They strolled from the great hall w

They strolled from the great hall with measured steps, but once free from observant eyes, they rushed up the stairs and down the corridor, until at last they burst into their room. He caught her round the waist and leaned her up against the wooden door, kissing those soft lips that parted in invitation. He intended to make the most of this night, and it began now.
She trembled in his arms and tilted her head with a sigh.
“Myles.” She breathed out his name like a prayer and clutched at his back. “How shall I bear it while you’re gone from me?”
Her words caught his heart like a net, scooping it from his chest. He lifted his head to gaze at her face. “Will you miss me?” he whispered.
Her eyes were big and dark, as if she had not meant to make such an admission, but then she nodded and placed her hands on either side of his face. She kissed one corner of his mouth and stole his breath away.
“Yes,” she whispered.
She kissed the other corner.
“Yes.”
His body felt loose and light, floating on a breeze and anchored only by her velvet palms upon his cheeks. She ran a thumb over his lips and stared at his mouth until he thought that he might die from want of her.
“Yes,” she said once more, and then she kissed him.
His soul melted into her lips and her tongue and the arms she wrapped around his shoulders. Wherever her body met his was where he was alive, and so he must press all of himself into her. He urged her up against the door, hard, as if to forge them into one, and still he could not get close enough.
He snaked his arms around her waist and lifted, carrying her to the bed. They fell together and began at once to pull off one another’s clothes. In moments, they were breathless and joyful and naked, free from the hindrance of fabric or modesty. He lavished her with kisses, cherished her with his hands and mouth. She was his journey and his destination. That first day at Sinclair Hall, he’d thought her a thorny rose, but she was not. She was an orchid, rare and delicate, blooming for him alone.
He pressed her back against the covers, but she pushed at him instead, urging him onto his back. He rolled over and chuckled. God, what sinful delight. Her hair trailed down his chest, a sultry tickle, as her hands stroked every expectant inch of him. And when she took him in her mouth, the hot sweetness left him overwhelmed. In all the realm, there could be no other wife such as this.
And later, as they lay spent and satisfied, Myles lifted his head to gaze in wonder at this woman he’d been blessed with.
“I love you, Fiona.”
She touched his face and smiled.
"I love you too." She said, and he knew that it was true.