In the Shadow of the Dragon (Corsair and Xana)

Xanaphia

Xanaphia

Evil Midweek Cutie
Joined
Sep 28, 2013
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Continued from here.

“Duke Guerno Ellesia, of Streganna,” the heraldsman announced. A kindly elder man, with laughing blue eyes and thinning hair approached the dais.

“My grandfather, on my mother’s side,” Ellistair whispered to Astrid, masking the gesture by planting a kiss in her locks.

“It is a great pleasure to gain yet another grand-daughter, Astrid,” Guerno beamed, folding her hold in his age worn ones. “My wife died in childbirth to Salvia, and with her died my hopes of having a large family. And yet I am blessed with many grandchildren, and also their spouses. I am sure someday you shall be a fine queen. But before then, I hope you can Ellistair will enjoy my gift to you. The Temeraire, a ship I had commission for you in Streganna Harbor.”

Astrid gasped, smiling as giddy as she had when she recited her vows to Ellistair, “I’ve never sailed before. Have you?” She turned to her husband, squeezing his hand from excitement. His fingers were nearly white.

“Grandfather has taken me out, a few times,” Ellistair explained, patting his wife’s hands with his free one. “Thank you, grandfather. I do hope you will join us on her maiden voyage.”

“Thank you,” Astrid repeated, stealing a kiss from her husband as the next guest approached the dais.

“Duke Osvir Kalvison, Duchess Jane Camden and Reyne Camden, of Archdale.” A middle-aged couple, and a young man a touch older than Ellistair. The men had similar builds, tall and strongly built, with light brown hair and beards. Osvir’s hair was longer and unrulier than his son’s. Jane had silvery blonde hair, tied back in an elaborate braid under a silver and sapphire hair netting.

“My Aunt, and her husband and son.” Ellistair explained, running his fingers through his bride’s hair.

“Welcome to the family, Astrid dear,” Jane gushed, as servants brought out a chest and delicately laid it out before the couple. Upon opening it, it was clear that the chest was lined with velvet, and formed to fit blue and cream flatware. “Fine porcelain dishes, from Huaxiam. Full dining service for 50.”

“Well, you will have to attend out first dinner party, aunt Jane,” Ellistair invited. His hand was on Astrid’s bare shoulder, and all she could think about was how good his touch felt. Which lead to thoughts about this evening, and what it would entail, and suddenly she was filled with nervous exhilaration. And each guest that present a gift was prolonging the wait until she would share a bed with her new husband and the realization made her anxious.

“Duke Domuk Stratresa and Duchess Atrix Camden Stratresa, of Greenhill.” They were tight lipped, no smiles, just bowing politely.

“Atrix is also my aunt.” Ellistair filled in for Astrid.

“A hand-crafted jewelry box, made from rosewood with gold inlays,” Atrix announced, monotone. She opened the box to reveal gold and ruby earrings, and matching cufflinks “The future queen needs something suitable to wear.” Astrid narrowed her eyes, sensing the insult behind the words, but the next group of guest were already before them before she could figure out a retort.

“Maquis Havian Malgrave, Marquess Svena Stratresa Malgrave and Svetlana Malgrave, of Greenhill.” A younger couple, only a few years older than them, with a young daughter still on her mother’s hip.

“Svena is my cousin. Aunt Atrix’s daughter. The Malgraves are sworn bannermen to the Stratresas. Svena is also the heir to her father’s duchy.”

“I am so happy for you, cousin,” Svena smiled. “Svetlana is hoping for more little cousins with whom to play.”

Ellistair and Astrid both laughed embarrassed laughs, Astrid turning even redder as earlier thoughts returned. “It may be a few years yet, dear cousin.”

“May I present the painting we had commissioned, The Dragon’s Flight.” She announced, unveiling the piece. There were oohs and aahs from the court, but Astrid laughed.

“Is that supposed to be Lord Verrier?” She asked, incredulous. Svena looked hurt by the question and Ellistair cleared his throat.

“it is a very creative piece, cousin, and it will look just lovely in the dining hall.”

Another couple approached now, also their age, “Marquis Rialen Faerchester and Marquess Rosa Faerchester, of Greenhill.” The young woman was swollen with child, seeming to glow in the soft candle light.

“Rosa is also Aunt Atrix’s daughter, and the Faerchesters are another sworn bannermen to Uncle Domuk.”

“We just returned from Al-Nithiel, and we fell in love with these rugs from Garabahad.” She explained, as the large carpet was unfurled to reveal a tree motif, embroidered in gold on a marron background.

“Just splendid, cousin. They will match the painting in the…the…” Ellistair started, trailing off as he stared out the balcony.

Shadows cast over the moon and stars, darkening the reception as two dragons took to the skies. While the rest of the party screamed and gasped, Astrid only laughed, “Now that is what Lord Verrier looks like!”
 
Ellistair stared up at the two shapes, one black as the niggt between tge stars, the ither shimmering silver-gold in the moonlight. "I spoke with him," he whispered. "But I never dreamed..."

The Dragon had been a monstrous thing, a mountain that shifted on a bed of precious things, ancient beyond measure. To obtain Astrid's hand he'd had to approach the Lord if Fearfire, ask the Dragon's permission. At the time he'd convinced himself that something of Verrier's bulk would be slow, that he could have evaded and outrun the Dragon if need be. But watching him on the wing, he realized just how very wrong he had been.

Shaken, he clasped Astrid's hand. "I still would have," he said softly.

The festivities did not return to normal until well after the two dragons were gone from sight. Even then, despite the best efforts of the musicians, the moid was dampened. More gifts rolled on. Carpets and clothing, furniture and household goods. The kind of things that a young noble family might require.

"Haldebar Awierigende, Senechal of Radharc Rhealta, and his wife Helga Swanhildottor-Awierigende,"the herald announced.

"Father, mother," Ellistar said, rising. "You have given me your daughter already. What more could I ask of you."

"Gave?" Haldebar laughed. "I dare say I couldn't have stopped herOW!"

The last came as Helga elbowed him in the ribs. "Be nice," she said sweetly.

"Right, right." He held out a leather to the Prince. "For the two of you."

Ellistar took it and opened it curiously. Inside were tools. Stone knves of different sorts, and a leather punch made of bone, nd a bow drill, and the like. "It's..." he hesitated.

"Leatherworking and firestarting tools," Haldebar explained. "The traditional gifts of my people."

Ellistar nodded once, remembering how long Haldebar had been part of the myths of the Mountain. "Is there a traditiinal way ti say thank you."

"Nah," Haldebar chuckled, "nit really."

Helga, meanwhile, presented a large cloth-wrapped bundle to him. He took it, startled by the weight, and opened it. "Books?" he said, peering at the embossed spinex. "The Hidden Well? Songs of the Ebon Queen? The Exploratiin of the Senses? I... don't kniw any of these."

Helga gave her daughter an impish look, tgen keaned close and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Astrid enjiyed them a lot, and thought I hadn't noticed. Maybe you'll enjoy them together, as well..."
 
Astrid braced her forehead against her palm once she realized which book her mother had selected for her, trying to hide her embarrassment form her husband, who glanced at her quizzically. “Why don’t we have our first dance now?” Astrid suggested, pulling her husband along before he could protest.

Ellistair was a very good dancer, she already knew. It was, after all, how they met, when they danced together that first night. Even as she was encouraged to dance with other men, she returned to Ellistair’s arms, again and again, craving the electricity of his touch and the sparkle in his eyes. And he was no less impressive now, dressed in his military dress coat. “I can’t believe we are really married,” She gushed, nuzzling his nose. Until to restrain her joy, her absolute adoration for her new husband. Once the music started, and Ellistair spun her in his arms, it was easy to forget there were others at in the banquet room with them.



Hilda watched wistfully as Astrid and her brother began their first dance as a married couple, completely jealous of the look of love in each of their eyes. Because her brother had married for love, she’d never be able to, her father even more insistent that she marry a lord of proper standing. As if the pressure to marry weren’t heavy enough on her shoulders.

“Don’t be jealous, dear sister,” Aevell comforted her, or at least attempted to, “It will be you next, someday soon.”

That is precisely what I fear, she thought but didn’t dare speak, just nodding. “I only hope I can find a match the fulfills me as match as Astrid fulfills Ellistair. Or that Nevyn fulfills you.”

“There is yet a man for you, Sweet Hilda. And I refuse to rest until I find him for you,” Aevell offered. It took all of Hilda’s patience not to sigh and roll her eyes at that.

“That is most kind of you, but you have enough to worry about. Already our cousins Svena and Rosa have children, even though you’ve been married longer than them,” Hilda reminded, hoping to get Aevell off her case. It was bad enough when father pestered her like so.

“Cousin!” Reyne called, approaching her table, “Would you do me the favor of a dance?”

“Graciously, cousin,” Hilda beamed, standing to join him. He was five years older than her, but had always been friendly, even though he was more of a playmate to Ellistair than her growing up.

“I recognized the look on your face,” he murmured, leading her onto the dance floor, “for it is one I have worn many times as well. Is your sister trying to arrange your marriage?”

“Only her and everyone else I know,” Hilda joked, even though it was rather close to the truth.

“Yes, I’ve been in that situation more times than I can count. And I can only imagine it is going to get worse, now that Ellistair is married,” he remarked, twirling her. “Even now I imagine my mother is trying to convince your father to let us marry.”

“Well, you would certainly be preferable to most of the suitors my father has suggested,” she replied, not entirely sure how seriously she was to take his statement, “I am just not sure I want to marry yet. Can’t I wait a few years before I begin having babies? It’s not like I am heir to anything.”

“You are ahead of me in line for the throne,” he pointed out, spinning her out the length of his arm.

“And that is why you want to marry me? To skip ahead a couple places?” she teased, releasing one hand to grab the other.

“That is the entirety of my plot,” he admitted, playfully, as her back was against his chest, “Because number four in line is much more enticing than number six.”
 
Ellistar spun his bride then pulled her close, pulling her back against his chest as his arms went around her waist. Propriety would have called for a little more seperation between dancers fir the next several.steps, but propriety could go hang itself. Astrid was his wife, after all, and this was their wedding celebration. And it had been a full dance since she'd been in his arms!

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. His arms tightened slightly, letting her feel him hard against her. "And I can't wait for these interminable dances to be over." Then the steps required him to spin her around and pull her close again. This time, he could look deep into her eyes as her hands rested lightly on his chest. Leaning in, he stole a quick kiss. Then a sight out of the corner of his eye made him smile with amusement.

"Ah," he smirked as they wheeled about. "Aevill is matchmaking again." He nodded with his head as they turned. "She's convinced that Reyne would make Hilda a good match - completely ignoring that he's a bookish intellectual and she'd live in a yurt on campaign year round if she could." He laughed again, shaking his head. "Reyne and Hilda, indeed. You'd be a better match fior her."

They wheeled, and he pulled her close. "Luckily," he whispered, caressing her lips with his, "you're my match." As the music ended he stood, slowly releasing a breath as their lips parted. "Shall we dance again?" he whispered. "Or shall I sweep you off your feetvand carry you off to our bed?"
 
Dancing with her husband had Astrid flushed. Both from the exertion of dancing for several songs straight, as well as the promise for later that each dance carried. The promise for later in Ellistar’s touches, in his eyes, in each stolen kiss. “I am the luckiest woman in the world, that I am your match.” And then she was melting in his arms, into the kiss, hard to imagine it got much better than this. Until his next question.

"Shall we dance again?" he whispered. "Or shall I sweep you off your feet and carry you off to our bed?"

“I don’t think I can wait another dance.” She admitted, her smile overcoming the rest of her features. And despite how intrigued his idea to carry her along had been, she dragged him, making a stop at the present table first. Where was it? …Ah yes. The Exploration of the Senses. That was the one. “I think you will like this one.”

She was giggling as they left the ballroom and entered the hall, pulling Ellistar into another, deeper kiss now that they had a modicum of privacy. Then she pushed him back, dashing away from his touch, “Catch me, if you can! If you catch me before I reach the bedroom, I’ll do whatever you want. If I make it, you have to obey me.”
 
"The Exploration of the Senses?" Ellistair echoed, glancing at the embossed cover. The title was Kavalic, a language he had a passing familiarity with. "It sounds delightful. Did you read it often?"

Her quick grin and bubbling giggles were answer enough, and his laughter echoed hers as they slipped from the ballroom as quietly as they could. The assembled guests would notice their absence soon enough, but he wasn't in the mood for a formal display at the moment. And even if he had been, the kiss she pulled him into would have changed his plans. His eyes closed as he molded himself against her, savoring the taste of her lips and tongue, only to open them again in surprise as she pushed him away. He stumbled backwards and she dashed away, silken gown billowing out as she ran. “Catch me, if you can!" she called back over her shoulder, taunting him. "If you catch me before I reach the bedroom, I’ll do whatever you want. If I make it, you have to obey me.”

There was no hesitation as he sprang after her. "Either way," he called back, "I win!"

Blood pounded in his veins as he pursued her through the halls and up the stairs, sometimes gaining and sometimes falling behind. By the time they were in the hall that led to his - no, to their chambers - she was close enough for him to grab. Indeed, twice he caught hold of her wrist and tried to pull her to him, only to have her wriggle from his grasp and run faster. Finally, as they reached their door, he threw himself at her. His arms wrapped around her waist and they went down in an undignified heap, rolling along the floor and thudding into the frame. She was half astride him, breasts heaving and lips parted as she breathed deeply, and his fingers combed through her hair as he pulled her down into another kiss.

"We seem to have reached the bedroom at the same time," he remarked casually, gently biting her lower lip. "Now, whatever shall we do about that?"
 
Giggling echoed through the halls, as Astrid tumbled with Ellistair. Rolling, with him on top, and then her, groping at his body. Damn, he was so hard against her, between her thighs, she could feel it under the mass of skirts she wore.

"We seem to have reached the bedroom at the same time," he remarked casually, gently biting her lower lip. "Now, whatever shall we do about that?"

Astrid’s eye lit up with realization, an idea clearly forming in her mind. Reaching over her husband, purposely rubbing her breasts against his face, she grabbed the book she’d brought. “Why don’t we let this book decide what we do first? Close your eyes and pick a page at random, and we will start with that.” Ellistair obliged her, closing his eyes and reaching for the book. Missing though, and squeezing her breast instead, making Astrid think he did it on purpose. She squealed, letting him caress her for another moment, before directing his hand in the right place.

He flicked it open a couple pages, leafing through it blindly before stopping. “There.” Sitting up, Astrid read the passage aloud.

“And your lips will journey over her legs, and up her thighs. Slow, teasing kisses that make her entire body squirm and writhe before you, dancing like a serpent to the rhythm of pleasure. Your journey will lead you to the apex of desire, an oasis of lust slick within her, and then you may slake your thirst upon her dew.” That drew a shudder from Astrid, who was already looking forward to bedding her new husband. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Grinding herself against Ellistair once more, she pushed herself up, and offered a hand to help him up as well. “Did you want to carry me over the threshold first? That’s one of your traditions, isn’t it?”
 
Ellistar squirmed a little as Astrid reached for her book, nipping gently at the exposed skin of her cleavage and making sure she could feel how hard he was. But tgen she shivered deliciously as she read the passage they'd selected, and he discivered he wasn't as hard as he could be. Not yet. "Yes," he managed, stroking her rear through her skirts, "lets certainly do that."

"Do you want to carry me across the threshold?" she asked as he took her hand and stoid. "That's one of your traditions, isn't it?"

He nodded, then swept her up in both arms. "It is," he said, fumbling at the door handle. "But, perhaps, the tradition is to open the door first?" Not that he was complaining - the effort of holding her while groping for the lock made her arms go around his neck, and her body press into his. But finally, the door swung open and he carried her into their rooms. Then he kicked the door shut behind them.

"Our home," he breathed, still holding her.

Part of a home, at least. They stood in a crowded sitting room, choked with most of the gifts of furnishings they'd received. Servants would arrange things under her direction later, and some of it would be shipped out to their estate in Malten. But for now, there would be a little tricky navigation to make it to the bedroom. Although...

He kissed his wife, lingering over the act. "Do you want me to carry you off to bed?" he asked. "Because that chair looks likecan excellent place fir me to begin my journey."
 
Astrid felt so light in Ellistair’s arms, floating upon their love, not a care in the world. And why shouldn’t she be? It was her wedding night, to a man she loved more she’d ever believe possible. The future was bright and beautiful, opening before them like door and he finally got a grip on the knob.

Pleased moans accompanied the kiss, enjoy the build-up, the anticipation. "Do you want me to carry you off to bed?" he asked. "Because that chair looks like an excellent place for me to begin my journey."

“I think we have a lot of furniture to test out this evening, my love,” She cooed, wriggling from his grasp. Not that she didn’t want to be held, mind, but the dress was getting in the way now. “Why don’t you try out this chair, first?” she suggested, pushing him down into in a way that suggested she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Standing before him, she worked herself out of her dress. A slow endeavor, considering it took a handful of servants to get her into it. She managed, stripping out of the skirt, and then the petticoat, and the cape, and the bustle, and the underskirts and finally her small clothes, until she was nude before him. High, perky breasts, nipples swollen in ache for her new husband, and firm, tight abs. Long lean legs, trailing up his own as she tantalized him, before straddling his lap. “Does my body please you, my husband?”
 
Undressing should have been a simple matter for him, as Ellistar's formal clothing was nowhere near as complicated as Astrid's. However, the show she put on for him as she stripped - at least some of which, he was sure, was gue to the nature of the clothing itself - captivated him several times. The agoniing revelation of her high breasts, and taught belly, and long legs left him scurrying in unseemly haste to disrobe as she stood before him wearing nothing but her wedding jewelry. His hungry grin matched her own as she pushed him back into the chair and stroked his leg with hers. "Does my body please you, my husband?" she asked, straddling his lap.

His cock twitched, brushing against her belly in answer. But he also smiled playfully, running just his fingertips over her thighs and up her belly. "Well," he murmured, "what I've seen so far is most pleasing." The gentle touch explored her ribs, thumbs brushing over her breasts as he exerted iron control to not simply cup them. No, she would no doubt be a virgin - her maidenhead zealously defended by her parents to preserve her virtue. As her husband, it was his duty to make her first time as painless as possible. So he stroked his hands over her shoulders, kisding her deeply as he caught her wrists and brought her hands to his chest.

"And what of mine?" he whispered, sucking lightly on her lower lip. "Does my body please you?" He released her wrists, caressing her arms and running his hands down her back. "Because it will," he murmured, palms molding to the smooth curve of her rear. "Many times. I promise you that."

Then he offered her a look of playful concern. "But, my love, we have a problem! However will my lips dance upon your thighs, and how may I slake my thirst with your dew, whle you are astride me?"
 
“I hunger for yours, sweet Ellistair,” Astrid assured him. How many times had she touched herself, imagining this night? Fitting two, sometimes three fingers inside herself, wishing that it was her beloved, wishing they were finally joined in flesh as they had been joined in their hearts. “I can hardly wait to discover all the pleasure our bodies can offer one another.

"But, my love, we have a problem! However will my lips dance upon your thighs, and how may I slake my thirst with your dew, while you are astride me?"

“That is a problem,” She agreed playfully, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “Because I want to feel that, so very badly. I want that, and yet, I cannot bear the thought of moving away from you. Why, it might take you a full one, perhaps even two second to rejoin me, if I were to move. And every second I am not in your arms may very well be an eternity.”

She pressed her breast into his chest now, as she moved into for another kiss, engulfing his mouth. “Alas, but there is no choice, my beloved. I shall rise on the count of three, and we can switch places. Are you ready? One…” She kissed him again, delving her tongue into his mouth, only to pull off with a wet plot after a moment, “Two…” Another kiss, deeper and lingering, fingers running through his hair. “Three,” she exhaled against his lips, pulling him up as she stood, twirling them both out with both hands , before pulling him back as she sunk into the chair.

He stood over her now, as she pulled him down for yet another kiss, brushing her foot against his calf, “I think I am ready for you now, darling. Are you quite thirsty for my dew?”
 
Ellistair grinned as he kissed Astrid back, lingering iver the act as his hands explored the bare contours of her body. "Parched," he assured her, slowly sinking to his knees before her. Then he hesitated, uncertain of how to proceed. His father had insisted that he bed a few prostitutes, a sort of 16th birthday present, but he hadn't done anything like this. "Legs and thighs, hmm?"

With a mental shrug, he lifted her left leg, resting her heel on his shoulder as he ran his palms gently over her calves. His lips followed, brushing gentle kisses over her skin and tossing in the occasional nip. "You have beautiful legs," he murmured against her, running his hands over her knee and along her thigh. "I knew you would, but the reality is better than my imagination."

It was hard, keeping this up. Well, maybe it was more correct to say he was hard? Because he was, hard and filled with an urge to just have his wife. But, he'd also been told that the first time could be painful for a woman. Anything that would ease that, and make it pkeasurabke for her, was something to embrace. Besides, he also had to admit that the way she was gasping and squirming already was turning him on more. So, grinning, he kissed her inner thigh before looking up at her. "Are you writhing like the serpent of pleasure yet?" he grinned. "Or shall I begin my journey anew, exploring your other leg?"
 
Biting her lip, Astrid watched her new husband get on his knees before her. He was so handsome, like this. Hiding his nerves in compliments to her and in gentle caresses. There’d be time for hard and hungry fucking another night, but Astrid found she rather likely his tender touch.

And his teasing! Damn, he knew just how to make her want it. Lips whispering over sensitive skin, just introducing teeth to drive her wild. “Oh, Ellistair, my darling Ellistair…” Blissful nonsense dripping from her lips, dripping like her lust between her thighs. Bucking, writhing, twitching, trying desperately not to kick him as her desire grew and built. Fuck, she wanted his tongue, or his fingers, or even his cock inside her already, foreplay be damned!

"Are you writhing like the serpent of pleasure yet?" he grinned. "Or shall I begin my journey anew, exploring your other leg?

Oh, would her torment never stop? “But, my love, you are nearly there. At the oasis of my desire,” she tried for playful, but her need seeped into her tone. It was in her fingers, tightening in his hair and bringing him closer to her slit. “Allow me to guide you the rest of the way.” There was a wild shudder as his lips pressed against hers, her body quivering in longing. “Drink, please, sweet Ellistair, and tell me how I taste…”
 
Ellistair sighed with pleasure as Astrid tugged his lips to hers, as she begged him with sweet sounds of pleasure to taste her. He did so, gently tracing her folds with his tongue. "You are delicious, my love," he murmured, before sliding his tongue over her once more. Then he slid his fingers over her mound, opening her and gently kissing her clit. It provoked a shiver and a soft sound of pleasure, so he did it again.

"I've never done anything quite like this," he murmured, a true enough statement. The whores his father had provided were well paid, enough to pretend to enjoy his inexperienced fumblings, but he'd never tried anything like this with them. "So, you'll need to tell me if you're enjoying it." He covered her slit with his mouth, lapping at her as he did. "Because I want you to enjoy this, Astrid."

Carefully, he slipped a finger into her and sucked at her clit. Her moan, and the feel of her walls gripping his finger, made his erect cock ache. "I want you," he murmured, slipping a second finger in. "Right now. But I want to see your pleasure first, my wife. I want to hear you begging for me as I pleasure you."
 
Ellistair’s tentative exploration had Astrid trembling, mewling with need. Nearly mad already, every light touch lit a fire within her. Then there was a low, long moan as he slid a finger inside, accompanied by the moist sucking of her slit.

“Don’t…don’t stop,” She gasped out, fingers tangling in his hair, “Right, right there! Ellistair, please, don’t stop!” Her legs were wrapped around his head now, knees over his shoulders and heels digging into his back. She couldn’t boast much experience, most a nervous and handsy fling with another Drakul, and Ellistair was already proving himself more attentive and in tune with her than her last lover.

Another finger was inside her now, moving within her wetness in time with his sucking on her clit. Two fingers, thicker than her own, opening her body to him. Her hungry cunt inviting him, to go harder, faster. Her cries were meaningless sounds of pleasure, beseeching him without words to continue. Legs begging him for more, tightening and squeezing him in place. Tightening and squeezing that moved into the soft muscles within her, taking him captive to her bliss. “Ellistair, oh love!” Her desire gushed against his hand and face.

She sank back into the chair, releasing him as rapture released her, now merely weighing down on her sweetly. “Oh, sweet Ellistair,” she grinned, her body limp in the chair. “Come, share my pleasure with me.”
 
After tasting her orgasm and listening to her cries of pleasure, all he wanted was to bury himself in her. So he crawled up her body, biting and kissing until his knees were braced between her thighs. Then he gripped her hips, lifting her and leaning her against the tall back of the chair until his aching dick was rubbing against her dripping slit. He kissed her hungrily as her hands gripped his shoulders.

"I need you," he groaned, cock slipping against her. "Now!" As he said it he managed to position himself right, and his cock drove into her cunt. He gasped at the silken feel, finding her wet enough and stretched enough from his attentions that he buried himself in her completely without resistance. Then he leaned into her, feeling her soft breasts and tight belly mold to his body ashe pressed her against the back of the chair.

"It doesn't hurt? I hope?" he gasped, the muscles in his ass and thighs flexing as he began driving into his wiffe. "I've heard... the first... first tine can... but..." But her smooth bare skin was sweet torture against his, and she was slick and tight on him, and the sounds she made didn't sound like cries if pain, and he was so fucking close from imagining this nght and tasting her pleasure. "I... Astrid... I'm... I'm... Astrid!"

He shouted her name as he climaxed, lost in the pleasure of it as his seed filled her. Finally, gasping, he kissed her. "I... I didn't... hurt you? Did I?"
 
Still quite sensitive form her orgasm, Astrid was quite receptive to Ellistair. His kisses and nips and touches and especially his cock. There were no words as he thrust into, just an exhilarated howl. Her body arched into his, offering more of herself, taking more of him, until he was hilted in her completely.

"It doesn't hurt? I hope?"

Astrid laughed, slightly confused but enjoying herself too much to care, “You are thick, love, but not so thick you would hurt me. Not after how wet you made me.” Ellistair would never hurt her. For one he loved her. Secondly, and most importantly, she’d never let him. Not like this. If he thought she’d lie back in pain and let him use her, well, he didn’t know her well at all. But it didn’t hurt, as he moved in her, driving that delicious length within her depths.

"I've heard... the first... first time can... but..."

Fuck, his momentum was amazing, robbing her mind and her voice. No time to answer his concerns with anything but moans and shudders. So she answered in nails dragging down his back and legs hold him deep within her. Answered in the clenching of her slit and in a hungry kiss, needing all of him, all at once. And he obliged her, filling her with his length, and then his seed.

"I... I didn't... hurt you? Did I?"

“No, never,” she beamed, still holding him close to her, nuzzling his nose. “Not like it was my first time, anyways. “
 
"It's... not?"

The words came out automatically, circumventing a mind befuddled by the delicious fatigue that followed a powerful orgasm. Most of him just knelt there, half holding his bride and half keaning into her for support, lost in the wonder of what had just happened. Lost in the feel of her sweat-slick body against his as he breathed hwrd, drinking in the heady scent if their pleasure. Then he blinked as the statement sank in. "It's not?" he repeated, a curious detached cincern in his tone.

He should be outraged, he knew. A good woman, he'd been taught, preserved her virtue until the wedding night to ensure the paternity of her children. But... "That," he said slowly, "may present us with a few difficulties."

How did he feel about it? Strangely, he found he didn't care. It wasn't as if he'd preserved his own virginity, after all. "Politically, I mean." He frowned, watching her reaction. "Brides are supposed to be, well, virgins." He shrugged. "I don't care," he added quickly. "But... there's a custom. People will want to, ah, see the, uhm... proof." A grimace. "It'll be a scandal, if they don't."

But then what? She was a Drakul of Fearfire, aftervwll. How would the Dragon respond, if she were made a public spectacle for her "shame"? He shuddered at the idea of his wrath descending on Landis. "Fuck," he growled, wishing he could ignire it - ignore the image of his grandfather's castle in flames - and lose himself in his wife. "We need to think of something."
 
"That may present us with a few difficulties."

“Why?” Astrid asked, confused why he cared so much. It was before she even met him. She loved Ellistair very much, but it was absurd to think she would have waited for a man she hadn’t known before a year ago.

“Politically, I mean. Brides are supposed to be, well, virgins. I don't care. But... there's a custom. People will want to, ah, see the, uhm... proof."

“The proof?” she asked, still confused. Why was he talking about all this politics now, when they should have been deciding which position and which piece of furniture they were going to try next. “What, was someone supposed to watch us or what? A bloody sheet?” she finally figured out, remembering some confusing details from books she had read. Her husband grimaced.

"It'll be a scandal, if they don't."

“So, what’s the big deal? You are going to be king eventually, right? I don’t care what anyone else says; I only care about you, sweet Ellistair. If you don’t care about my virginity, whose business is it, really?” She asked, trailing fingers along his arms. But still, he wore concern on his features, concern that felt out of place now. It was their wedding night, they should be spending the entire evening making love and exploring each other. Not worrying about some stupid custom. Why were others so concerned about her blood?

"We need to think of something."

“I can think of something,” she teased, pushing Ellistair off her. She crawled off the chair and over his body, relishing in the feel of his firm muscles and sweat slick skin. And he smelt of her, her pleasure coalesced with his, and the scent made her mouth water. “What’s so great about a virgin? Wouldn’t you rather have a woman who knows who to pleasure her man? A woman who knows what she wants, and is willing to take it?”

She hovered over his cock, half erect after spending himself within her, and breathed deep, savoring that proof of their union. Their consummation. She licked the flavor from his meat, staring up at him with hungry eyes “I want to taste our pleasure. I want to clean it off your cock so that we may anoint it again. And again and again and again, until we are utterly exhausted. Don’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, she swallowed his cock into her mouth, working up and down the shaft.
 
Ellistar's eyes rolled back, gasping in pleasure as he sagged back against the chair. His bride made a rather convincing argument, he decided, as he felt himself hardening in her mouth. This was something that a whotre had done for him once as well, but it was far more arousing when Astrid did it. Something about he curly black hair bouncing and her sweet lips swallowing his meat. He was torn between leaning back and enjoying the attention, andwrapping her curls around his hands and encouraging her.

She'd probably enjoy either one, he realized.

"Then taste me," he gasped, cupping her face and feeling her cheeks puff as she swallowed him. "And you will have those opportunities again and again, tonight and every night my love." He gripped her hair experimentally, and was rewarded by a low sound of pleasure that traveled along his cock and up his spine. In return he lifted his hips, offering her more of his shaft.

"How shall I have you next, Astrid?" he gasped. "On your hands and knees, mounting you as a stallion mounts his mare? Or in your back, staring into your eyes as I take my pleasure of you?" He starex down, watching her watch him as her tongue slithered over his meat. "Or will you have me next? Riding me, taking your pleasure from me ubtil we are spent?"

His cock twitched against her lips, and he groaned and tightened his grip on her hair. "Answer me," he groaned, "or I may simply use your mouth for my pleasure until I fill it with my seed."
 
Every single one of Ellistair’s suggestions sounded sublime, such that the only answer she could give him was “all of it.” She wanted all of it, all of him, everything he had to give. And they had a lifetime to indulge and explore and discover.

But then as she continued savoring him, he became demanding. Fingers were tight in her hair, almost pulling, and it ignited a fire in her, a challenge. Another thing he wouldn’t expect from a virgin bride. She pulled of his cock with a wet plop and climbed over him, pushing him back as he tried to touch or help her.

“You shall learn, my sweet Ellistair, that a Drakul takes what she wants,” she purred, nipping at him throat as straddled him. Latching onto a vein to mark him, she worried the skin until it was a dark purple. “Mine,” she growled in his ear, brush dripping lips against his rock-hard meat. Her teeth found his lobe, tugging enough to make him throb. “You are mine, until you make me yours.” Shifting, she trapped his length between her thighs, squeezing him the entire way down.
 
Ellistar moaned, arching his back to offer his bride more of his cock as she mounted him. "I believe," he said with a grin, letting his fingers rest on her hips, "that I already did. Not so long ago, when I took you against this very chair.". He groaned softly, enjoying the way her body rolled beneath his fingers. The way her slick walls gripped his shaft as it ached for her. Still grinning, he caught her lower lip between his teeth and used it to pull her into a kiss.

"Am I yours?" he whispered, gently dragging his fingers up and along her spine. "Is this how you want to prove it, by fucking my cock? By riding your husband long and hard, until he empties himself into you?". He hoped his words were arousing her, because they were turning him the fuck on. But not as much as the soft firmness of her breasts as he cupped them.

"Show me," he husked, tracing her erect nipple with his lips. "Show me how Drakul takes her pleasure.". Now his tongue circled the same nipple before his mouth la at ched on, and he moaned into her flesh as he suckled. His hands explored her body, caressing her contours. Then he gripped her shoulders and flexed his hips, driving himself upwards into her cunt. "Be warned, though," he added with a hungry expression as he met her thrust with his own. "I don't surrender without a fight."
 
“Of course not,” Astrid purred, digging fingers into her husband’s shoulders as his thrust drove against her far barrier, “A lesser man couldn’t have won my heart.” The first time had been good. So good, but this time was even better, as he abandoned concerned about hurting her. Even better, as he took what he wanted from her, while she took her bliss from him. Hips and breasts bouncing in tandem, fighting against his grip on her shoulders. When he pulled her down his length again, she clenched, holding his fast within her depths. Waiting for him to lull his head back in euphoria before releasing him.

“Mine,” she moaned, moving again. Slowly, along his whole length. Letting his twitching meat tease her throbbing clit, letting the friction drive her wild. “My Ellistair…mine.” Moans turned into gasps, raspy and desperate as her pleasure built. Her rhythm built, feeding and fed by desire, hers and his, theirs, as inseparable as their bodies tangled up together.

Chasing that ecstasy became her entire purpose, as desperate as breathing. “My love…Ellistair…I love…you. I need…you...this…more…Ellistair!” Thighs locked upon her, holding him deep, fluttering muscles that trapped him within. This was even better than she could have imagined. She’d climaxed on fingers (her own and others) and against mouths (Ellistair’s and others) but never upon cock before. That fullness, pressed into walls that tightened and convulsed, made it even greater. Dragging out her rapture, reignited each time he flexed within her. Sharing this passion with him, upon him, consumed Astrid. It wasn’t the first time he would have expected this night, but it was the first he would experience.
 
The first time he'd entered her had been glorious, intoxicating with the feel of her slick walks gripping him until he'd spent himself into her. But this time, with his wife setting the pace and taking her pleasure from him? He had no words. Instead, he simply threw his head back and uttered a long moan of sensual pleasure. Her rhythm sped and slowed as she rode him with abandon, and his lips and hands feasted on her flesh as she gasped and moaned in erotic delight.

"Take me, my love," he murmured, teeth nipping little weeks on her flesh, stinging marks he soothed with his tongue. "Show... Show me... Astrid...". He gasped as clenched on his aching meat, and his fingers dug into the smooth muscle of her hips. "Show me... Astrid... How much you... How much you need me...". Her whole body arched as she gasped, clenching tight around him, and his lips latched on to one hardened nipple. Face pressing into her chest, he suckled hungrily at her.

Astrid climaxed with a hoarse cry that echoed from the walls, and the feeling of her slick pussy walls rippling on his cock made him gasp in turn. As her nails dug painfully into his back he moved his hands, biceps swelling as he moved her up and down his shaft, delighting in the feel of her clit dragging along his length. His own rhythm faltered as his own pleasure built, until he threw his head back in a wordless cry, thrusting upwards and pulling her down upon him. His head and body jerked helplessly as he spent himself in her, flooding her pussy with the liquid heat if his seed.

Finally, breathing hard, he pulled her face to his. "Perhaps," he murmured as he lingered over a kiss, "we should try to make it to the bed for a third time..?"
 
“In a…moment…,” Astrid huffed, pressing her head against his. “I don’t want…to move yet. I just want…this.” She kissed him again, deep. Exploring him, memorizing him. Memorizing this moment, with the feel of his love, hot inside her, filling and completing her. “I love you so much Ellistair. I still can’t believe I am finally your wife.”

She kissed him, lips between lips, and then again, tongue pushing into his mouth. Hands wandered his body, arms and shoulders and that strong, firm back. “I dream of this night so long. Fantasized about it, about you.” She giggled, nipping at his jaw. Fingers stroked down his sweat damp chest. “You were even better that I imagined. You feel even better than my fantasies of you. I don’t think we should leave this room for a week!” A wicked laugh followed, and her arm wrapped tight around him. Breasts pressing into his chest and she swore she could feel his heart beat, pumping at the same rhythm as her own.

“How would you have me, my love?” Teeth caught an earlobe, tugging it playfully. “I’ve, uh…never been mounted. Not the way you suggested. Does it feel good?”
 
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