The wedding ceremony had been simple, but the reception that followed was nothing short of exquisite.
Barbara and Rickel—the stars of the day—were completely wrapped in happiness.

Their eldest grandson, Theo, had long since been put to bed, unable to keep his drowsy eyes open any longer. The remaining guests were contentedly immersed in fine Odair wine and a lavish feast.

Seizing the moment, Grey quietly slipped away with his wife.

“It’s been ages since we’ve had a proper party!”

He pulled her along by the hand. Regina gave him a playful glare. Grey leaned in and kissed her warmly on the eyelids.

“I’ve waited long enough.”

“But we just did it the other night! Theo nearly walked in—I was scared to death.”

“I’ve installed a new lock on the master bedroom door. Nothing to worry about anymore.”

“What?!”

Caught off guard, Regina stared at him—then burst out laughing.

But her laughter faded the moment Grey undressed her and gently laid her down on the bed.

She had shared herself with him many times since giving birth, and yet every time still felt as electric and intimate as the first. Or perhaps it was Grey himself who felt different now.

Unlike before, when desire often overwhelmed reason, this time he moved with intention. Every touch, every breath, was centered on her.

“Ah…”

That first moment of accepting him was always intense. Even through the fear that her body might tear, she welcomed him—a stark contrast to the past, when such moments had felt more like submission than intimacy.

But this was nothing like that.

There was no forceful claiming, no desperation to reach an end. Grey held her with gentleness, with patience—slow and steady, as if every movement was a silent promise. They weren’t just fulfilling desire; they were connecting.

“Regina.”

He whispered, gazing into her eyes as he stroked her cheek.

He kissed her slowly, again and again, brushing soft kisses across her lips until her body relaxed beneath his. Each kiss sent ripples through her chest, her heart pounding so hard it left her breathless.

She covered her lips with her hand and tried to push him away, weakly.

“You mustn’t.”

As Regina tried to push him away, Grey gently caught her wrist. But instead of pressing her into the cold sheets like he once might have, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, intertwining their fingers—as if he never wanted to let go.

“May I move?”

“Mmh… gently…”

And he did—holding her with such tenderness, she felt as though she might melt beneath his touch.

It wasn’t just pleasure. It was fulfillment. Not the feeling of being taken, but of being cherished.
Completely, and without reservation.

It was overwhelming—like tasting something far too sweet on an empty stomach. Her head spun with bliss.

He brushed her hair back from her face, fingers tracing along her forehead with reverent care. The way he looked at her—so open, so full of wonder—was like a man seeing the stars for the very first time.

“You’re beautiful.”

“…Liar.”

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you right now.”

His voice, low and sincere, wrapped around her like warmth. Blushing, Regina clung to him, her arms around his neck. She shut her eyes tightly, overwhelmed.

She moved slightly beneath him in silent invitation, and he stilled for a breath, trembling.

“Ah… you…”

“Hurry.”

He gritted his teeth, struggling for control, knowing how completely she drew him in.

“Grey…”

The way she called his name—soft, breathless—set fire to his mind. All thought faded. Only the need to hold her closer remained.

Every motion now was careful, measured—guided not by urgency, but by longing. She met him with the same intensity, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, clinging as if she couldn’t bear to be apart.

And he held her just as tightly.

This woman—so small, yet filling his world—was everything.

He didn’t care about appearances, or that his body trembled from the effort to hold back. He pressed his cheek against her shoulder, brushing against the nape of her neck, lost in her presence.

And in that moment, there was nothing else—only them.

Regina tilted her head back, her breath catching as Grey moved slowly, deliberately, sending shivers through her entire body. Every motion stirred the most sensitive parts of her, making her tremble beneath him.

Her body responded instinctively, tightening around him with hypersensitive awareness. Even without words, she could feel every nuance—the shape of him, the warmth, the way he moved within her, unhurried and sure.

Though his rhythm wasn’t fast, it was consuming. Her breath hitched, her vision blurred, and a rush of warmth flooded through her like a wave of color behind her eyes.

“Regina.”

His voice was a low, reverent murmur, almost awed. When his hand brushed the nape of her neck and the back of her ear, goosebumps rose on her skin. His touch was gentle and patient; his hips moved like waves, his hands tracing heat along every inch of her body.

He knew her so well — every vulnerable spot and every place that made her melt. In his hands, she was like an instrument, singing with every touch and whisper.

“Regina.”

He kept saying her name like it was the only word that mattered. Holding her gently, he shifted, guiding her to move with him. His hands held her thighs, not with force, but with care—an invitation, not a demand.

Her heart pounded. She felt overwhelmed. He leaned forward, brushing his lips across her chest, his mouth pressing soft, open kisses as her breathing turned shallow and uneven.

She froze, her rhythm faltering. Embarrassed by how easily her body had given in, she tried to compose herself, but he moved again beneath her, slowly and steadily, sending a jolt through her core.

“Ah…!”

Even when he saw her body trembling, he didn’t rush. Instead, he held her close, kissing the spot just above her racing heart, continuing with deliberate tenderness.

Pleasure rose and fell like waves, each one sharp and fleeting, replaced by the next. It felt as though she were floating in a place too vast to grasp. It frightened her a little.

Tears welled in her eyes. Overwhelmed, she clung to him, her voice little more than a whisper.

“It… it feels strange…”

“It’s not strange.”

He murmured, brushing her damp hair from her forehead.

‘Then what is it?’

Before she could speak, he kissed her lips softly, as if to calm the ache in her chest.

“It means it feels good.”

“…Do you feel good too?”

He looked at her—truly looked at her—and smiled.

“I feel everything, because I’m with you.”

“I wish time could stop like this.”
“So do I.”

Saying that had been a mistake.

That night, Regina didn’t leave the bedroom until the first light of dawn spilled across the floor.

***

Regina stirred at the soft sensation of fingers brushing through her hair. Someone was gently tucking the loose strands behind her ear.

The touch was so light and reverent that it was as though she were handling something fragile enough to break easily. For a moment, she wondered if it was all a dream. Tempted to open her eyes, she kept them shut instead, yielding to the playful impulse to stay still and pretend to be asleep.

“……”

A warm, dry sigh fell against her hair.

Moments later, she felt the bed dip, then rise again. Through barely parted lashes, she saw him walking away.

Grey’s robe hung loosely over his broad shoulders, his back still faintly marked by the traces of her fingernails.

‘Is he really leaving…?’

“Shh.”

He whispered softly as he opened the door.

“Mom’s still sleeping.”

“Then can’t I come in?”

The sweet, chirping voice of their son tugged Regina further into wakefulness.

“Theodor Cabil. Didn’t you promise you’d start sleeping in your own bed after your birthday this year?”

“But the closet in my room opened by itself. There was no one there…”

Theo’s voice was full of wounded pride, as if injustice had been done to him.

Regina let out a sleepy sigh, reaching for her robe. Seeing her stir, Grey had no choice but to step aside and let their son in.

“Just for today.”

Theo breezed past him without acknowledging the condition—sharp like his father, he never agreed to terms that didn’t benefit him.

“Mother!”

Looking tousled and half-awake, Regina welcomed her son into her arms.

He nestled against her, rubbing his cheek against her like a small, contented fox.

Leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, Grey muttered as he watched them.

“I should’ve installed a new lock on the closet.”

“Grey. Come here too.”

Regina said with a gentle smile, opening her arms wide. Without a word, Grey crossed the room and climbed into bed beside them, pulling his wife and son close.

Everything he loved most in the world was right there with him.

***The End***