Post by devilinthedetails on Oct 1, 2018 3:47:59 GMT 10
Title: Become One
Rating: PG-13 for sexual content
Prompt: True Love
Summary: On their wedding night, Roald and Lianne become one.
Become One
Still waving their censers, the priestesses, finished with their fertility prayers, retreated from the bedchamber Roald would now share with Lianne until the unforeseeable day when one of them passed on to the Peaceful Realms. The sharp scent of incense cloyed at his nostrils after the priestesses had left. Biting back a cough, he fought for dignity as he strode over to his bed and sat down on its side. The incense clung to the curtains of the four-poster bed and he thrust them aside impatiently, desperate to escape the smell of the incense before it choked him.
Pushing aside the curtains brought Lianne, hands folded before her as if in supplication and head bowed as though in prayer, into view again. Awkwardly aware that he must address her however much the incense suffocated him, he fumbled for a bottle of wine and a crystal glass on the nightstand beside him. “Would my lady care for a glass of Tyran red?”
“My lord is too kind.” Lianne kept her gaze lowered demurely, and Roald was surprised by the sudden desire he felt to lift her chin so her earth brown eyes locked on his sky blue ones in a union that would mirror that of heaven and earth. “I drank enough at our nuptial feast.”
At the banquet in honor of their marriage, Lianne had indulged only in a single sip of wine for every toast and never touched her glass of bubbling Tusaine white after that. Lianne, he remembered, was sensitive to wine as she was to so much else. He would have to never forget that as he did his duty to love and honor her.
He wanted to reach out to hold her—to comfort her after a long day that had to be as terrifying for her as it had been for him—but the skirts of her wedding gown, wide as the seven-tiered cake that had been served at the celebration of their union, intimidated him too much for him to dare to touch her.
His numb tongue feeling as if some mage had stolen control of it, compelling it to speak bold words he never would have dared to, he gestured at her gown and ordered in a voice rough as a crashing boulder that didn’t sound like him, “Remove everything except your undergarments and come sit beside me.”
Pink roses bloomed in Lianne’s cheeks as she quietly obeyed. Watching Lianne slip out of her gown and garters was strangely seductive, and his arousal only grew when the curves beneath her white shift danced in the candlelight as she hung her gown and garters on the back of a chair before gliding, graceful as she had down the nave at the temple before they exchanged the vows that bound them forever as man and wife, over to his bed. The mattress moved beneath him as she sank into it beside him.
“Your lips are beautiful rosebuds,” he murmured, guiding her mouth toward his so he could taste the sweet softness of her lips. The flowers in her cheeks blossomed brighter, and, when he trailed fingers along her cheek, all he felt was heat.
His fingers slid from her cheek to her collarbone, where he was confronted by the bewildering laces of her shift. As if to spare him the humiliation of bumbling with her laces, her hand came to rest on top of his, gently coaxing him through the weaving pattern of unlacing her shift. When the laces were undone, her palm fell away from his, leaving his to nudge the fabric away from her breasts, exposing them to his exploration. Lightly cupping her breasts that were ripe and yielding as peaches, he whispered through her flowing dark hair into the shell of her ear, “Thank you for obeying me earlier. I know I wasn’t the most gallant or charming when I ordered you to undress but I’ll try to make up for that now by being the perfect gentleman to you.”
“You’re my husband.” Lianne’s eyes were open, shining coins of surprised innocence as she gazed up at him. “I’ll always obey you and follow your lead.”
She looked so lovely when she was astonished that he didn’t want to stop amazing her. Urging her to lean back against the pile of satin pillows, he teased her nipples until he drew a faint gasp from her. She gasped again when his tongue tickled her earlobe. “I don’t want you to always follow my lead.”
“What do you want from me then if not to forever follow your lead as your faithful wife?” Her laugh at the end of her question suggested that she, fresh from the convent, didn’t understand how exhausting the expectation of always leading could be to a man who was born to be king.
“I want you to forever walk beside me as my faithful wife.” Her nipples were perked from his attention which meant there might be dew on the flower between her legs. Tantalized by the thought, he lifted her shift above her waist and stroked at the silk of her thighs until they eased apart. “I want you to become one with me.”
She didn’t answer—only moaned deep in her throat—as his fingers found the damp warmth of the flower between her legs. Her petals were soft as he delved into them, his every touch on this most sensitive part of her making her shudder beneath him. Awed by how his fingers felt inside her, he smiled down at her. “These are the tenderest petals I’ve ever felt. May I plant my seed inside them now?”
“You’re my husband,” Lianne repeated her answer from earlier as her hand closed over the laces of his breeches. Instead of untying them, she just rested her palm over an erectness he flamed with the knowledge that she must feel. There was a glint of playfulness in her gaze as she asked, “Shall I undo these for you?”
“At once, if you would be so kind.” He chuckled, humor chasing away any embarrassment he might have felt about his arousal. “I suppose you are better at unlacing than I am.”
“That comes of being a lady.” Lianne’s bright gaze swallowed his world as she began to untie his breeches so they could become one as man and wife should be.
Rating: PG-13 for sexual content
Prompt: True Love
Summary: On their wedding night, Roald and Lianne become one.
Become One
Still waving their censers, the priestesses, finished with their fertility prayers, retreated from the bedchamber Roald would now share with Lianne until the unforeseeable day when one of them passed on to the Peaceful Realms. The sharp scent of incense cloyed at his nostrils after the priestesses had left. Biting back a cough, he fought for dignity as he strode over to his bed and sat down on its side. The incense clung to the curtains of the four-poster bed and he thrust them aside impatiently, desperate to escape the smell of the incense before it choked him.
Pushing aside the curtains brought Lianne, hands folded before her as if in supplication and head bowed as though in prayer, into view again. Awkwardly aware that he must address her however much the incense suffocated him, he fumbled for a bottle of wine and a crystal glass on the nightstand beside him. “Would my lady care for a glass of Tyran red?”
“My lord is too kind.” Lianne kept her gaze lowered demurely, and Roald was surprised by the sudden desire he felt to lift her chin so her earth brown eyes locked on his sky blue ones in a union that would mirror that of heaven and earth. “I drank enough at our nuptial feast.”
At the banquet in honor of their marriage, Lianne had indulged only in a single sip of wine for every toast and never touched her glass of bubbling Tusaine white after that. Lianne, he remembered, was sensitive to wine as she was to so much else. He would have to never forget that as he did his duty to love and honor her.
He wanted to reach out to hold her—to comfort her after a long day that had to be as terrifying for her as it had been for him—but the skirts of her wedding gown, wide as the seven-tiered cake that had been served at the celebration of their union, intimidated him too much for him to dare to touch her.
His numb tongue feeling as if some mage had stolen control of it, compelling it to speak bold words he never would have dared to, he gestured at her gown and ordered in a voice rough as a crashing boulder that didn’t sound like him, “Remove everything except your undergarments and come sit beside me.”
Pink roses bloomed in Lianne’s cheeks as she quietly obeyed. Watching Lianne slip out of her gown and garters was strangely seductive, and his arousal only grew when the curves beneath her white shift danced in the candlelight as she hung her gown and garters on the back of a chair before gliding, graceful as she had down the nave at the temple before they exchanged the vows that bound them forever as man and wife, over to his bed. The mattress moved beneath him as she sank into it beside him.
“Your lips are beautiful rosebuds,” he murmured, guiding her mouth toward his so he could taste the sweet softness of her lips. The flowers in her cheeks blossomed brighter, and, when he trailed fingers along her cheek, all he felt was heat.
His fingers slid from her cheek to her collarbone, where he was confronted by the bewildering laces of her shift. As if to spare him the humiliation of bumbling with her laces, her hand came to rest on top of his, gently coaxing him through the weaving pattern of unlacing her shift. When the laces were undone, her palm fell away from his, leaving his to nudge the fabric away from her breasts, exposing them to his exploration. Lightly cupping her breasts that were ripe and yielding as peaches, he whispered through her flowing dark hair into the shell of her ear, “Thank you for obeying me earlier. I know I wasn’t the most gallant or charming when I ordered you to undress but I’ll try to make up for that now by being the perfect gentleman to you.”
“You’re my husband.” Lianne’s eyes were open, shining coins of surprised innocence as she gazed up at him. “I’ll always obey you and follow your lead.”
She looked so lovely when she was astonished that he didn’t want to stop amazing her. Urging her to lean back against the pile of satin pillows, he teased her nipples until he drew a faint gasp from her. She gasped again when his tongue tickled her earlobe. “I don’t want you to always follow my lead.”
“What do you want from me then if not to forever follow your lead as your faithful wife?” Her laugh at the end of her question suggested that she, fresh from the convent, didn’t understand how exhausting the expectation of always leading could be to a man who was born to be king.
“I want you to forever walk beside me as my faithful wife.” Her nipples were perked from his attention which meant there might be dew on the flower between her legs. Tantalized by the thought, he lifted her shift above her waist and stroked at the silk of her thighs until they eased apart. “I want you to become one with me.”
She didn’t answer—only moaned deep in her throat—as his fingers found the damp warmth of the flower between her legs. Her petals were soft as he delved into them, his every touch on this most sensitive part of her making her shudder beneath him. Awed by how his fingers felt inside her, he smiled down at her. “These are the tenderest petals I’ve ever felt. May I plant my seed inside them now?”
“You’re my husband,” Lianne repeated her answer from earlier as her hand closed over the laces of his breeches. Instead of untying them, she just rested her palm over an erectness he flamed with the knowledge that she must feel. There was a glint of playfulness in her gaze as she asked, “Shall I undo these for you?”
“At once, if you would be so kind.” He chuckled, humor chasing away any embarrassment he might have felt about his arousal. “I suppose you are better at unlacing than I am.”
“That comes of being a lady.” Lianne’s bright gaze swallowed his world as she began to untie his breeches so they could become one as man and wife should be.