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One of the things that Armand most appreciated about you since the beginning of your relationship was your patience with him.
You knew what Marius did to him, or at least, you made him fully aware of what Marius did to him. The grooming. The abuse. Not to mention how he was used at the brothel when he was no older than a child.
He was carrying a lot of pain and trauma, and you knew Armand thought he could only be loved through his body not his heart. That his skills were the only bargaining chip he had to get anything close to a companionship.
That was how it had always been. He had only known that reality.
That's why Armand didn’t understand how to deal with the dynamic he had built with you, at first.
Your touches never went further than cuddles, your hands never straying below his waist, as if it was a kind of intimacy you didn't seek from him.
He was so focused on learning how to accept this soft approach, that he didn't think even for a moment that there might have been additional reasons behind your actions.
And as long as you could, you were going to keep it that way.
--
You managed your act for a few months, longer than you had expected considering how sharp and observant Armand's mind was -- but he was finally healing something inside his soul with you, and you couldn't really blame him for not noticing your own struggles.
The truth was you loved Armand, both your minds and hearts were connected in ways you never thought possible. But you also desired him, you craved a physical intimacy with him.
There was one single problem: your body didn't work properly. You had been diagnosed with a pelvic floor disorder long before you had met Armand, and you had hoped to keep it a secret as long as you could.
When your previous partners had found out you had vaginismus, they had disappeared without a second thought. The hurtful words they had said was the last memory that remained of them.
Broken.
Defective.
Damaged goods.
That's why you were scared to tell Armand the truth. What if your love was not strong enough to withstand this burden. What if he left too.
You knew that moment was close. You had noticed how your relationship was changing.
The longing looks you exchanged were getting darker and lustful. Your touches lingered longer and were getting closer to places you had not explored of each other. But you were always the one to pull away first.
Even without words, you knew Armand felt he was finally ready for a more physical connection with you, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. Your truth kept getting stuck in your throat. You weren't brave enough.
It all came to a breaking point one winter night. Armand had just gotten back from a hunt earlier than usual and you were sitting on the sofa wearing your robe, with only your underwear underneath.
You had meant to get ready for bed before Armand got back, but you were so lost in the book you were reading to bother getting up from your spot and change into your flannel pajamas.
"To what I owe the pleasure of such a beautiful sight," Armand said as soon as he laid eyes on you.
You jumped at the sound of his voice, dropping the book on the floor.
"You are back early." You were doing your best to avoid his gaze, your hand moving slightly to fully close your robe around yourself.
Armand had seen you in your underwear before, that was not a problem, but you didn't know how to handle the heavy stare he was giving you in that moment.
You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't notice Armand moving until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you.
"Talk to me, my love." He was looking at you with softest eyes, but the pupils dilated were betraying the lust simmering underneath his skin.
He wanted you, and when you raised your head to match his gaze you knew he was seeing the same feeling reflected in yours.
"I'm fine," you whispered softly, as you felt one of his hands caressing your calf in slow movements, his touch inching higher with every stroke.
You fluttered your eyes at the sensation, taking a deep breath as you felt a wave of desire raise in your lower belly. You tried to lift your leg with the intention to slip away from his fingers, but he was faster. He gripped your ankle, preventing you from getting away.
"Armand–"
You had no chance to say anything further, because in a blink you found yourself straddling his hips, with Armand sitting on the sofa in the spot you were in before.
Your eyes widened at the position. You couldn't pretend not to see his lust anymore now, you were lying on it. You could feel how hard he was even through his pants, and you knew he could feel your wetness too, even with your underwear still covering you.
"Talk to me," Armand said more firmly, "I promised not to look into your mind, but you're making it very difficult, my love. I know there's something you're not telling me."
Your hands tightened on his shoulders, as you felt the muscles in your back and neck tense with nervousness.
A few seconds passed as you gathered your thoughts, and Armand waited patiently without moving an inch.
"I want you," you admitted finally, Armand's hands crawling immediately under your robe at your words, and resting lightly on your hips. He pulled you closer, making you slide more firmly on his lap. A light moan slipping from your lips.
"Do you?" Armand whispered softly in your ear.
You nodded, resisting the urge to start moving your hips against his cock through both of your clothes.
You took a deep breath as you pulled you head away to look at him in eyes again. "But I can't have you."
"Of course you can, my love."
You shook you head, your hair following your movement. "My body doesn’t work. I can't have sex, Armand."
He went completely still at your words, you weren't sure he was even breathing. "I don't understand."
"I have vaginismus. My muscles are too tight, making difficult and painful any kind of penetration."
You said it. You didn't run away. You kept staring at him, bracing yourself for the inevitable reaction.
"You never had sex?"
"A couple of times, before the diagnosis. It felt like getting repeatedly stabbed." You shivered at the memory. "I tried other times afterwards, but with no success."
"Is there a therapy? A cure?"
"Therapies, yes. I've been doing them for a few years now, but I don't know if they're working."
Armand frowned in confusion. "Why?"
"My last partners never wanted to listen or to try. They found my condition demoralizing, making their experience disappointing."
That was what most of them said in multiple different versions.
Armand's gaze hardened, as you felt his hands squeeze your hips. "Did they hurt you?"
"Not physically," you replied. "When they realized they really couldn't get inside, they disappeared."
You were making it sound so simple, but you didn't feel like getting into the details of each encounter. Not now that you were trying to understand what Armand thought about the whole situation.
His questions were something new and you weren’t sure what to expect.
He stayed quiet for a while, his grip still strong on your body.
"Please, say something," you begged. "It's okay if you don't want to be with me anymore, but say it."
His gaze hardened even more. "You think I want to leave you?"
You nodded not trusting your voice.
You felt his anger radiating off of him, as he raised both his hands to your face. He held you in place, staring at you so intensely you thought he could reach your soul.
"I love you. This won't change anything between us." He placed a small kiss to your forehead before pulling back again. "When I told you about my past you never even thought of leaving, why would I?"
You felt your eyes sting as you tried to hold back the tears. The tension completely leaving your body at his words.
You leaned forward, kissing him deeply on the lips.
"I love you, Armand."
He kissed you back, his hands going back to their place on your hips under the robe. He pulled you closer again, your chest pressing fully against his.
Your lust came back at full force, as did his.
This time you didn't hold your hips still as they started moving, sliding slowly on his cock.
"I want to feel it," Armand said, interrupting the kiss.
"What?"
"The tension in your muscles. Let me touch you, I want to understand."
You looked at him for a moment, waiting for fear to creep inside your mind, but all you could feel was love and trust.
You nodded.
"I'll go slow. If anything hurts or feels uncomfortable, you stop me. Okay?"
"Okay."
You felt his right hand slowly move downward, his eyes never leaving your face as he studied your reactions.
He moved your underwear to the side, his fingers sliding softly between your folds. A low hum resonated in his chest as he felt your wetness.
"You feel amazing, my love," Armand whispered on your mouth. Two of his fingers were tracing outside your lips with delicate strokes. "Here."
Of course, he had found the spot immediately.
"There," you confirmed.
"Will you tell me how to help you?" He asked, never once stopping his soft massage on your muscles.
"Yes," you replied, "I really want to have sex with you, Armand."
He hummed again at your words. "I can't wait to fuck you, little one. I know you look beautiful when you come."
You whimpered at his words, pressing down strongly on his fingers.
Armand moved his index higher and started to circle around your clit.
"Fuck," you moaned, your own fingers sliding through Armand's curls as you tried to ground yourself.
He already knew how to touch your body better than you.
Maybe it was time for the two of you to finally heal together.