168

[REBECCA]
Moved by his vulnerability, I closed the distance between us, my hand finding solace on his racing heart. “It’s alright, Artemy. There’s no need to force it. Just be yourself. That’s all I want.”
“Did I ruin the proposal?” he questioned, his brow furrowed with concern.
With tenderness, I pressed a brief kiss to his lips. “No, not at all. It’s perfect so far. Just speak from your heart. That’s all that matters.”
He nodded and stepped back slightly, only to gracefully kneel before me.
Overwhelmed with emotion, I brought a quivering hand to my lips, holding back tears that welled up.
His fingers enveloped mine, his lips brushing against the back of my hand in a soft, lingering kiss. “I love you, Angel.”
Pausing, he let out a chuckle. “I was quite the jerk when we first met.”
A playful smile tugged at his lips before he continued, his words laced with sincerity. “Alright, maybe I still am at times. But you’ve changed me, Rebecca. You made me feel when I had closed myself off to it, when I thought I was beyond feeling.”
A solitary tear traced its path down my cheek, a testament to the emotions that enveloped us in that moment. With our hands still intertwined, he raised his head to meet my gaze.
“You showed me the essence of love when I had lost faith in its existence. I believed no angelic presence lingered in this world. Hope had abandoned me long ago. Then you walked into my life, proving my doubts wrong,” Artemy’s voice quivered with sentiment, each word carrying the weight of his feelings.
“I understand I’m far from flawless, but I believe I can be flawlessly yours. I’ll be the one to hold you close through the nights, to wipe away your tears, to coax smiles and laughter. I aspire to be the man who makes your heart dance in exhilaration. I want to share sweet intimacy with you,” his words held a pause as his eyes caressed my face.
A subtle smile played on my lips, my attention ensnared by his tender words and the oceanic hue of his eyes.
“Through passion, slow and tantalizing, or fervently swift and intense,” he continued, his voice hinting at both playfulness and raw desire.
I chuckled softly, shaking my head as if to banish the unexpected but oddly fitting turn the conversation had taken. “You truly are incorrigible.”
He shrugged nonchalantly before swallowing hard, a brief silence punctuating the moment before he spoke once more.
“Give me the chance to love you, my Angel. Allow me to embrace you in the way you deserve. Let me be the man by your side. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
My voice eluded me, leaving only a nod to convey my overwhelming agreement. The surge of emotions clogging my throat left me speechless, and I held back a sob as Artemy’s words continued to weave their spell on my heart.
He reached behind him, retrieving something from his pocket. With a gracious motion, he unveiled a small scarlet box. Upon opening it, my breath hitched at the sight that greeted me-a ring of delicate elegance. The centerpiece, a round diamond, was flanked by smaller ones on either side.
“Will you share your life with me as my queen? Will you be Rebecca Loskutov?” he inquired with heartfelt sincerity.
My response was but a whispered affirmation, barely audible. Artemy’s smile radiated joy as he carefully slid the ring onto my finger, the sunlight casting a luminous glow upon it.
Standing up, he towered over me, his presence reassuring and protective. “Artemy, you’ve granted me unparalleled happiness. I can’t fathom a greater joy.”
Recognizing our mutual sentiment, he elaborated, “We don’t yearn for grandeur. Our vows have already been exchanged. This intimate union is our perfect wedding, solely ours.”
He was right, a realization I embraced wholeheartedly. This intimate gathering was more than enough-just us, unburdened by the expectations of others.
Gazing at his hand, I realized a detail amiss. “But you’re without a ring.”
He met my gaze with a sheepish grin. “I’ve made arrangements, with a bit of help, of course.”
“A white dress, akin to a wedding gown, and the bouquet,” I mused, comprehension dawning.
Artemy nodded, confirming my suspicions.
Then it hit me, a surge of realization igniting my excitement. “The others-”
His smile widened as he drew me closer. “They walked me down the aisle?”
“It felt fitting. They’re your champions, giving their blessing as you become mine,” I murmured, moved by their gesture.
Tears traced my cheeks, and Artemy tenderly wiped them away.
“Shall we continue this ceremony?” he teased, his voice a soft murmur against my ear.
My nod conveyed eagerness as Artemy leaned back, his forehead finding mine. “I take you as my wife, promising to cherish and uplift you, to be your protector. I pledge love and devotion till my last breath.”
With a deep breath, he pressed on, his voice an intimate whisper. “I’ll safeguard you and our future, even if it means taking a life. I love you, my Angel.”
My breath hitched, my heart somersaulting at his vow. “And do you accept me as your husband?”
“Yes, I do.”
A fervent exclamation escaped him, and he embraced me ardently, claiming my lips with fiery passion.
“Wait,” I interjected breathlessly. “It’s my turn.”
I carefully arranged the vibrant blossoms on the surface, receiving a nod of approval from him. As he did, he extended another box toward me. My anticipation grew as I lifted the lid, revealing the gleaming emblem of commitment: his ring. Its design was elegantly understated, yet its significance held immense weight. Sliding it onto his finger, I spoke the vows that welled up within me.
“In you, Artemy, I find my partner, my spouse. I embrace every facet of your being. Just as you are mine, I am undeniably yours. Though I may be your protector, you are my guardian in return. My rescuer. I select you to be my love, my husband, the future father of our offspring. I pledge to cherish and stand by you for eternity, until my final breath. You are ingrained within me, Artemy Loskutov.”
His lips gently met, his azure eyes shimmering with emotion. He posed his question in a tone of tender vulnerability, “Will you accept me as your wife? May I offer you the love you truly deserve?”
“Yes,” I replied, my voice steady and certain.
My lips curled into a smile as Artemy inclined his head. “You are now my wife, Rebecca Loskutov.”
Then, he kissed me.
At first, the kiss unfolded leisurely, as if he were savoring each second. His pace, however, shifted as impatience overtook him-a characteristic so distinctly Artemy. His touch cupped my cheeks, tilting my head to the side, and his tongue sought entry into my mouth. Our lips melded, an embrace as profound as our intertwined hearts.
Tracing my neck with his fingers, his touch sent shivers across my skin. His guttural moan resonated, igniting a deep, primal sensation within me. My thighs clenched together involuntarily as Artemy persisted in his exploration. His kiss evolved, growing more assertive, more insistent, a testament of his ownership.
And I allowed him, surrendered to his every desire and need.
The connection was reciprocal. I too yearned for him, fiercely.
Artemy’s nibble on my lower lip was followed by a soothing kiss-a blend of heat and coolness, gentleness and intensity. That was the essence of his kisses.
My hands tightened their grip on his shoulders, pulling him nearer. Fingers threaded through his hair, holding on firmly. My response mirrored his passion, a meeting of fervor.
His fingertips blazed a trail down my neck, pausing at the hollow of my chest, right between my breasts.
As we pulled back, the need for air momentarily overtook us. Artemy’s lips embarked on a trail of kisses along my jawline, descending to my neck. The sensation of his teeth grazing my skin, his mouth closing over it, left a tangible imprint-a mark of possession.
Uncontainable moans tumbled from my lips as my fingers clung to his hair, inviting his affection. My head arched back, a wordless invitation for more.
Appreciative groans intermingled with the intimate symphony of our breaths, and his fingers ventured further, tracing the curves of my breast, sensually detecting my nipple beneath the fabric of my dress.
I managed a breathy whisper, “Artemy, here?”
“Here,” he affirmed, a potent undertone to his voice.
“Now?” I inquired, aching for confirmation.
“I yearn for you, Rebecca. Profoundly,” he confessed.
My breath hitched, his actions leaving me breathless. He undid the clasp of my bra with practiced ease, allowing my breasts to spring free from their confines.
“Artemy,” I whimpered, his touch electrifying.
He lowered his head, his lips hovering over my left nipple, radiating anticipation.
In that charged moment, as his tongue made contact, an uninhibited moan escaped my lips. Meanwhile, his fingers engaged with my other nipple, alternating between caresses, pinches, and pulls-a maddening concoction.
His skilled tongue continued to caress my skin with a tantalizing expertise. Every movement he made was careful and deliberate, ensuring that he stoked desire without causing any discomfort. The warmth of his touch set off a cascade of sensations between my thighs, igniting sparks of pleasure that seemed to have a life of their own.
Against his presence, I found myself trembling, a mixture of anticipation and yearning. His name, “Artemy,” escaped my lips in a breathy whisper, a plea and an acknowledgment of the intense connection we shared.
Lost in his tender yet electrifying caresses, I felt the fire he had ignited within me. A flush of warmth spread across my skin, and each touch left an indelible mark on my senses, leaving me slightly breathless and craving more.
His lips embarked on an exploratory journey across the curves of my breasts. Every kiss, every gentle suck, was a testament to his unwavering focus on my pleasure. He worshipped every inch of exposed skin, and the combined sensations elicited a gasp from deep within me.
With a deliberate motion, Artemy cupped my breasts, and the sensation sent a moan cascading from my lips. The tug of desire was so strong that I found myself urgently pulling at his hair, a silent urging for more of the exquisite pleasure he was bestowing upon me.
His voice, a husky whisper against my heated skin, added to the intensity of the moment. “I love seeing you like this, losing control,” he murmured, his words a seductive invitation that fueled the flames burning within me.
Desperation mingled with my desire as I called out to him, my voice a plea wrapped in his name, “Artemy… please…”
In a swift and assertive motion, he stood, towering above me. The fabric of my dress was swiftly discarded, leaving me exposed to his heated gaze. As his fingers played with the delicate strings of my lingerie, a mixture of nervous excitement and raw anticipation coursed through me.
“I want you bared to my eyes, every inch of you,” he declared with a primal intensity. His words painted a vivid picture of his hunger for my body, igniting a deep yearning within me. His intentions were clear, a promise of the intimate moments that lay ahead.