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Instances of Intimacy

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Callum awoke to hands. Her hands touching from his shoulders to his thighs before returning to his stomach and swaying back and forth, dragging smooth, feather-light fingers across his skin. He knew what his wife was doing and sighed happily. Rayla leaned in and placed a kiss on his chest and, without opening his eyes, he nuzzled into her nodding a confirmation. 

 

Her long slender hand went to work touching and stroking. Callum laid serenely, enjoying every brush of her thumb and long stroke with a well-practiced grip. One hand was entwined in her hair and the other gripped the sheets as he shuddered and gasped softly. She lovingly brought him to climax as he moaned for her and she hummed happily. It was a sound that, after all these years, never ceased being his favorite. 

 

He was completely relaxed when he opened his eyes and grinned. Before she could say a word, he held her face and kissed her, pulling her flush against him into a loving embrace, and she returned his kisses happily. He muttered against her lips, “Happy Anniversary Rayla.” 

She pulled away and chuckled. “You do realize ye just pulled me right onto yet sticky mess, right?”

“Uhhhh and who, might I ask, made that mess?” he smirked and she smirked back. “Exactly, you brought it on yourself,” he teased. She laughed and kissed him again before rolling carefully to the side of the bed and reaching for something to clean herself off with.

“Happy anniversary muh darlin’ and a very good mornin’,” she sighed.

“Oh yes, a very good morning. Now where’s my present?” he put his hands behind his head and grinned directly at her. She threw a sock on his face and he laughed. 

 

This was a stupid game they’d played for long over a decade, every anniversary. They still managed to sass each other with the same where’s my real present bit year after year and somehow it was still funny. The trick was waiting for the best, funniest time to say it. Callum figured their marriage was built on at least thirty percent sass, so it was a fitting tradition.

 

She rolled back and straddled him. Rayla lifted the sock from his eyes and he looked up to see her narrowed eyes. “I’m the greatest gift yer ever goin’ tae get, husband, ” she quipped but couldn’t keep a straight face as she used the now soiled sock on his stomach before discarding it. She leaned down and kissed him with lips still laughing, but it turned into a sigh as his hands gently squeezed her thighs. 

 

As per Xadian tradition, this was the porcelain anniversary. Vases, teacups, and the admittedly stunning dish they received from her parents a few days ago were nice, but she was right. Twenty beautiful years with the love of his life was a gift all on its own. He smiled as she hummed, relaxed and happy and beautiful. Rayla’s white hair blew softly as a breeze came through the open balcony door. He memorized what he saw. Porcelain, he realized, her skin was like porcelain. Fair, elegant, breathtaking, smooth to the touch. He was caught in a daze when her teasing brought him back. 

 

“What’s that goofy look fer? Thinkin’ about how lucky you are tae be married tae me fer the majority of yer life? Ooooor some other sappy thing you’d like tae share with me?” She bit her lip and smiled as she wiggled from side to side for the comedic effect. 

He smiled and pulled her face down to kiss him. “I was, and I think you’re right. You’re my gift, my twenty-year perfect porcelain present.” He knew his grin was cheesy as he traced a line from her neck and down her arm. She shivered under his delicate touch and Callum grinned, taking her hand and interlacing their fingers.

“I don’ know if I’ve ever seen a traditional Drakewood teapot with this many... marks ” she sighed softly and gestured down the length of her body. She was self-conscious and as usual, he never understood why. 

“Sure, maybe not,” he kept touching her with the tips of his fingers. Tracing more lines from her chest to thighs, “ But you’re better than a teapot and I love even more, for each imperfection,” he explained while he ran a finger over a long raised scar on her hip. “This one, saving the world. You know some would consider that kind of a big deal. But that’s not the important one.” 

She laughed and smiled at him amused but didn’t interrupt. 

“Our daughter,” he said sweetly as he touched the wavy stretch marks on her breasts. He smiled at her and her eyes were soft. “And these ones… our son” the deep crevices that ran to her navel were something he knew she hated and covered whenever she could. But they were part of her, part of their life and family. “This one is-”

“You know it’s super weird you remember which stretch marks are from which babe, right?” she interrupted with a smile. 

“I have a good memory and I like looking at you. I offer zero apologies,” he grinned and she laughed. She laid down and curled into his side and he cuddled her close. 

“You mean it?” she asked, muffled into his armpit. 

Yes! Rayla… yes, you… you’re…” he had to move to kiss her again. His words always seemed to fail him when it came to his love for her. “You, your body, all of you is beautiful and perfect to me. Twenty years of changes and it’s only made me want and need you more.” She looked so cute, flustered and unsure of how to reply. He took the opportunity to continue, “You’re my wife and the mother of my children and I… Rayla I…” 

She just kissed him long and tenderly before speaking softly and running her fingers through his hair, “Mah sweet, big, dumb, wonderful human,” she smiled and kissed him “I love you Callum,” another kiss, “Happy anniversary.”

“I love you too,” he stroked her cheek with his thumb “Twenty more sound ok to you?” he chuckled.

“Oh I suppose, why not,” she sighed and he could feel her smile against his skin as she nuzzled in closer.

 

They laid there holding each other until Callum broke the silence with an impish grin. “So, where’s my real present?” she laughed and swatted him and pulled the pillow out from under his head. He laughed wholeheartedly.  

“Very funny aren’t you?” She pounced and rolled him, both of them giggling. “I’m the mother of yer children and what have I gotten, huh?” He snort-laughed as he swatted away her prodding attacks. “Now get that stupid smirkin’ face of yers down where it belongs before anyone can come knockin’,” she demanded good-humoredly. 

“Ok, ok, it’s my pleasure,” he winked before obeying happily. Callum enjoyed every bit of porcelain skin he kissed and every moan he caused with each flick of his tongue. 



His real gift was clay, not porcelain, but handmade by Rayla and their children. A set of little sculptures of their family. The work was amateur by most standards, but exceptional in his artist opinion. Her present was a large bouquet of aster flowers, per human tradition, and a handmade voucher signed and bearing the king’s seal. It granted the recipient fourteen consecutive days of royal childcare. Ezran initially hadn’t thought the seal was necessary and Opeli expressed that it was a gross misuse of the official crown sigil but Callum had insisted they should make it fancy. Ezran didn’t need much convincing. Rayla loved it.