Ethan's arms wrapped around Sylvie, his warmth instantly overwhelming her smaller frame. She stiffened for a moment, but the steady beat of his heart and the firm and gentle hold soon made her relax against him.

Her breath hitched when he brushed a hand through her hair, tilting her face up so their eyes met. There was no mockery in his gaze or any arrogance — only patience, as though he were asking her again without words: Are you certain?

Sylvie's lips trembled, but she nodded. "Please… Master," she whispered, cheeks burning.

Ethan smiled faintly and kissed her forehead first. "Good girl. But we'll go slow," he murmured, his voice softer than she'd ever heard.

He eased her down carefully, every movement measured so she wouldn't feel overwhelmed. Unlike with Lirael, where his hunger had run unchecked, here he moved as though handling something fragile and precious. His hands never rushed; they lingered on her shoulders, her cheek, her trembling fingers — letting her grow used to the closeness and letting her feel safe.

Sylvie clutched at his shirt, biting her lip, nervousness and anticipation mixing in her eyes. "M-Master… what if I can't…?"

"You can," Ethan reassured, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. "I'll guide you. And if it hurts and want to stop — just say the word. I'll listen."

The way he said it — steady and protective — made her heart skip. She believed him.

As he leaned closer, Sylvie turned her face aside, glancing at Lirael. Her sister lay boneless on the sheets, still flushed but smiling faintly as if extremly happy and fulfilled. It must feel amazing..

When Ethan kissed her — slow, lingering and without demand — she melted. Her trembling eased as he deepened the kiss by degrees, waiting for her to respond before taking more.

Soon Sylvie's hands no longer clutched his shirt in fear but held him with quiet need. Her whispered voice reached him between breaths: "Don't stop… master...I want this… with you."

Ethan's careful restraint held until he felt her body soften fully beneath his touch. Only then did he guide her, steady and patient, making sure that every shiver, every gasp, was from discovery — not from pain. His focus wasn't on himself, but on her: her first time, her trust and her wide-eyed surrender to something she had only imagined.

And when it was over, Sylvie lay curled against Ethan's chest, breathless but glowing, her eyes still damp with overwhelmed wonder. He stroked her back slowly, grounding her, whispering reassurances until she finally relaxed and drifted into a warm, contented daze.

Ethan kissed the crown of her head and whispered quietly, almost to himself: "My precious Sylvie… welcome."

Sylvie trembled in his arms, her breath feathering against Ethan's chest. The heat of his body was unlike anything she'd ever felt, almost overwhelming, yet her heart yearned for more. Ethan's hand stroked slowly down her back, reassuring and protective.

"You're shaking," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against her temple.

"I-I'm not scared," Sylvie whispered, though her voice quivered. "It's just… it feels so strong…and so new."

Ethan tilted her chin with gentle fingers, forcing her wide, tear-bright eyes to meet his. "Then let me guide you. You don't have to do anything — just feel and trust me."

Her lips parted, and she nodded faintly.

He kissed her then — not with the fiery hunger he'd shown Lirael, but with deep patience. His mouth moved tenderly against hers, coaxing, tasting and letting her grow used to the heat of it. Slowly, he deepened the kiss, until Sylvie's shy hands rose to clutch at him, clinging with an instinct she couldn't suppress.

When she finally kissed him back — timid and awkward, but earnest — Ethan smiled against her lips. His hand caressed down her side, lingering at her waist, then sliding lower with slowness until it reached the spot...it already felt wet from her previous activities. Sylvie stiffened, her breath hitching, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she whispered against his mouth, "M-Master… please… continue."

Her voice was fragile and pleading, but full of trust.

Ethan eased her down against the bedding, bracing himself so his weight wouldn't crush her. He brushed strands of golden hair from her flushed face, admiring the innocence that still clung to her expression. "You're beautiful, Sylvie," he said lowly. "Even more now that you're mine."

She bit her lip, face crimson and a rare expression forming over her face. "If… if I'm yours… then prove it master. Make me feel what Sister felt…"

Her words nearly broke his restraint, but he forced himself to move with infinite care. His hand slipped beneath her thin nightwear, fingers tracing the lines of her trembling stomach before brushing the warmth that made her shudder violently. Sylvie gasped, eyes flying wide, but Ethan soothed her with a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Easy," he whispered. "I'll be gentle. Just let me hear you and feel you."

Her small whimper turned into a muffled moan as he touched her more firmly, guiding her body into sensations she had never known. Sylvie clutched at his shoulders, burying her face against his neck as her voice spilled out, broken, needy and unrestrained.

Ethan's patience never wavered. Every stroke, every kiss, every careful press of his body against hers was meant to ease her into this new world. He moved as though unveiling her piece by piece, waiting until her tension melted into trembling desire.

And when her voice finally rose into a helpless cry, her first release shattering through her, Ethan held her tight, whispering into her ear: "That's it… good girl. That's only the beginning."

Sylvie sobbed softly against him, not from pain but from the overwhelming rush of ecstasy. Her body felt boneless, yet her voice still begged: "More… Master, don't stop… I want more…"

Ethan's restraint cracked at last. His lips curved into a wolfish grin as he shifted, positioning himself above her trembling frame. "Then watch closely, Sylvie," he said, his voice husky with promise. "I'll claim every part of you… until you can't beg for anything else."

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