((Fair warning, this is a honeymoon scene. There will be material of an adult nature.))

You couldn't have asked for a more romantic setting. It reminded Michael of some secluded tropical location back home on Earth, though he'd never been to any. He had, in fact, never done all that much traveling, except to do some book tours and attend writer conferences. He'd never been anywhere as romantic as this, and he was still in a bit of a state of shock over it all. He and Elena had only been officially engaged for three days, and already they were married. He could hardly believe his luck, and he kept having to pinch himself to make sure it was all real.

As soon as they excused themselves from Tony and Anya, Elena tugged him back to their bungalow, which was nothing short of a tropical paradise. It didn't look like much from outside, but inside it was luxurious and held all the comforts of home. Michael paused outside to take a deep breath of the fresh sea breeze and just take in the view. "God, Elena. I've never been anywhere like this before. It's breath-taking."

Like Michael, Elena was just a little in shock herself. A year ago, she'd been in hell. And now ....she was in her kind of heaven, married to a man she loved, who had loved her even when she was a complete mess, with the blessing of her family to boot. She curled her arms around her husband, resting her head on his shoulder to look out across the beautiful bay. "I thought you'd like it," she murmured softly. "I remembered what you said about going somewhere warm and quiet, far away from everyone and everything, and ....this place just seemed perfect." There was a pause as she breathed in the scent of the salt breeze tinged with the musk of spices not even she could name. "Remind me to buy something nice for the travel agent who suggested it."

"Mm," he murmured, a little dreamily though he was wide awake. "Remember to buy something nice for the travel agent," he teased, drawing his arms around her. They had nearly three hours to kill, and they were in a tropical paradise with no schedule, no obligations, no pressures, absolutely nothing to do but rest and relax and enjoy each other's company, at least until dinner time. "It is perfect," he agreed, turning his head toward hers. "Just like you."

She laughed at his tease, lifting her head to meet his gaze with the warm affection that was now his alone to enjoy. Well, it had been his alone to enjoy for several months now, but she was his wife as of twenty minutes ago. And boy, had he earned her. "Aww, baby, I'm far from perfect," she smiled, nuzzling lovingly to him. "But whenever I'm with you, I get very close to it."

Michael turned to face her, arms sliding loosely around her waist, a happy smile on his face. "You're perfect to me," he said, drawing her close to kiss her under that perfect blue sky with the warm ocean breeze touching them both like a lover's caress. There really couldn't have been a more perfect place than this or anyone he would have rather shared it with.

His kiss cut off any objection she might have raised to that beautiful compliment, though she poured as much adoration into the tender gesture as was humanly possible while somehow still remaining innocently chaste. After all, she was a bride, a wife. She should probably start behaving herself a little better in public places from now on. Her hands smoothed down his back as the flowers in her hair rustled in the breeze, content to stay right where she was for as long as he wanted her to. "I love you," she whispered against his lips, uncaring who, if anyone, saw how loving she could be with the man who had taught her not just how to be herself again, but how to open up and be herself with him.

He smiled against her lips when she offered up those three little words that he already knew. After all, she wouldn't have agreed to such a whirlwind courtship if she didn't love him, would she" "I love you," he whispered back, his voice as soft and warm as the tropical breeze. "Do you think making love on the beach is as romantic as they say?" he asked, having no idea himself, though it seemed he was about to find out.

"Mmm, I don't know," she mused teasingly, easing her hand up to smooth her fingers through his hair. "I think it's probably even more romantic when you don't have to deal with sand, curious locals, and itinerant crabs making off with your clothes." She grinned playfully, gently nipping at his lower lip. "And whaddya know" We have a bed with a perfect sea view, no sand included."

He laughed as she dispelled his illusion of romance with her practicality, flushing a little in embarrassment, but he didn't really want an audience, human or otherwise. What he had in mind was for her eyes only. "What do you say we consummate our marriage, Mrs. Donnelly' Unless you have a better idea." Once the sun went down, he might suggest a midnight swim in the moonlight, but until then, they'd have to be happy for the comfort and luxury of their bed. It wasn't such a hard compromise to make.

As enchanted as she was with romance, Elena just couldn't be held to it for very long, far too impish in nature to ever let an opportunity for a good tease pass her by. And then he had to go and say something like that, something so simple and so romantic, it sent a gentle quiver down her spine. "Say that again," she told him, her voice warm as her fingertips played up and down the back of his neck. "I feel like I've been waiting a lifetime to hear it."

He didn't think it was a very romantic question, but it was the one most pressing on his mind. Though they had plenty of time, now that she was his wife, he wanted nothing more than to make it official. He smiled, changing his words a little bit, though it meant the same thing. "I said, would you like to make love, Mrs. Donnelly?" he asked, eyes roaming over her as he felt a flush of desire. She looked lovely in that dress, but he knew she'd look even lovelier without it.

She bit her lip, her smile sweet and young and unmistakeably wanting as her own gaze roamed over him, wanting nothing more than to get him to a point where all he was wearing was his wedding ring. And her, of course. "It would be an honor and a privilege, Mr Donnelly," she answered his question in her own mischievous way, though there was a suggestion that she meant what she said beneath the tease in her voice. "Should I climb on board, or are you saving the carrying over the threshold for our actual home?"

Michael chuckled at her reply. "I'm not so sure about that, but I'll take your word for it." He glanced curiously over at the bungalow, gauging the distance. "Do you want me to?" he asked, never having carried her anywhere before and not having thought of it. He frowned a little as he realized it was something he should have thought of on his own, hoping he hadn't disappointed her.

"Yeah, you do," she smiled, leaning up to kiss his frown. "And they're gorgeous, just like you." And she meant it, too. She'd never really understood why freckles were considered to be unattractive - Elena thought Michael's little smattering of freckles were beautiful. "What, you don't like your sun kisses?"

"I don't get sun kisses. I get sunburn," he corrected her, slanting a glance up at the sun. If he stayed out too long without sunscreen, he'd burn like a crisp and spend the rest of their honeymoon in pain, but he wasn't ready yet. He wanted to have some fun first. It had been a long time since he'd had any fun. "We should go snorkeling or sailing or something while we're here," he suggested. But not now. Later.

"Whatever you want, baby," she promised him, taking advantage of his uplifted chin to nibble teasingly at his throat. A slightly wicked glimmer touched her smile as she drew back. "Race you to the bungalow?" But she didn't wait for an answer, diving away to swim toward their private residence set above the water. It might have seemed from a distance that the only way to reach it was via the walkway from the beach, but as they drew closer, steps winding down from the private deck made themselves known. And that was where Elena was heading, all splashing and flailing arms and legs.

He groaned as she nibbled at his throat, turning his head toward her just as she was diving away from him. "Elena!" he called, diving in after her. He wasn't the best swimmer, but he could swim well enough to stay afloat and have fun. Arms and legs cut through the water as he followed her toward their honeymoon retreat, realizing as he got closer that they didn't have to return to the beach to get there.

She caught hold of the steps beneath the water, twisting to face him with a wide, exhilarated grin as he chased after her, breathless with the exertion, and with the anticipation of what she was pretty sure was coming up next. Elena hadn't felt so happy, so content with herself, since she was a child, and it was all because of the man who was now her husband. Without him, none of her decisions over the past year would have been the right ones; she wouldn't have got her happy ending. But there he was, and she was right there with him, sweetly delighted with everything between them, even the arguments that were growing fewer and further between. "Think you can handle a few steps, hubby-dubby-doo-dah?"

He laughed, despite her teasing and his slightly-bruised ego. He hadn't been very physically active in a while and thought it was high time he got himself back into shape. "I think I can handle it, Miss Smartypants," he replied, as he grabbed hold of the rail and hauled himself up the stairs, his legs feeling a lot heavier than they really were. "I need to start working out." He certainly didn't look like he was in bad shape, but he was feeling it.

"What, we don't do enough of it?" his wife asked him teasingly, waiting until he was on the steps before following him and, yes, taking full advantage of her position to bite his rear end through his sodden underpants playfully. "We could always round up until you get fit. Or you could start running with me,"

He yelped as she nibbled the tender flesh at his rear, and nearly lost his footing and went back into the water. He turned to face her as he reached the top and hauled himself up onto the deck, glaring at her for biting him. "Now you're gonna get it," he warned, though there was no anger in his voice, taking a step closer.

Dripping water, she climbed up the steps under his glare, her smile angelic as she held his gaze. "Do you want me to bend over, Mr Donnelly?" she asked innocently, deliberately playing the sweet little virgin card for all she was worth.

He was so tempted to shove her back into the water and go in with her, but there was something else that was tempting him more and that was the skimpy little bikini of hers that barely covered the lovely curves he couldn't wait to get his hands on. "Bend over and I might spank you, Mrs. Donnelly," he replied, putting an emphasis on the Mrs.

Hands behind her back, she gazed up at him from beneath her lashes, the flush on her skin rising with desire as she reacted as much to the way he addressed her as the sound of his voice, the way he was looking at her. "Is that what you want, Mr Donnelly?"

"Not really," he replied simply, reaching out to pull her against him as his lips devoured hers. There was no denying that he wanted her, just as he always wanted her, but this time he would have her as his wife. "I love you, Elena," he murmured against her lips, as hands reached around to grab hold of her *ss and pull her hips snugly against his. There was no mistaking his desire and no way for him to hide it.

And no way his wife would ever want him to try and hide that desire from her. As he pulled her into his arms, she purred against his lips, squeaking softly at the possessive grab of his hands on her *ss with a gentle giggle. "I love you back," she promised him, each word a low moan to vibrate against his lips as her own arms wrapped tight around him. "Inside ....before naked."

It was probably a good thing she reminded him, as he was on the verge of losing control, though it was hard to forget where they were surrounded by water as they were. He smiled at her reminder and grabbed hold of her hand to tug her safely inside away from prying eyes, though he had yet to see anyone else on the beach. Once inside, he wasted no time, giving her exactly what she'd asked for in not so many words. Romantic and tender and loving it wasn't, not that first time. It was wild and frenzied and lacking restraint, as if something snapped in him and gave him permission to finally let go.

There would be time for romantic and tender and loving later. They had years to perfect it together, a lifetime to look forward to, together. For now, wild and frenzied definitely fit the bill, and for once, Elena didn't even try to moderate herself, rising to the challenge as loudly and enthusiastically as she wanted. They might have been audible from the beach, but with no one else around to hear, they were in their own little world, filled with desire and demand and a fierceness she had never encountered with anyone before. Apparently when Michael let loose, he really let loose.

By the time they were through, the bungalow had been christened several times in several places, and their clothing - what little of it there was - was strewn haphazardly around the place. Somehow they managed to make to the bed finally and were sprawled across it in a splay of arms and legs, one atop the other, both of them panting for breath. It was the first time in his life he'd ever completely let go of his inhibitions, and the first time he'd ever really believed and trusted in someone the way he trusted in her.

"You're not a leech," he argued, with a frown. Now that she'd mentioned it, it was going to be hard to get back in the mood. Well, not hard, but she had definitely thrown him off track. "I make more than enough money to support both of us. There's nothing wrong with taking some time off from a career to figure out what you want to do." Hell, it had taken him four years to get himself back on track. Who was he to judge anyone"

She sighed, rolling onto her back beside him, guilt flaring for ruining the moment. "I'm such an *ss," she muttered to herself, brushing her hair back off her face. "I should have just kept my mouth shut. I'm really sorry, I'm ruining the day." I'm ruining my wedding day because I'm a neurotic idiot. "Let's just forget I said anything. I'll keep my mouth shut from now on."

He chuckled a little at her now. Sure, it was their wedding day and it was supposed to be romantic and all, but he had no complaints. "You worry too much, Elena. Do you really think I won't be able to get another hard on because you're worried about your career?"

It should have been entirely the wrong thing to say, but from Michael, it earned itself a loud laugh in protest. Elena reached beneath her own head to grab a pillow and hit him with it. "Hey! We're married now, I'm allowed to get worried that you're not gonna be able to raise the flag pole for your unemployed slob of a wife!"

He laughed as she whacked him with the pillow, raising his arms to block the blow. "Have I ever had trouble raising the flag pole before?" he pointed out, rolling over on top of her and making a grab for the pillow to toss it aside and pin her to the bed.

She giggled as he pinned her down, putting up a spirited fight to keep hold of the pillow before giving in as she beamed up at him. "You've never been able to keep up with me for a whole night before," she pointed out cheekily, knowing that she was laying down a challenge they didn't have time to attempt unless they blew off dinner with Tony and Anya. "Wanna take a nap and try it out later?"

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, brow arching as he looked down at her, hands pinned over her head. "Do I look like I wanna take a nap?" he continued, just as cheekily back. Though she might not be able to see if he'd raised the flag pole, in this position, she could most definitely feel it.

So much for killing the mood. Even as she laughed with him, Elena arched her back, everything about her inviting her husband to make the most of having the next hour and a half to themselves as she raised her head to catch his lips with hers. "Maybe if you nap standing up, I can hang my bikini to dry on your flag pole," she teased him through her grin, her arms flexing as she tested his grip pinning her down.

"Maybe if you shut up, I'll screw your brains out again before we meet your brother for dinner," he countered, smirking down at her. There was nothing wrong with his grip on her wrists. He'd had more than enough time to regain his strength after going cold turkey off the bottle. It had been months since then, and though it was still a temptation from time to time, he was not the same Michael he was when he'd first arrived in Rhy'Din, and it showed. His smile widened as he ground his pelvis against hers, teasing. "Of course, if you'd rather nap or talk about your career, I understand."

"Oh God ..." He certainly knew how to push his wife's buttons, earning himself a tender moan that vibrated from her to him as she writhed beneath him, hooking her legs about his hips to grind back with a breathless smile. "Shut me up," she told him rather vehemently. "Seriously. Now."

He was all too happy to fulfill her request, smiling a little smugly down at her before leaning in to plunder her lips, kissing her deeply and thoroughly. And while his mouth was busy shutting her up, he took advantage of her prone position to assert himself between them, sheathing himself inside her with a muffled moan of ecstasy against her lips. He loosened his grip on her wrists so that he could link his fingers with hers as he rocked against her, driving them both into another state of frenzied delight once again.

Being a married man certainly did seem to be agreeing with Michael. Elena had never seen him more passionate, more open to just being with her, however the mood took him. And she certainly responded to this new-found boldness with as much enthusiasm as he could ever have asked for. Holding on tight as his fingers tangled with hers, she rose with him, unashamedly filling the air with her own passion as he drove her higher and higher, her worries forgotten in the moment of release as she cried out his name, as much love in her tone as eager satisfaction.

He knew she couldn't just live on love. She'd need to sort out what she wanted to do with her life at some point, but not today. Today was their wedding day. Today was for them. Everything else would work itself out in time. For now, he didn't want to worry or think about anything but them. He rose with her, his kisses more passionate than ever before, giving as much as he was taking, reveling in the knowledge that he had pleasured and satisfied her more than once, each time more passionate than the last. He knew he wasn't a great lover, but what he lacked in experience and skill, he more than made up for with eagerness.

That was one arena where they were going to have to disagree. Elena was absolutely certain Michael was the best lover she had ever had - and given her track record, that was saying a lot. Of course, she'd never actually said it to him, but seriously ....did he really need her to' Aside from one unfortunate sprint to the finish line when he'd been going through withdrawal, he had never left her behind, no matter where or when or how limited their time was. And she had a feeling it was as much because they were in love as it was about technique and enthusiasm. As they lay there, panting once again, she beamed, curling into his arms to press a tender kiss to his lips. "We should get up early tomorrow," she suggested impishly. "It's gonna take more than one go to get you covered in sunscreen and suitable for the outdoors."

And there it was again - that feeling of utter and complete contentment, more content than he'd ever felt before, and yet at the same time, invigorated, like he could conquer the world. It wasn't just a physical feeling as it was an emotional one. He had simply never felt happier in his entire life than he did at this moment. He returned her kiss before resting his head beside hers, his breath warm against her neck, closing his eyes contentedly. He knew he couldn't fall asleep like that or he might crush her, but he was too content to move. "I'm not letting the little guy get sunburned, you know," he remarked, referring to that part of his anatomy that was least likely to see any sunlight.