"I forgot that you almost open doors to amazing places."

How long had he wished for her presence to reverberate in the hollows of this room?

He could hear the excitement in her voice, reminiscent of the child who shifted the axis of his world (and who he had left and finally regained). It washed his soul with warmth, indescribably refreshing warmth that climbed up his spine. The years he spent in nothingness didn't assuage he burn his bride triggered; his longing was coal to the fire in his loins. His heart beat frantically against his chest, reflecting the desperation he nursed from the moment he saw her again.  His breath caught on his throat, and the urge to grab her overcame his senses.

Her breath hitched as he took her lips to hers, its curve a reply to his call. She lost her hold on her bag, which cluttered to the ground as he held her against him.

The body he was holding is of a woman, unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. Even through her coat, he could feel the subtle curves that carved her adolescent body in his absence. Her hair, albeit shorter, was silk against the roughness of his calloused hand. Angling his face, his nose recognized the smell of perfume similar to the one she received from him way back. She gasped as he on her open mouth, and another tingle ran down his spine as she attempted to reign him in. Her velvet tongue lightly brushed the inside of his upper lip, catching him off guard.

Slowly, he pulled away to watch her reaction, satisfied by the mix of serenity and awe in her features.

She opened her eyes, and the glint in her eyes was a promise -- the end of the coldest of his nights.

His arms readily supported her body as she straddled him, anchoring her hands on his neck as she kissed his lips. She mimicked his previous actions, her movements decisive and burning against his skin. She breathed fire into his immortal soul, and he melted in her command.

The back of his legs hit the edge of the couch, his knees folding to settle them both. She crouched above him, ministrations redirecting to his jaw as she tried to push his coat off. His nose traced a line on his cheek, coaxing her to release his hold. As she leaned back, he kept a hand on the small of her back, planting his own kisses on her cheek, her nose, medial aspect of her eye, her forehead. Her answering smile made him want to mark her all over.

Sensing his growing desire, Eun Tak slipped her coat. He followed her movements, throwing his on the floor beside hers. They slipped of their shoes hastily, latching on the other desperately. He cradled her so she could lie down, his body hovering hers. Her fingers did quick work, its cold tips sliding beneath his turtleneck sweater and easing it off him. He shuddered as cool air kissed his skin.

He didn't miss the way his bride's eye dilated.

He pounced on her, making quick work of her top as he hastily took them off. The sight of her dark brassiere had him resting his forehead against her chest, a new territory to conquer. His tongue began drawing languid on her shoulder, exploring every inch down her chest, driven by the sounds his bride was emitting. Shallow breaths brushed against his cheek, and he groaned with his impending loss of control.

"Kim Shin-ah," she called, gripping his hair back. "I want to see you," she requested, raising from her position. Lips peppered the expanse of his chest, and in his distraction Eun Tak was able to gain momentum.

She clumsily unbuckled his belt, but was good at distracting him. His hands grabbed on the sides of the couch as she ed and slid his bottoms. Another groan escaped his lips as her small hands touched his , pre- shamelessly dribbling.

"Ji Eun Tak," he croaked, risking a glance at her.

She gazed at him.

"I am going to make love with you. I will come inside of you. I will do it now, if you want to."

His words snapped her from her reverie.

She stepped off the couch, ping and removing her jeans. His eyes wandered on her womanly form, taking the contrast of her pale skin with her lingerie. He bit his lip  as she expertly removed them, the brassiere dropping to the coffee table followed by her boy-short bottoms. She stood before him, as the day she was born.

He lunged at her, taking her body by the waist as she s her legs and arms on him. He ran to his room, and they sank on the bed as if they own gravity and the moment revolved on them. With her arms spread wide, he entered her lips in one , eliciting a cry of pain from her. He nearly pulled back but she whispered yeses on his lips, commanding him to move.

And so he moved against her, like a general riding his stallion for the longest ride of his journey. Her l muscles gripped tight, just as her nails dug crescents on his sun-kissed back, adding her own marks against centuries of battle scars. Her body made waves in response, her back arching and her chest flushed and reaching for his own. His lips acquainted with her s, and he on her like a starving babe.

And he had been starved of this intimacy all his life.

He came inside her, burying seeds on her greenery. He came, shouting her name in adulation.

She came just after him, wave after wave propelling against , washing him in the aftermath of their shared desire.

He collapsed against her, his head burrowing on her chest. He moved his body partly, settling on her side like a comfortable weight of warmth on a winter night.

How fitting, he thought.

"I love you, so much."

The quickening of her heartbeat would have sufficed as an answer, but his bride echoed his words anyway.