A/N: Skip the next six paragraphs if you are under fifteen years of age. This is a mature novel.
Cal flipped her over so that she was on her back, leaning in to kiss her from her lips all the way down to her collarbone and her chest. He slipped off what little fabric was left on her body and placed his hand gently on her bare waist. She was warm beneath his touch. She was the epitome of perfection.
She was his great love, the force that drove him to move forward. Her body was everything he had wondered about, the curve of her waist and hips, the smoothness of her chest and stomach. Now that he had her, he never wanted to be apart from her.
He breathed in her rose scented skin as he kissed all the way down her body and back up again. She grasped at his collar, bringing him up to her lips. Her hands clutched the bottom of his shirt and undressed him, his skin was lightly tanned, glowing beneath the yellow candlelight. His shaggy golden curls were soft against her skin as he kissed her neck, her body shuddering beneath his lips. Ariella felt sparks fly up and down her spine, as though they were beckoning her to respond. She pushed him over and climbed on top of his lap, moving her hips against him as she kissed him.
"You are my demise," he breathed, placing his hands against her hips.
They moved together in the form of a beautiful melody, fitting together as if they were pieces of a puzzle. She exhaled against his lips, her breaths becoming quick and irregular. She was experiencing a feeling she had never felt before, she didn't know how she had lived so long without it. It was pure bliss, every second of it. Cal began to move faster against her, lifting her off of him and placing her beneath him, his hands grazing her body in places she'd never been touched before.
He ran his fingertips across her body, leaving trails of goosebumps along her skin as she tilted her head back in satisfaction. She was making him feel things he never thought possible, it was as if firecrackers had been mute inside of him his entire life until that very moment.
Cal felt his body succumbing to her will, his movements becoming quicker. Ariella arched her back as she reached ecstasy. Cal exhaled deeply, resting his head against her chest, "Mon amour; how will I ever leave this bed with you like this."
Ariella laughed, still trying to catch her breath, "I suppose you won't."
"You have me in the palm of your hand," he breathed, "Marry me."
She smirked, "No."
He chuckled, "Please? I beg you, have mercy."
Ariella shook her head, playing with his golden curls beneath her chin, "I don't believe your parents would appreciate me becoming Princess, seeing as they intend you for another."
"You're apart of the season, and I have the right to choose any debutante. I cannot see myself with another now that I have you here in my arms. My parents will cope with the loss of Marteier."
"You've really thought this through, haven't you," she smiled softly.
"I've been planning to ask you since the day I first saw you," he murmured.
Ariella giggled, "Is that so?"
Cal nodded against her chest. Ariella wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, "I'll marry you if we can stay in this bed forever, just like this."
"I'm afraid we leave for Palais Moreau in the morning. But believe me, if I could hold you forever in my arms, I would."
"You can," she said softly, "I'll marry you."
He lifted himself to look at her, "Truly?" he asked, a boyish smile on his lips.
"Truly," she whispered, pulling him down to press his lips against hers.
Cal lifted her up and placed her in his lap so that he was cradling her in his arms, hugging her close to his body.
She looked up to him with her almond shaped green eyes that he knew so well, "I'll be yours forever."
Cal smiled, pushing a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, "Ma princesse."
They laid back down to the bed. Cal lifted the covers up to Ariella's chin and blew out the candle. It was dark and silent for a moment, as they laid there in each other's arms.
"Will it be the same at the Palais?" Ariella asked after a while, "Will is see you every night? Will I be with you in your chambers?"
Cal rubbed her arm comfortingly, "I don't know how everything will work out when we arrive, mon amour, but I do know that I love you more than anything and that you alone are my priority."
Ariella nestled her head against his chest, wrapping her arms and legs around him, "I'll never let you go."
"I'm not complaining," Cal chuckled softly.
They awoke the next morning to the bright sun through the window. Ariella tried to fall back asleep but quickly realized the time. She shot out of bed and shoved Cal to wake up.
"We're going to miss the Royal Procession!" She said loudly, hopping out of bed.
Cal opened his eyes and smiled softly, watching her hop around the room frantically as she tried to find her belongings, "The procession left for the Palais a month ago. It's just you, me, and the guards."
Ariella looked to him and frowned, the only things covering her naked body being the pile of garments she held in her arms, "When are we to leave?"
"Why so eager to return?" Cal yawned, turning onto his stomach and closing his eyes.
"Callan Philipe Moreau! Remove yourself from the bed and dress yourself!" She shouted, and threw his shirt straight at his face.
Cal shot out of bed and grabbed her around the waist then set her back on the bed, he leaned over her so that his face was above hers, "I think I may just keep you here forever, just the way you are, unclothed and annoyed with me."
Ariella squinted her eyes judgmentally, "When are we leaving?"
Cal smirked, "Whenever we see fit."
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~Watty's 2018 Longlist~Previously featured on Wattpad Picks~ Mademoiselle Ariella du Montamorte is the most unladylike lady that ever graced the court. She is trapped in the debutante season in the hopes of finding an unwanted match, but her reckles...