judecorp | I have promises to keep.

Here's a laugh for you CDIers. I couldn't put up the whole thing because it was too darned long, but I thought you might want to be flies on the wall. :)

~//~

Addison's mouth opens softly as her breath catches, the flickers of the myriad of candles accenting the brown flecks in her eyes. She was not expecting this. Of course, she didn't know what she was expecting, but she is surprised. She forgets to be nervous for a minute or two.

Bradley just stands still for a moment, like a lump, letting you look around the room. Then he crosses to the bed and, with a laugh, lowers you to the heavenly sable, one knee settling on the bed as he does so for balance. "Alright. You can't wear it, but you can... initiate it, I guess."

Oh, he did /not/ just say that, did he? She stifles the first set of nervous giggles by running her hand over the fur of envy. "You are too kind. I may even let you share the honor."

Bradley's brows both lift and he coughs a bit. "Um, if you want to do it yourself, I'll let you and I'll just watch," he says, grinning.

Addison could die of embarrassment, and she has the flushed face to prove it, but she is determined not to make this any harder than it already is. "Will you stop with the teasing and kiss me already?"

Bradley laughs again and leans forwards, a hand falling to either side of your face. "So demanding, My Lady," he murmurs, face scant inches from your own. "You are so beautiful." Can a kiss be hesitant and hungry all at once? As Bradley's lips brush against yours, the gesture is uncertain, but he inhales sharply as he does so.

While still in the safety of her dress and his clothing, Cate can find courage to be a little demanding, a little demonstrative. She will take the lead on their first wedding-night kiss, placing a hand behind his neck to hold his face to hers. She has been waiting nearly three years for this.

The gentle urging of Addison's hand stirs a rumbling sound in Bradley's chest. Slowly, he responds to the insistence of his wife-- his wife!-- and deepens the kiss, settling some of his weight atop her and pressing her into the silken fur.

Addison's heart resumes pounding as the pressure of his weight is felt. What was his earlier thought about hesitance and hunger? If he were to ever speak of it, she would understand completely. Her heart seems to be pounding twice as hard - once for nerves and once for desire. She curls fingers in his hair, letting him take over the lead.

Leaning upon his elbows, Bradley's mouth plays across Addison's with growing need, plying her with kisses now. He seems in no hurry to move beyond the embrace at the moment, though, savouring the feel, the scent, the touch of her. Between one soft kiss and the next he whispers her name, worshipfully. "Addison..."

The sound of that name, the middle name that she's never really liked, suddenly becomes pleasing to the ears. She lifts her head to try to catch his lower lip lightly between her teeth, a mischievous grin in her eyes. "Mine," she states.

Bradley's lip is well and truly caught, his gaze widening. He laughs, the sound vibrating between the two of you. "Gieee ai li ack!" he insists.

Addison shakes her head from side to side in tiny amounts. "Mmm mmm," she chides. "Mine. All mine. I have a ring that proves it."

Bradley shifts his weight to one side and lifts fingers to try to nab her nose. "Ai eed ai li, Addison!"

Addison releases the lip. Tension breaker, had to be done. She presses a gentle kiss to his victimized lower lip. There.

Bradley gives up on the Quest for Addison's nose. "Ow," he grumbles. "Was it that bad?"

Addison answers him with another kiss, the sort of kiss that gets her heart pounding again. In a moment of daring, she breaks the kiss to remark, "You have more clothes on than I do." And a sword. Ow.

Bradley glances down at himself and gives a musing nod. "That's true. I suppose you want to do something about that, maybe?"

Of course, if you count the number of petticoats she is wearing, and everything else, he probably has less items. Details. She nods. "I do." The words are said with solemnity, her hazel eyes trying to meet his blue one.

It is a few moments before Bradley actually matches Addison's look. "Oh," he answers, eloquently, and nods. He pushes lightly up to a knee, and shifts to a sitting position to the side. "Well. That's your job, right?" he asks, and looks for the wine. "Want something to drink?"

Addison nods eagerly. Perhaps too eagerly. "Yes, please." Liquid courage. She will need quite a bit of it. "Is it? My job, I mean? It's not like, well..." She's waited, Majesty. Just like she was supposed to.

Bradley pushes to his feet to go and grab the wine bottle and the glasses, tucking one glass under his arm as he returns. "I get to undress you, you get to undress me, right?" he asks, uncertain but going for this deal anyways. He pours the glass full and offers it to you.

The undressing part is usually left out of the serious scientific books, books like _A Moral Lady's Marriage Primer_. However, she has seen such scenarios in romantic fiction. "Yes, it could go that way," she concurs. "Sometimes people take their own clothes off, I would imagine, but," she pauses, grinning impishly, "I do not think that would be as much fun."

Bradley admits as he presses the goblet towards your hand, "I'd probably be better at getting out of my own and you out of yours, but I guess there's something about... I don't know... undressing your bride, or your groom in your case, maybe. Am I making any sense?"

Addison takes the goblet and lessens its burden by half instantly. "No," she admits, "but I understand completely."

Bradley drops the other goblet from its spot beneath his arm onto the bed, then shrugs and takes a drink from the bottle. "Good, because then you can be explaining it to me," he jokes, humor warring with nervousness. "Well. What do you want to take off of me first?" He spreads his arms.

Addison empties her goblet and sets it on a surface near a candle. The first is easy. "The sword," she says with a nod. "Obviously. And then shoes."

"Well?" Bradley asks, unmoving except to take another drink from the bottle.

"Umm," she begins patiently, looking at her husband, "I need you to stand, I think, to get the sword."

Bradley complies with an amiable smile. "Done," he agrees, taking a half-step back from the bed. The candlelight glints off of the metallic embroidery to his wedding garb, and it shines within his eye as he looks at you.

Addison pushes herself up from the beautiful sable ('I'll be back, dear fur, I promise.') and moves to stand in front of him. "Gods above, but you are handsome," she admits aloud. "Teasing aside, Bradley, you honor me." She makes it to the point where her hands rest on his belt, but the sight of him in the candlelight, in his finery, distracts her.

Bradley tilts his head downwards to look at the woman who is his bride, his wife, his love, the person he is supposed to deflower tonight, and he quips lightly, "See? Charm. I've got it coming out of my ears."

Addison reaches one dainty finger and presses it over his lips. "Hush, you. I was being sweet."

Bradley answers forthrightly, "Don't be too sweet. My heart can't take it." He spreads his arms again, though, sucking his stomach in slightly from your touch.

Addison busies herself with a belt buckle, removing the belt and its weapon with a minimum of awkwardness. Belts are easy. "You can slip your own shoes off, I would think."

"You are demanding, aren't you?" Bradley murmurs, but obliges, putting a heel to the back of one boot and tugging while he pushes down on the cuff. Drawing his leg from the leather he asks, "So is it comfortable wearing that many layers of clothes?"

Addison half shrugs, watching the debooting as if it were something exciting. "You get used to it, but no. Not really. Give me a good pair of trousers and an undershirt any day. Or pajamas." She reaches for the wine bottle, taking a very necessary swig.

Bradley shifts to the other foot, dropping the other boot to the floor after a moment. "If you want to wear trousers, just make sure that they're tight," Bradley murmurs, straightening. "Now what?"

Addison cocks her head to the side. "Tight?" Her face is clouded with confusion. She examines him, deciding on her next plan of attack.

Bradley crosses his hands over his chest. "Yes, tight. Tight and form-fitting and then everyone in the whole kindgom will be drooling and jealous."

Addison laughs, shaking her head. "For that, the yoke and doublet've got to go." She reaches for silver buttons, still laughing. "Tight and form-fitting indeed."

"I'm serious," Bradley says, laughing a bit. "If you're going to learn a sword, you might as well look like you can kick someone's ass with it." His hands settle on your shoulders as you go for the buttons, idly toying with the neckline of your under dress. His fingers quest along the back for ties to loosen.

Addison laughs loudly, and quickly dips her head into his chest to muffle the sound. "I /can/ kick someone's ass, tight /or/ loose trousers." Another button, and then another. As she moves closer to stifle her laughter, it gives him more access to the back of her dress, which laces loosely if I remember correctly.

Lacings grow slack after a few moments of Bradley's tugging, working with them giving him something to do other than stand there awkwardly. "I should hope so, but image is everything, they tell me," he murmurs to Addison, swallowing as the doublet is unfastened and the soft shirt and undershirt beneath it are revealed.