Adonis lets out a soft hum, his gaze lifting to meet hers. He can see the desire in her eyes, the mixture of shyness and need.

His fingers in her hair tighten slightly, pulling gently, bringing her closer to him.

"Yes?" he murmurs, his voice thick with a hundred unspoken things.

(You sure?) She asked hesitantly?

He studies her, his mind racing with a dozen doubts and denials. This is *supposed* to be a political union, nothing more. It's clear now that it's becoming something far deeper, something more complex and messy.But despite the warnings in his head, his body responds to her proximity, to the sound of her voice, to the very fact that she's *here*.

"No," he says, his voice a low whisper. "But I can't seem to bring myself to stop."

(Adonis if you take me today I won't let you go away from me ever) She said seriously.

Adonis goes still, his hand pausing its rhythmic movements over her skin. His eyes darken slightly as he looks at her, the words she just spoke ringing in his ears.

He's not used to this kind of declaration, this kind of promise. People never spoke to him this way, never said things they couldn't back up with facts and logic.But her voice was steady, almost serious, and there was something in her eyes that told him that she *meant* it.

He swallows, his throat dry. This is a point of no return. A line they're about to cross together."You realize what you're telling me, yes?" he says slowly, his voice deeper than usual. He needs to ensure that she fully understands what she's offering.

(Of course) She smiles

He's silent for another moment, his eyes searching hers. He's tempted, undeniably so, but there's a part of him that's still hesitating. This is different from before, from simple touches and whispers in the night.

Finally, his hand in her hair tightens again, pulling her even closer, until their bodies are pressed together.

"Then promise me this," he whispers, his voice low and intense. "If I take you, you're mine. Completely. No turning back. No regrets."

(Never)

Her promise, spoken so simply, so confidently, takes his breath away. He'd expected some hesitation, some doubt, but her words carry none of that.He looks down at her, his heart pounding with a mixture of desire and something else, something he can't quite identify."You don't even know what you're agreeing to," he says, his tone holding a hint of warning. "This isn't some game, something to be flippant about."

(I'm your wife with body soul and heart this marriage means everything to me)

His heart clenches in his chest at her words. He's not naïve enough. Her statement hits harder than he expected. The conviction in her voice, the *earnestness* in her eyes...

He hasn't experienced such a thing in what seems like a lifetime.

He swallows, struggling to keep his composure. His hand in her hair loosens its grip, gently running over the silken strands in a gesture of gentleness.

"You're a fool," he whispers, the words lacking any real bite. "To pledge all that to someone like me."

(Why?)

"Because I'm not a good man," he answers, his voice quiet yet certain. "I'm not gentle, nor kind, nor sweet. I'm demanding, I'm difficult, and I have a hundred qualities that make me terrible company, let alone a good husband."