She placed her hand on his waist, which Cash treated as a nonverbal invitation for more. His next kiss was deeper, more intimate — he let go of her face and let his fingers trail down the back of her dress. He was aware that he was thinking of this clinically, and that he couldn't do that forever if he was going to perform — but for this part it was fine.

"Can I kiss your neck?" he asked after another beat of kissing, his tone gentle.

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MJ made this!

His touch, though gentle, was something new; and when faced with new things, Adrienne tended to adopt a demeanor of cautious indifference. The eve of her wedding was hardly an event that called for her usual reaction though. She knew that much. As he pressed another kiss to her lips, she leaned forward in return, her hand tightening around his waist while her other hand slipped up to cup his cheek.

At his second request of the night, she pulled back to survey him. While she hadn’t expected a forceful wedding night by any means, the fact that he’d requested her permission twice caused her thoughts to swirl around even more; but this was hardly something she could take the time to analyze now. So she nodded, feeling a blush spread across her cheeks. His movements felt cautious but warm; respectful at the very least. He wasn’t directly taking what she knew hew as entitled to. “You needn’t ask permission, you know.” She found herself murmuring. “I - I know what needs to happen tonight.”

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Cash would have shrugged at her, but it felt inappropriate to the moment. He lowered his lips to her neck. "It feels odd," he said, "Not asking permission." He didn't want to move too fast, but he didn't want to move too slow, either. He doubted that she would tell anyone, except maybe her twin, but it would set a precedent. "And I — don't know how to undress you."

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MJ made this!

Another surprise of the evening. She’d thought that he’d have had plenty of practice undressing women; wasn’t that what sons of powerful families often did? The frame of reference she had was slim at best, so she let it be. She blinked rapidly at the sensation of his lips pressed to her neck, struggling with the dual task of identifying the rising sensation that swooped in her stomach and coming up with a coherent answer.

By the grace of Merlin, she found her throat unlatching and she laughed softly before taking his hand in hers and pulling. “You happen to be in the presence of someone quite practiced at such a thing.” She quipped, unsure of how brazen wives were meant to be. “I’m sure we can manage…the two of us.”

Merde, where did that coquettish answer come from?

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