For the first time in months, I awoke naturally. There were no mothers or maids or alarm clocks, just the sunlight peeking through the drapes. And of course, Maxon beside me. His steady, even breathing told me that he was still asleep. I rolled over to face him. Who knew he could look so... adorable? Normally he appeared so regal, so composed. Now, in sleep, he looked like... a boy. He was not Prince- no, King- Maxon here, and I was not Queen America. He was Maxon Schreave, and I was America Schreave.

Mr. and Mrs.

I sighed, content.

I curled closer to him, enjoying the warmth. I don't know exactly how much time passed as I matched my breathing to Maxon's and felt the clean white bedsheets against my bare skin. Eventually, I felt him stir.

"Good morning, darling." His voice was thick with sleep, all rumbly and... kind of sexy.

My eyes were closed, but I felt him shift to kiss my forehead. "Good morning."

We just kind of stared at each other, absorbing everything. My mind flashed back to last night, and I blushed. I had worried that it was going to be painful, but that and the rest of my expectations had been shattered. It was all heat and warmth and pounding hearts and shaking legs, wide eyes and breathless kisses. It was love.

This was what it was going to be like for... well, for the rest of our lives. I let out a tiny giggle, unable to contain my pure joy at that fact.

"What's so funny?" asked Maxon. He playfully raised an eyebrow. "Do I have terrible bedhead?"

"No," I said, even though he did. "I just really love you a lot, that's all."

"Well, the feeling is mutual."

He pulled me close to him then, and languidly played with a lock of my hair.

"I hope our children have your hair, America. It's beautiful."

"No no, I want little blonde babies." I laughed, feeling giddy that we could talk so casually about the topic.

"Compromise: they'll be strawberry blonde."

"I'll try my best," I said, rolling my eyes. I tucked myself into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me.

After a while I made an attempt to get up.

"No, that is simply unacceptable. The first law I'm making as king is that we never have to leave this bed."

"The day is starting, your royal highness."

Maxon shoved his face into a pillow and let out a long groan.

I couldn't help but smile. "Fine. But I'm still going to have fun." I moved the pillow aside and straddled him- a bit surprised by my sudden confidence- and leaned down to kiss him. He reacted happily, putting his hands on my hips. I shook my head; this was my turn. I pinned his hands down to the mattress, lacing my fingers through his. I had no idea where my boldness was coming from, but I liked it. And I could tell that Maxon did too. All I could think was more, more, more. I moved down to his neck, to his collarbone. I sucked hard above his shoulder, and it left a mark. He let out a tiny gasp, and I looked up at him. I stopped for a moment.

"Is- is this okay?"

"Ye- yes." He shuddered, and it sent electric shocks somewhere deep inside me. I slowly moved back up to his mouth, kissing him until we were gasping and dizzy. There was a feeling in my chest, like something was swelling, expanding. Maxon caught my lower lip between his teeth, and it unraveled me. I stopped for a moment, and pressed my forehead to his, letting us catch our breath.

"I could," he panted, "I could get used to this, my dear." He grinned.

And for once, I didn't object.