The torturous pleasure he inflicted upon her last for what felt like an eternity. At times, Valencia had even begun to wonder if the white hot bliss he extracted from her was what the priests meant heaven to resemble. Perfect and distracting and all encompassing. It was a challenge now, one she nearly lost an infinite number of times, to remain quiet, to keep her signs of pleasure as gasps and sighs and sharp inhales. It was a challenge not to scream.

She laid stretched out like a cat after her first ever peak, her limbs as heavy as lead as sleep tugged at the corners of her mind. What felt like hours had passed since she last considered the exhaustion of the night, and after that - yes, she could certainly sleep for a week.

Except - Valencia's eyes sprang open as she realized that wasn't the actual consummation. As pleasurable and extracting as Don Juan's mouth had been, every diagram and lecture she'd encountered had mentioned his ... member and the release that he was to achieve. Then, and only then, would they be married in the eyes of God, would he truly be her husband.

She reached for him, her grip insistent as she urged him back atop her. There was still the challenge of his trousers to contend with, but there was time for that yet. Her hands cupped his cheeks lovingly, her eyes bright and alive as she took in the expression on his face. "I love you." Valencia then told him for the second time.

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