the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. Her body convulsed with pleasure, her cries filling the room. Fenrir continued his ministrations, drawing out her pleasure until she was spent and trembling in his arms.
Panting and satisfied, Aisling looked up at him with wide eyes, still coming down from the high of her orgasm. Fenrir smiled tenderly, kissing her lips softly. "Did you enjoy that, my love?" he asked, his voice filled with love and satisfaction.
She nodded, unable to find the words to describe the bliss she felt. Fenrir held her close, his heart beating in sync with hers. This was only the beginning of their night, and he intended to make every moment unforgettable for her.
When the time came, Aisling felt a wave of fear. Fenrir was so big, and she was uncertain if her body could handle him. Sensing her apprehension, Fenrir leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. "It will be alright, my love," he whispered soothingly. "I'll be gentle."
With tender patience, he coaxed her into relaxation, peppering her with gentle kisses and soft touches. Slowly, he began to enter her, inch by inch, allowing her body to adjust to his size. The sensation of being filled by him was overwhelming, and she felt like she might burst. But Fenrir was careful, his every movement filled with love and reverence.
Once her body had adjusted, Fenrir began to move with a steady rhythm. The sensations were unlike anything Aisling had ever experienced. She found herself moaning in pleasure, her body responding instinctively to his. He became one with her, making love to her in a way that even Aiden never had. The intensity of their connection was undeniable, each thrust deepening their bond.
As they neared the climax, the spirit of their wolves emerged, adding another layer to their union. When Fenrir released his seed within her, they both howled in ecstasy, their wolves' spirits intertwining and solidifying their bond. This union was something that had never happened with Aiden, confirming that Fenrir was indeed her true mate.
The joining of their wolves' spirits was a powerful assurance that they would be blessed with offsprings. As they lay entwined, catching their breath, Aisling felt a profound sense of completeness. Fenrir held her close, his eyes reflecting the same sense of fulfillment and love. They were not just mates; they were soulmates, bound together by a bond that was both spiritual and physical.
Their love-making was not just an act of physical intimacy but a sacred ritual that united their souls and spirits. It was a promise of a shared future, filled with love, strength, and the blessing of the Unseen Creator.