By nature, I'm not a shy person. A little rough around the edges, maybe. But shyness was never something that I'd ever been afflicted with.

And yet, when Tristan got into the shower with me, shy was mostly what I felt. I had an intense need to cover up. So my back was to him, and my arms wrapped around his chest. It didn't do much good, and still left the majority of my body uncovered.

I felt him place his hands on my shoulders and slowly slide them down my arms.

"Rox," he whispered.

"Hm?"

"I don't have to be here if you don't want me to be. You can kick me out. Really, I don't mind."

I turned my head and looked up at him, "What makes you think I don't want you here?"

"Uh, we've been in here for like seven minutes, and you've been standing in the same spot for all of them."

"It's not that I don't want you here…" I said, "It's just…weird, I guess. I've been with a couple guys, but I've never- we never- there was never any…" I sighed, "it was just different,"

"I imagine so. None of them were me." He paused, "And just how many guys have you been with?"

"How many girls have you been with?" I asked.

He paused, "Eight."

"Eight? You've been with eight girls?"

"Hey, I'm royalty. It's expected."

"Ugh,"

"How many guys, Roxy?"

"Three. That's a far cry from eight. And it's so wrong that you slept around because you thought it was expected."

"So I'm not a saint. But honey, you don't have any room to judge."

"I totally do. You're the whore in this relationship."

"…did you seriously just call me a whore?"

I bit my lip, "Yes,"

I relaxed when I heard him let out a low chuckle. His hands slid down to my hips, "I do seem to remember you doing some very whore-like things," he whispered.

"Please, Tristan, the things you did, I know you didn't learn by yourself."

A low half-chuckle-half-growl sound came from him. I felt the rumble against my back, "And I suspect you didn't learn what you can do by yourself, either."

"Maybe. Maybe not." I turned and wrapped my arms around his neck. I stood on my tip toes and kissed him for a second, then pulled back, "But let's not forget which one of us is the whore here."

He grinned at me, "I never said I wasn't."

He responded to the roll of my eyes by running his hands down farther, grabbing me by my thighs, and pulling me – none too gently, either – off of my feet.

"Tris!" I gasped, feeling my back press against the cool tile wall. Automatically, my legs wrapped around his waist; I grasped his shoulders.

He smirked and began kissing and sucking my neckline, nipping the skin every few seconds. I was fairly certain that I was going to end up with hickeys all over my body. And that they would continue to show up as long as the two of us were sexually active. Because, I noticed, he liked to bite. It was a little creepy, but overall, it was pretty much a huge turn on.

"Tristan…" it was killing me how slow he was going.

"Hush, I'm working,"

I giggled, "You're working too slow. Get with the good stuff already,"

"Babe," he pulled back, "Don't rush greatness, okay?"

"Well when I find it, I won't." I giggled.

He mock scowled at me; his scowl quickly turned into a pout.

"Aww, baby," I whispered, kissing him, "sorry,"

He didn't reply, just caught my lips with his. Up to this point, our kisses had mostly been of the sweet, romantic variety. This time, they were quick and frenzied.

He managed to pry his hand between his waist and my center. Just as his mouth latched onto my breast, his finger entered me, followed by a second, and then a third in quick succession.

My head went back as far as it could; my back arched, my fingers were buried in the mess of red hair; my eyes were shut.

"Oh god…" I moaned, "Tris…"

He continued with his ministrations until I was almost screaming his name.

I was so close. So very, very close.

My eyes snapped open when he pulled his fingers out, "What…the…hell?" I asked between pants. I squirmed. Or tried to, at least. My attempts were useless, as I was firmly pinned between a strong man and a wall.

He chuckled and kissed my neck, "This is your punishment,"

"F-for what?" I asked. I was very uncomfortable. I could hardly concentrate on what he was saying. All I knew is that I needed release. Badly.

"Calling me a whore," he whispered, "rushing me…"

"…Tristan…"

He shook his head, grinning, "Sorry." He stepped back and moved his hands from my thighs.

I had no choice but to unwrap my thighs and hold myself up. My legs were trembling, and I hadn't even, you know, crossed the finish line yet.

He slid the door to the shower open and prepared to step out.

"Don't you dare get out of this shower before finishing what you started,"

He leaned close to me and kissed me softly, "Don't finish without me, 'kay?" he asked, then got out of the shower and shut the glass doors. Through the fog, I could make out him wrapping a towel around his waist and walking out of the bathroom.

And that intense pressure I felt, like there was a small child sitting on my bladder, wasn't getting any better.

I leaned my head back against the wall and let out a groan of frustration.

It grossed me out to no end to touch myself. So I turned off the water and got out of the shower. I grabbed a towel off of the shelf and wrapped it around myself, then began drying my hair.

On top of the fact that my hair looked horrible if it dried naturally, it also gave me something to focus on. Something other than the way Tristan had left me. It didn't do much good.

Especially not when he walked back into the bathroom, still clad in just his towel, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

I turned the blow dryer on high heat and turned it so it blew directly on his face.

He jumped back, "Hey now,"

"Don't you 'hey now' me, Tristan." I glared at him – or rather, his reflection in the mirror – and continued with my hair.

"Oh come one," he sighed, putting an extra emphasis on the word 'come'.

I rolled my eyes at him, flipped off the blow dryer and sat it on the counter. I walked over to him and put my hands on his chest and pushed him out of the bathroom, "You can come in here again if you're going to push me against something and just take me. If not, keep your sweet embraces and little kisses away from me."

"Seriously?" he asked.

"Yeah. Seriously. Generally women don't like it when someone brings then within like have an inch of what could be the best orgasm ever, and then leaves. We tend to get pissed off. So unless you're going to finish what you started…" my voice trailed off.

"Best orgasm ever, huh?" he grinned.

"I said what could have been the best orgasm ever. Though I think that it'll be mediocre at best. You know. If you ever get around to finishing it."

"Roxanne, please. Nothing I've ever done has ever been mediocre. Especially not in that department."

"Oh yeah? Then prove it."

When he didn't immediately reply, I turned back to the counter and began blow drying my hair again.

I wasn't at all surprised when he walked back into the bathroom and stood behind me. Or when he took the blow dryer out of my hand, turned it off, and placed it back where it belonged; I wasn't surprised when he reached around me and pulled my towel off.

I turned around and faced him. He lifted me up onto the counter.

"Tris?" I asked.

"Hm?"

"I won't rush you this time," I whispered, untucking his towel and letting it drop to the floor.

"I've been mean enough already. You ready?"

"God yes,"

--

"Holy mother of Zeus," I panted.

He grinned at me, his own breath intake matching mine, "That good?"

"Better," I leaned back against the mirror, my legs still around his waist. "How can you not be…I mean…how are you still…" I had no idea how to phrase my question, so I let my voice trail off."

He shrugged, "Because there's a beautiful naked woman in front of me."

"Right," I grinned, "I'm hungry. So Junior is going to have to wait 'til I've gathered more energy."

"'Junior'? Really?"

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever. Just…make yourself useful and get us food."

"I was making myself useful like two minutes ago!"

"Please, Tris?" I practically whined.

"Only because it's sexy to hear you beg."

He moved away from me, pulling himself out of me completely, and walked out of the bathroom.

You gotta love a guy who's confident enough to walk around in the nude.

I got off the counter and followed in into the bedroom. I went to the dresser and pulled out some panties and pulled them on, then put on a shirt of his.

He pulled on boxers, then sat on the bed and picked up the phone. I climbed onto the bed behind him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

I was getting pretty into the whole wife thing. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but I liked having someone I could count on. And Tristan was about as good as they got. Great in bed, sexy as hell, attentive, and oh so caring. And a killer body to boot.

He spoke into the phone, ordering everything from pizza to burgers and fries, and drinks. He leaned over and put the phone back on the receiver, then sat up straight again.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"What? I can't just…admire your muscles?" I rubbed his arms and shoulders.

"Of course you can," he smiled, "Usually people admire from afar,"

I laughed, "Admiring by touch is so much more fun,"

"I agree."

I sat back against the headboard. He scooted up between my legs and leaned against me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him.

"Hey Rox?"

"Yeah?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair.

"I think we'll be happy,"

"What?"

"You asked me if I thought we'd be happy. I kind of didn't answer."

"Oh. Well. Okay."

"That's it?"

"Kind of, yeah. Why? Were you expecting like, this big emotional cry-fest because you said you thought we'd be happy?"

He shook his head, "Not really," and shrugged.

I kissed his forehead, "Good."

He smiled and relaxed against me even more, closing his eyes, "You're different," he whispered.

I giggled, "You've said that…many times,"

"No. I mean. You're different than the other girls I've been with."

"Yeah?"

He nodded, but didn't elaborate.

And I was perfectly happy to just sit there with him in the silence.

Or, at least until his phone rang.

"You gonna get that?" I asked, after a few rings.

He sighed, "Yeah."

I moved my arms and my legs and let him get up. He walked across the room to where his pants were laying and fished his phone out of his pocket.

"Hello?"

I watched as his face fell and turned serious. He opened the door to the balcony, stepped outside, and shut the door behind him.

That made me frown. A lot.

However, I the frown was replaced by a smile when there was a knock on the door and food had finally been delivered.

I didn't know whether to interrupt his phone call, wait for him, or start eating by myself. So I sat at the table, slowly eating some of my French fries, staring at the doors that lead to the balcony, mentally willing him to come back inside.

When he was still outside ten minutes later, I stood up and went over to the doors. My hand rested on the handle, but stopped when I heard him talking.

"No, she doesn't know," there was a pause, "Obviously I'm not," another pause, "I'm not telling her that!" pause, "Because, mother, Roxanne doesn't need to know."

I blinked and opened the door and poked my head out, "Sorry. I'm going down to the beach," I said, then shut the door.

I half expected him to come inside, but he didn't.

I changed into a bikini, then put on shorts and the shirt I'd been wearing back on, put on my shoes and left.

Unlike last night, there were quite a few people on the beach. People playing volleyball, kids building sandcastles.

I found a spot just passed a large group of people probably around my age, and sat down. I took off my shoes and burrowed my feet into the sand; I pulled my knees to my chest.

"Hey," a girl said, coming over to me.

I looked up at her. I knew her. We'd been friends when I was in school, "Hi," I replied.

"Wow…it's been so long since I've seen you, Roxy," she smiled.

"Yeah…time flies, eh?"

She nodded and looked back at the rest of her group, "Hey guys! C'mere!" she waved them all over.

When I was in school, I was a social butterfly. I had a lot of friends. Which was weird, considering how not open I was with any of them. But still, they were fun to be around.

When I dropped out, we didn't hang out much, until we just never saw each other at all.

The group of people walked over.

They said their greetings, and how great it was to see me again. And thanks to Tristan, I was nicer than I normally would have been.

Great sex can do that to a person.

Speaking of Tristan, I saw him walking up the beach towards us, clad in swim shorts. He didn't say anything to the group, just sat behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Uh," I said, "Um. Marie…everyone, this is Tr-"

Marie spoke up, "Yeah, we know who he is! Who doesn't?! Oh my god, this is so cool!"

I felt Tristan smile against my back. He lifted one hand and waved to everyone, "Hi,"

"Yeah. Anyway. Tris, this is Marie, Jacob…" I told him the names of everyone sitting around us.

"Nice to meet you guys." He smiled, "I wasn't aware that you had so many friends," he kissed my neck, "You could have invited them to the wedding,"

"Wedding?" Marie asked.

"Oh, yeah. We, um, got married," I said. I would have held up my hand, but I didn't have my rings on.

"Oh my god! Wow! Congrats!"

"Thanks," I could practically hear Tristan smirking.

We sat and talked with everyone for a few hours. I swear Tristan was trying to make me as uncomfortable, and as turned on, as possible. He would whisper things in my ear, kiss my neck, rub my back…a few times he even slipped his hand up my shirt and fondled me. He would flick his tongue out against the back of my earlobe.

With each touch, I shuddered and fought to keep in a moan. He made it hard to concentrate on anything except the effect he was having on me.

Finally, when everyone else left for the day, he pulled me close to him and kissed me hard on the mouth. And embrace which I was all too eager to return.

Though it didn't last nearly as long as I wanted. He pulled away abruptly. Before I had a chance to think, or even blink, he was standing up and pulling me along with him. I barely had a chance to scramble to my feet before he practically dragged me down the beach a little ways, and behind some large rocks.

"Wha-" his lips crashed into mine again, before letting me finish my word. I was then pushed up against the boulder, pinned between it and Tristan. Like in the shower. Though this time it was a bit more loose.

He ran his hands along my legs, then over my butt. He gripped the bottom of my shirt and roughly pulled it up over my head.

"Tristan…" I whispered, out of breath.

But he didn't respond – I hadn't really expected him to – except to untie the bikini at both my neck and my back, then let it fall to the ground. He lowered his head and ran his tongue over my nipples; he took one between his teeth, and rolled the other one between his fingers.

"Oh...god…" I gasped.

The things he could do with his mouth would make any girl's knees week, just by the mere thought of it. It was ten times more effective when he was actually doing it.

He hooked his forefingers under the rim of my shorts and bikini bottoms and slowly started to push them down.

"Tristan…" It came out as a breathy moan.

He didn't lift his mouth, or even stop what he was doing at all. He just looked up at me. With those big brown eyes that I can't refuse.

I didn't say anything. He closed his eyes again and continued everything he was doing. His free hand slipped between my legs, pushing them apart. Slowly, he began rubbing me. It was torture. Pure sexy, wonderful, agonizing torture.

He switched from one breast to the other, and from one hand to the other.

Then he pulled away and kissed me. It didn't last long, as we were both out of breath.

"…Tris…we shouldn't…not here…"

A split second later, I felt his bare legs against mine, with no fabric between us.

"I want you," he growled, claiming my lips again, "Right now," he sounded downright possessive.

A mix between a moan and a gasp escaped my lips when both hands grabbed my thighs and lifted me up off of my feet. My feet slipped out of my shorts, making it easier for me to spread my legs and wrap them around him.

I shuddered when he entered me. He didn't move for a few minutes, then started thrusting into me.

"Tristan! Oh…god…Tris…" those were the only words in my mind, the only ones I was currently capable of speaking.

"Fuck, baby," he moaned, "You're so tight," his thrusts got harder with each word, and harder still when the words stopped.

"Harder," I gasped. The rock was digging into my back, quite painfully, actually, but instead of hurting, it just added to the pleasure that I felt.

Obeying, he continually went harder and harder.

"Tris…I'm gonna…"

"Wait for me, baby," he breathed.

"I c-can't,"

"Yes," he growled, "Don't come yet,"

I pressed my eyes closed, trying with all my might not to come just yet, but I was right there. It was right there.

But something about him made me want to follow his demands, so I didn't, even though I desperately wanted to.

"Open your eyes," he commanded. "Watch me while you come,"

"Uh… I can't…I have to…"

"Now, baby,"

I tensed as my orgasm ripped through me. I felt myself tightening around him. I also felt him coming inside of me.

He only gave me a few minutes to recover before thrusting into me again. This time, though, it was nearly as rough, less demanding. But it wasn't any less satisfying.

"Oh my god," I moaned.

He grinned at me, "And to think, you were going to stop that,"

"Hush," I whispered, still trying to catch my breath, "I can't believe we just did that,"

"We did," he kept grinning, "twice."

I laughed, "Yeah. Uh…now let me go. Back. Pain."

"Sorry," he kissed me again, then let me go.

I pulled on my clothes again; he did the same.

"Let's go out to dinner," he said, putting his arm around my shoulders.

I nodded, "Okay."

"I think there's a sea food place around here. Wanna go there?"

"Sounds good. I want to shower, though."

He grinned at me, "Okay," he kissed my cheek.

"Alone," I added.

"Aww, baby. That's no fun."

"Deal with it." I smiled.

He stuck his tongue out at me and laughed.

After I showered, he got into the shower while I was doing my hair.

It seemed completely normal to do this. Be like this.

He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, then stepped out. He leaned against the wall and watched me apply my makeup.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. You, uh, have scratches on your back,"

I blushed slightly, "From the boulder."

"Oh." He frowned, "Sorry."

I shrugged, "Totally worth it,"

He came over to me and moved the hair off of my neck and kissed my skin softly, "I agree. But I'm not the one hurt. We didn't have to do it,"

I turned around to face him, "It was…amazing. And the scratches don't even hurt. I'd totally do it again." I kissed him softly, "Now go get dressed."

"Yes ma'am!" he saluted and marched off into the bedroom.

I laughed, "Dork!" I yelled.

I heard him laughing from the other room. I turned back and finished my makeup, then he returned, holding a purple dress up.

"That's what you're wearing? Cute,"

He rolled his eye, "Not me, you weirdo. You."

"Uh, no. I'm wearing jeans."

"Please, baby? For me?" he pouted.

I sighed, "Fine." I took the dress and slipped past him into the bedroom.

He grinned at me, then got dressed.

"So. What's the deal with all of this lacy stuff?" I asked, putting on a matching pair of bra and panties.

He raised an eyebrow, "Don't girls generally like that stuff?"

I shrugged, "Well, yeah. Makes us feel pretty. But generally we like to pick it out ourselves."

"Well then you can go shopping and pick out whatever you want. Those were just the things that Kyle sent over."

I nodded, "It's fine. I was just wondering."

I walked back over to the bed and picked it up the dress.

He put his hands on my hips and pulled me close to him.

"I thought we were going out to dinner," I said.

"We are," he kissed my stomach, "I just can't stop touching you,"

I giggled and pushed away from him, then pulled on my dress, "You can touch me later. I'm hungry right now though."

He sighed, "Fine."

He put on his shirt as I found some shoes to wear, then we left.

I stayed close to him as photographers and journalists followed us, snapping pictures and asking questions.

All Tristan told them was that we were very happy, and no, I wasn't pregnant.

We got into the restaurant, and I felt like everyone was watching us. Which they probably were, considering that he was the king, and I was his new bride, and as far as the rest of the world knew, I never existed.

We were lead to a small, pretty secluded table in the back. He pulled out my chair for me, then pushed it in when I sat down. He walked to the other side of the table and sat.

"You're uncomfortable, aren't you?" he asked.

"Am I that transparent?" I asked.

"It's written all over your face,"

"Oh,"

"We can go…"

"No. It's fine. Besides, it smells really good. And I have to get used to people staring at me."

"It's not always this bad. Although, you're probably public enemy number one to every teenage girl in the country."

I grinned, "They can just get over it. You're all mine,"

He grinned back at me, "Good to know,"

"Very good,"

I sat back in my chair and looked around, "Uh, Tris? Why is that girl glaring at you?"