*smut at the later end*

xii. deditionem

[ surrender ]

Jenessa squinted over the top of her book.

Despite the pair of sunglasses she had on, the sunlight reflecting over the water made it impossibly hard to stare at the moving form of her husband.

She sighed, adjusting her grip on her book to make it seem that she was actually reading and not...admiring Victor.

No, she hadn't known that he always went for a swim in the morning everyday—it was part of his routine, even back home in London.

But it did make sense why he'd been so fit, she mused, eyeing his lean form in the water, her gaze roaming his pale skin whenever he surfaced.

God, she really shouldn't be looking, she mentally chided, forcing her eyes back to the pages of her book. But for some reason, the words swam and she simply wasn't absorbing anything.

To think that she could still be in bed now instead of being forced not to ogle her husband like some crazed idiot, she thought broodingly, lips pursed.

Honestly, Jenessa sighed, adjusting the rim of her hat before settling further into the chair. She just had to wake up early due to her insomnia. It was about five in the morning when she woke and grumbling to herself, she'd picked up where she left off in Macbeth.

An hour later, Victor had woken and stared at her as though she was mad for being awake.

"Why are you awake?" he had asked, a scowl beginning to form on his face.

"I couldn't sleep," she'd replied and arched a brow. "Why are you up?"

Victor had then informed her that he went for a swim every morning and somehow, that led to her joining him so that they could leave the hotel earlier, giving them more time to tour.

She didn't think twice on it, until they reached the pool and her husband had removed his shirt and she was pretty sure her eyes had widened before she gawked shamelessly.

Oh hell. In slow motion, her eyes had travelled the broad expanse of his chest, down his leanly sculpted torso and then back up again. He wasn't overly muscled like the actors on screen or men who went to the gym and bulked up their form on purpose.

No, not Victor. He was lean and toned from regular exercise with the single goal to be fit and healthy. Practical, to a fault, she mused.

She knew he was fit—the way the sleeves of his shirt bunched around his biceps was more than enough proof. But. She'd not expected that.

Fortunately, Victor hadn't noticed her unabashed gaping and leapt into the pool in one smooth dive.

Now, she ground her teeth, cursing herself and her damned insomnia. If she was still asleep when he woke, she would be totally oblivious to what had been in front of her the entire time.

How on earth was she going to act as if she hadn't seen...all of that?

She scowled at her book, once more thankful that her sunglasses hid her expression from everyone. With all the glaring she was doing, she might as well be the female version of her husband.

Shifting once more on the chair, she took great care in managing not to drop her purse and the small bag containing the smaller set of toiletries and a towel.

At least she should be thankful that they were this early and hardly anyone was around. Jenessa didn't think anyone would actually be around the pool at half-past seven in the morning but here they were.

She honestly didn't think she could cope if there were anyone else staring at her husband. She knew Victor was an attractive man—heck he probably knew it himself too, but damn it, he was her husband. She ought to be the only one staring.

Grumpily, she glared at her book and grimaced.

This was stupid. She was stupid.

Jenessa knew she ought not to be thinking of this. It almost sounded like she was jealous, and she was. But it was ridiculous. Victor and her had an understanding and nothing else.

Nowhere in that understanding involved any semblance of emotions with the exception of a good platonic relationship.

She bit her lip, eyes staring unseeingly at the pages of her book. No, she shouldn't be feeling maudlin. The circumstances she had was more than she'd expected in a good way.

She ought to be thankful and be content. Now, all she had to do was get her emotions under control and all would be fine.

As though on cue, a shadow fell over her and she looked up, eyes squinting from the brighter glare of the sun. 

"I'm done," Victor said, taking the towel from the foot of her chair and began to dry his face.

"Hmm," she hummed, trying to keep her eyes focused on her book instead of the droplets of water sliding down the planes of his chest.

"What's so exciting about Macbeth anyway?"

She gritted her teeth, praying to any deities around to listen to her wishes for him to go away and get dressed.

"What's wrong with it? Murder and mayhem, what else do you need in a book?" she replied lightly, chancing another glance in his direction.

Her face warmed when a small smile appeared on his face as he pushed his wet hair away from his forehead. Something like liquid heat streaked through her body and she pressed her lips together.

"Fair enough," he said and took the toiletry bag and his clothes. "I'll get washed and we can leave."

Jenessa nodded in reply as he pivoted on his heel and left, her gaze admiring his strongly muscled back and shoulders.

Yeah, she was in trouble.

Grudgingly, she returned her attention back to her book—not that it was a hard task any longer considering her only distraction was gone now.

She had managed to move towards scene two in Act III when another shadow fell over her as a clear masculine voice cleared a throat.

Owlishly, she blinked up and was met with a row of perfect white teeth. The man standing before her was no doubt a local, due to his lightly tanned complexion from the warm climate and sunny skies of the country and the accented way he greeted her.

"Buongiorno."

It took her a few seconds to remember that he was greeting her good morning and she smiled tentatively, setting her book down. "Good morning. Can I help you with something?"

"Oh," the man smiled sheepishly before gesturing to the ground. "One of your belongings is on the ground—a wallet, I think."

"Oh goodness," she murmured, reaching for said item that had somehow fallen out of her purse and was directly beneath her chair. "Thank you very much, kind sir."

The man nodded, a sincere smile on his face as he studied her. "No worries. And pardon me for my curiosity, but you're from England?" 

She beamed, adjusting the rim of her hat. "How did you guess? Was it the accent?"

"Partly, yes. But a few of my English friends have told me that no one else reads materials from Shakespeare unless needed except the English themselves."

"What?" Jenessa burst out laughing and frowned in mock disproval. "That's a lie!" 

"Is it?" the man was smiling as he gripped his satchel. "Well, you have to excuse me—"

"Pardon me."

Jenessa blinked at the cool facade on her husband's face as he regarded them blankly.

"Victor, you're back," she announced, beginning to gather her things and putting them in her purse. "I—"

"If you're done making friends with everyone you meet, are we able to leave now?" he interrupted swiftly, turning towards her, a hard edge apparent on his jaw.

Slightly appalled at his rudeness, but not entirely shocked, Jenessa forced a smile towards the local and gave him a small nod. "Thank you very much once again."

The man, sensing the burgeoning tension smiled but sent a wary expression towards her husband before continuing on his way. 

She sighed and rolled her eyes and hefted the straps of her bag over her shoulder. "Let's go."

If Jenessa thought that the surly attitude Victor had abruptly picked up would have abated after a hearty breakfast, she was wrong.

The man was relentless in his endless comments, quips and scowls. For someone who was notorious about never having to say anything unless needed, Victor Ashford was blowing that theory out of the water with an efficiency that would have surprised anyone.

"Utterly charming," he muttered under his breath as they entered a street full of people.

Jenessa ignored him and walked on, enjoying the sights and the lively atmosphere.

"I don't see why we have to go through the shortcut instead of the usual scenic route used by tourists," he grumbled. "It's too hot and crowded for this traipsing around."

Alright, she had enough.

"Okay," Jenessa narrowed her eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you so...so aggravated?"

Victor sneered. "I didn't know your vocabulary was this expanded."

Her glare deepened. "I didn't think you knew it either. Can you spell it?"

Her husband curled his lip and turned away in a manner she might have described and coined as sullen. "Clever."

"So?" she coaxed impatiently. "What's wrong?"

"Whoever said there was anything wrong?"

She pursed her lips and slid her sunglasses off the bridge of her nose, fighting the very instinct to not roll her eyes. "Victor," she pressed, raising her brows disbelievingly. "I can see through you, you're acting like a very unhappy child right now who hasn't got a toy he wanted."

Her husband glowered at her, and despite his own sunglasses shielding his eyes, she knew that he was glaring at her.

"Oh?" He tilted his head, staring her down. "I can't decide if that was simply a statement or a sly jibe."

This time, Jenessa couldn't resist the urge to roll her eyes. "It was just a statement," she said in exasperation. "Not everyone is out to get you and stop overthinking. It's tiresome."

With that, she glowered at him before stalking away, eager to spend more time touring about than engage in a pointless argument with her husband who was acting as though the very world was out to get him. However, she only managed five steps before he caught up and gave her a chiding glance that would have withered anyone's spirit.

"I wasn't finished," he gritted.

She slowed down and arched a brow. "Weren't you?"

"I wasn't."

"Well, continue where you left off, then."

Victor curled his lip, shooting her a disparaging glance before stalking off, his impressive height and broad intimidating stature cut a clear line down the busy streets.

Wryly, she noted that his mood was a clear sign for everyone to avoid him at all cost.

However, the knowledge that she has won this round made her smirk and Jenessa forced a serene smile on her face as she quickly made her way to catch up with her mercurial husband.

* * * * *

"You're pensive."

"Hmm?" She looked up at Victor's probing gaze and shrugged. "Nothing, I mean the play was interesting but..."

Thankfully, his moods had shifted by late afternoon and she could see that he was actually enjoying their stroll and the gelato she'd shared with him.

Full from their snacks, they'd skipped dinner and had watched a play. The reenactment of the classic Romeo and Juliet had captivated her. Perhaps it was the authenticity of them actually being in the country where the story was based off. Never mind the fact that it was written by an Englishman.

She'd been enthralled but despite that, the lack of passion the actors had during the play was a tad off-putting.

"And?"

"What?" She turned and blinked.

Victor sighed, an action that she was beginning to associate with him attempting to be patient, especially when it came to her.

"You said that it was interesting and then you trailed off," he prompted, tossing his wallet and phone to the small walnut desk on the side.

"Right," she acknowledge and set down her hat on the edge of the bed before fumbling with the straps of her sandals.

"I've seen Romeo and Juliet before," she began, sinking her toes into the plush carpets. "And I always thought that there must be much passion involved considering the way things turned out."

"But?"

She shrugged. "But all the plays I've seen, well...the actors had never fully portrayed that, and I thought it was just...odd."

"Mhmm."

At Victor's blasé response, she sighed. "Oh forget it, you won't know what I'm talking about."

"I beg your pardon?"

She paused, turning slowly to face Victor who was staring at her with a look on his face she couldn't quite decipher.

Suddenly aware that she was now treading in dangerous waters, Jenessa stilled and shrugged. "Nothing, it's just—"

"No, do go on," he interjected, whirling around to meet her eyes. The intensity of his gaze ought to send her back-peddling, but instead, a certain thrill shot down her spine.

"You were talking about passion and my supposed lack of knowledge on it," he goaded, taking one step towards her.

She licked her bottom lip. "It was a joke," she said weakly.

"No," he contradicted. "It wasn't."

Jenessa eyed the predatory demeanour he'd adopted but stood her ground. "It's nothing—I mean it wasn't an insult or anything but you can't blame me for thinking, or even saying that."

His eyes narrowed. "What makes you think that?"

"It was just a joke," she protested weakly as her cheeks began to flush. "I mean it's—well, it's just the way you...kissed me at our wedding. Not that I was expecting anything but I—"

She was cut off when he finally reached her, head ducking down as his lips met hers with a kiss that stole all the breath in her lungs. 

She stiffened in shock, definitely expecting him to jerk and pull away and to be all curt and aloof.

But no. Instead, a hand snaked around her waist, pulling her closer until she was pressed flushed against him, holding her tightly on the hips, while another hand cupped her cheek, tilting her head upwards, deepening the kiss.

His mouth was hot and insistent and the shock of her husband kissing her — actually kissing! — her wore off and she responded.

This kiss was worlds always from the measly peck he'd given her at their wedding.

The man kissed her like he was drowning and she, air.

She curled her hands into the lapels of his jacket, pushing herself higher on her toes to meet him. With her heart pounding away in her chest, she slid her hands up his chest to wrap them around his neck, her fingers beginning to play with the soft strands of his hair that curled at his nape.

Victor groaned, momentarily tearing his mouth away from hers as they began to descend down her throat, his hands tightening their hold on her, not giving her a chance to pull away.

She breathed out a moan when his teeth nipped a delicate spot before laving the sting away with broad strokes using the flat of his tongue.

The scent of him and the faint trace of his aftershave pervaded her senses and her eyes fluttered when his thumb brushed the underside of her breast, the digit lingering longer than possible to be considered an accident.

When did his hand move up? But Jenessa doesn't mind, as long as he did it again.

Much to her reluctance, Victor pulled away, but not before brushing his mouth sensually against hers one last time.

"We should stop," he rasped against her lips.

She didn't respond, too dazed to even come up with a coherent sentence. But she noted that he hadn't moved away. No, his hands were still holding onto her as though he didn't have any intention to let go. His eyes were dark, mouth red and swollen and his breathing unsteady.

She blinked up at him, inhaling slowly as her heart hammered away in her chest. Was she going to do this?

"Kiss me again," she murmured, voice low enough that it barely counted as a whisper.

"We shouldn't."

Was he as aware as her that right now, between them, there was something finally connecting—igniting, and that anymore actions on their part would lead to more?

She parted her lips, trying to clear the haze in her mind and looked at him. Taking in his lips, the wild look in eyes or how a lock of his hair had fallen out of place, Jenessa realised she wanted more.

She'd wanted him for so long that she might die if he didn't continue. Her blood felt like liquid heat coursing through her veins and the spot at the apex of her thighs were hot and achy and she could feel him hard and insistent on her stomach.

The knowledge that he was as affected by her as she was by him was utterly thrilling. That she had this much power over him—someone who was considered intimidating and had incredible influence over a large number of people back home was heady and it sent her reeling.

"I want you," she said, her tone as brutally honest as her need for him.

She felt him jerk, his fingers digging further into her waist.

Sensing his weakening resolve, she licked her dry lips, eyes never moving away once as her hands gripped his neck just a tad tighter.

"I want you, Victor," she repeated softly.

Blue eyes locked onto her face, scrutinising her every feature. For what, she didn't know. But Jenessa did note the off-kilter look in his eyes hadn't faded. In fact, they looked wilder than ever—more out of control than she'd thought possible.

"You're absolutely sure?" he questioned hoarsely, his Adam's apple bobbing at his throat as he swallowed. 

She nodded.

And that was all it took for her husband to react.

His mouth met hers once more, but this time it was more forceful. Never being one to back down from a challenge, which this was, she met him with ardour, her palms sliding down his chest, fingertips drifting upwards as they reached the hem of the soft cotton of his shirt and then her hands were on him.

He grunted, hands tugging at the the zip of her dress at her back, bringing it down with one swift pull.

Maybe she ought to feel a little embarrassed how her dress became a puddle of cloth at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments. After all, she had never been naked in front of anyone before.

However, for some reason, she didn't feel awkward, not when her husband pulled away, his eyes darkening at the sight of her in the barely lace pieces she called underwear.

She liked pretty things and Victor can't fault her for that.

Instead of heaping verbal praise onto her like the men did for their heroines in her historical romance novels, Victor showed his appreciation through his actions.

In a blink of an eye, he moved them and she found herself on her back on the bed. She didn't have time to contemplate what to feel when the bed dipped under his weight as he got on top of her.

Within the confines of her chest, her heart was racing and her gut was doing stunts that should be qualifiable in the Olympics. Somehow, Victor must have sensed her apprehension, for he gentled, giving her a languid kiss that sent her toes curling.

He peppered kisses down the sensitive skin of her neck and she sighed, her hands curling into his shirt—he was still wearing it?—before attempting to tug it off him as best as she could, considering her position.

"Impatient," he muttered against her collarbone before indulging her.

Finally, she was treated to the view she'd forced herself not to appreciate earlier this morning. Eagerly, Jenessa ran her eyes over his form, the heat in her lower regions igniting even further at the sight of the broad expanse of his leanly muscled torso, muscles rippling as he shifted his weight to lower his head to kiss her again.

Eyes fluttering shut, she arched her back when he pressed his mouth to her chest, while his hands simultaneously undid the hooks of her bra, freeing her breasts.

This was slow and unhurried, unlike the torrid pace that was wont to set in her novels. It was as though Victor was taking his time, and really, she was very appreciative of him trying to accommodate her as it was her first time, but God, she burned for him.

"Victor," she murmured, raking her fingers down his shoulders when he pulled at the soft lace of her knickers. "More—faster. Now."

His eyes flew to hers and his brows creased.

"Please," she implored, grounding her hips against his and shuddered at the feel of him right there, so close to where she wanted him.

Her pleading must have awakened some animalistic instinct in her husband for what happened next sped by in pleasurable touches, heated kisses, the intimate sliding of bodies slotting into place, the desperate pumping of hips and murmured groans.

Truthfully, losing her virginity didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. From the stories she'd heard, books she'd read, she thought and highly suspected that her first time would be uncomfortable and over quickly.

How wrong she was.

Perhaps it was because she had someone who was highly experienced and knew what he was doing and wasn't just solely intent on his own pleasure.

With a cry, she shattered into a million pieces, each fragment shimmering more brightly than the last—Jenessa never wanted this to end.

It didn't take long for Victor to follow after her as he thrusted one last time into her, body tensing as he growled into her ear before he dropped to her side.

She didn't know how long they lay there together, a mass of sweaty limbs and utterly satisfied. Silently, Jenessa marvelled that this could ever be like the encounter she just had.

Slowly catching her breath, she shifted on the bed, wincing at the soreness but still liking the pleasurable burn it provided. The fact that Victor's arm was wrapped around her hip did not escape her, but she was loathe to say anything—especially after the intimate act they've shared.

That being said, she was pretty sure he had dozed off, judging by how silent he was and how his chest rose steadily.

She too, was about to fall into oblivion, lulled by how sated and boneless her body felt when Victor tightened his grip on her hip.

"How's that for passion?" he quipped dryly. 

* * * * *

A/N: Hi hi! I'm a tad late with this! Sorry about that! I've been busy with life and still not okay due to this month's movie/tv releases like endgame (it was underwhelming for me lmao) and game of thrones (s8 is utter crap by the way and im so done when they killed off my favourite house). 

I hope i can make it up to you guys with this (cos there's smut, not too much!) but yes! please let me know your thoughts! thank you for being so utterly patient with me! <3

P6/5/19