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Prodigious Masterpiece
Pessimistic Perfectionist
- Joined
- Dec 29, 2014
We are moving our roleplay from Private Messages to a thread.
The next two posts will be all of our previous posts until the current point in our roleplay.
The next two posts will be all of our previous posts until the current point in our roleplay.
The only time Charlotte Hillington ever knew true solitude was at night time in her room. Even then guards were posted in the hall outside her room, but it was as good as being alone. On any normal night it was something she enjoyed very much and often looked forward to. The castle had had no company for the week, so her evenings had been identical and equally uninteresting. For her, it was pure bliss. Curling up by the fire in the library or in her room and spending hours on a book was her favorite luxury.
As such, she'd moved from the fire to her bed with her book that night, falling asleep with it next to her. When rough hands woke her up, her scream was muffled immediately. They tied fabric around her mouth first and then her eyes. In the struggle she hadn't been able to see how many men there were, but their strength overpowered her easily. Through all her terror her only solace was feeling her nails dig into flesh, delivering a sharp scrape. There was a hushed curse, but no retaliation came her way.
Instead they rolled her over onto her stomach and her panic turned white hot, almost blacking out from what she feared would happen to her then. But they tied her hands together at her wrists, her feet at her ankles--they never touched her. Once she was lifted up she began screaming again, but it was impossible to make any real noise as gagged as she was.
Wearing only a thin nightgown and dressing gown, Charlotte was carried out into the cold night. The fabric covering her eyes and mouth were wet with her tears by the time she was dropped down onto a wooden surface and promptly covered with a sheet of fabric. How had these men passed her guards? Or any of the castle guards, for that matter? Where were they taking her?
She could only assume she was in a wagon or carriage of some kind, because they rode fast and hard. Every bump of the road they took landed square on her shoulder blade and hip, and within the first half hour she was certain she was bruised. She squirmed until she was exhausted and her body ached, but it occurred to her finally: she'd been tied up with soft fabric, not harsh rope. So if she were going to be untied, her skin would be red but it would recover almost immediately. Did they plan to keep her alive, then? Charlotte couldn't be sure the thought was comforting.
They rode and they rode and they rode. By the time the carriage slowed to a halt Charlotte had run out of tears and had spent the last few hours lulling in and out of consciousness. They lifted her up, her body almost in pain from finally being moved. Her long, blonde hair had been pulled back in a braid for the night, but that fashion state was long gone. The leader of the men hurried them along, her panic returning at full-force now that something new was happening.
The air wooshed out of her lungs as she was abruptly tossed down, but the landing was blissfully soft. She was on a bed? Squirming and resisting at full force again, the men handling her were clearly exasperated. Working against them, they relented and let her sit up on her knees.
"Please, m'lady, if you'll sit still I'll take the blindfold off."
That stilled her immediately. Sure enough, they were true to their word. It felt too bright in the room at first, and she could see out the window that it was nearly daybreak. Looking around frantically, she was astonished at where she was. It was a bedroom in a castle, a lavish one at that. She wasn't just in an upper class home, this was the home of royalty. She'd been carried out of the kingdom? Her stomach twisted at the thought of it, as there had been unrest within the kingdoms for the last few years.
Then all of the men stood suddenly at attention and he walked in. He walked right in, looking the picture of confidence and looking right at her. Blinking a few times, it hit her like a thump to the chest. Maximilian Trevaine. They'd been sixteen and seventeen the last time they'd seen one another, and now they were both nineteen and twenty. Maybe it hadn't been that long, but they were formative years. He seemed so much taller, and...well, she couldn't place it. Looking at him now, it dawned on her that they were adults.
She was in his room? But it didn't make any sense. This hadn't been the way she'd imagined meeting him again, though truthfully she'd always dreaded it. When they'd last met, it had been a disaster. Throughout their childhood they'd gotten along quite well, even remaining in correspondence--she still had his letters in her room at home. Their friendship had been important to her because Max simply wasn't friends with everyone, even if he could get along well with whomever he chose. He was a romantic, though, in the scandalous sense more often than not. His confidence worked well on most females, his reputation never suffering for it.
But then, he'd attempted to flirt with her. He'd asked her to be with him. It had been all she could do to keep her composure in the moment. Their conversations were the highlight of any ball for her, though she could usually put up with watching him eventually sneak away with some girl here or there. What had mattered then was that he treated her like a true friend, that he'd valued her thoughts and opinions. When he spoke to her, he listened. His reveal that he saw her the way he saw every other girl had been soul-crushing. His reaction to her refusal and plea for friendship had been even worse.
Yet, here he was now. He seemed angry, no he was angry. The argument he was having with his men made no sense to her out of context. The only thing she could pick up on was that Max wanted her untied, and he wanted the men to leave. Her heart continued to pound, but now there was hope. These two prospects were just fine by her. Evidently, Max won. Trembling with the adrenaline of her traumatic experience, she did not resist as she was untied. Rubbing her wrists and shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, she finally sucked in a large breath of fresh air from her mouth. Rubbing her mouth, her face of tear streaks, she ran her fingers through her mussed hair.
Watching the men file out of the room with low, wary eyes, only when they were gone did she stand on her legs. They were unsteady, but she managed. Tying her dressing gown around her waist for what proper coverage she could manage, she looked over to Max again.
"Maximilian." How long had it been sense that name had left her lips? Charlotte struggled for a moment, not knowing what to do. Should she be angry? It was hard to push passed all of her confusion. She'd fallen asleep in her bed and now she was in the Kingdom of Trevaine. Seeing him after so long, she wanted a happy reunion, but that didn't feel like what was happening. It didn't help that she felt close to breaking down again. "I don't understand what's happening."
Maximilian Trevaine, Prince of the Kingdom of Trevaine, son of King Richard II. Everyone within the kingdom knew him, and there was a joke among some of the court that, if the citizen was female, it was likely that Maximilian 'knew' them as well. Despite these snide comments, he was surprisingly well-liked, for a hedonistic prince who indulged in parties, drink, and sex. He'd always had a trustworthy face (and a handsome one), a confident demeanor, and a charming way with words. It had only ever failed him once, and of course, with his luck, it had failed him with the one woman he'd actually cared for.
Charlotte Hillington.
The two of them had spent their early adulthood together, for the most part. The courts knew them as friends, and the social circles whispered about how she could resist him just as they whispered about how clearly oblivious he was to her physical appeal. Hardly the case of course - he'd developed a slowly growing attraction to Charlotte, though he pushed it aside time and time again, instead satisfying himself with the pleasures of other women. He knew what Charlotte thought of him and his antics. Aside from his witty banter and honest discussion, he knew she disapproved of the way he spent time with other women. How he enjoyed those pleasures. But still, they had been friends. Close friends. He'd missed that for these three years, and his indulgences had clearly mirrored that - he drank, he fucked, and he neglected any sort of real duty.
And why had she left? Him. His own stupid error. Foolishly he'd thought that she'd understand, that he had wanted her in a way unlike any other way he'd felt for a woman. But no, she'd brushed him off, pushed him away as if he were trying to seduce her like any other woman. She'd scorned him for his approach, and, given his reputation, he could hardly blame her. Still, she'd cast off years of friendship over that misunderstanding, and he'd risked it all for what? What would a man of his nature want in a real, true relationship?
Evidently, he would have no choice but to find out. There were rising numbers of revolts and uprisings in nearby kingdoms, and his father, Richard II, was convinced that an alliance with the Kingdom of Hillington would be the only way to survive outright conflict. While the Kingdom of Trevaine was militarily powerful, it lacked the economic infrastructure to handle a sustained military conflict. All the wealth generated to the royal coffers was done through trade, and without an alliance, they would rapidly fall to ruin. Naturally, an alliance between the houses through marriage was an obvious choice, but since Charlotte had moved away and her family distanced from his, his father was certain it was impossible without taking underhanded action.
To Max's disapproval and dismay, his father planned and executed the kidnapping that led him to storm into his bedroom as the guards removed her blindfold. He was dressed simply, given the hour, in a black and white tunic with the emblem of the royal family stitched on the breast. Underneath, he wore only a pair of black trousers, and a belt and knife hung around his waist.
"Untie her, and get out." He snapped, not afraid to let his anger over the situation show. the guards shifted, looking at one another, then back to him.
"Sir, our orders were to leave her bound and... supervise to prevent trouble."
Max's glare could have cut impaled a man, and the guards recoiled slightly.
"I said, untie her, and get out. I can hold my own against a princess, thank you, and I'm barely going along with this damn plan as it is. If this is going to happen, it's happening my way." He said, holding his ground. The guards once again hesitated, but then went about, following his orders and untying her before quickly fleeing the room. Pursing his lips, Max let himself turn his back on her, sliding the bolt of the door into place before turning around.
She said his name, and it was as if his anger was blown away and replaced with... regret? Sadness? It was hard to tell.
"Charlotte." He said simply, giving her a sad smile. "I'm very sorry." He added, grimacing a little bit. "What happens next isn't really up to us, but I refuse to go along with it without telling you what's happening, or why. My kingdom needs security, protection. My father knows we could not withstand an uprising without an alliance, and your kingdom is the most suited for that bond. Despite my... objections, he's made up his mind. He wants me to marry you. But, of course, he knows that your family would not just simply agree to those terms, and so... He arranged for this. For you to be brought to my room, for us to... spend a night together so that we would have to marry." That sentence came from his lips with a tone of displeasure and irritation.
"Don't mistake my tone for disgust of you." he said, stepping slowly toward her. "This... this is simply not how I would have liked our reunion to happen."
He spoke her name and heat bloomed from her chest, prickling along her skin. It was so foreign to hear his voice after all this time, but there was also something in it that unsettled her. That he followed with immediately apologizing offered her no comfort. Anyone else may have tried to calm her or treat her like she was weak. They would have skirted around the truth, or tried to make it sound better than it was.
If anything could provide her comfort, it was that Max would just lay out the truth--even if it was going to be unpleasant. Though he face did not change, it was not shocking to hear him admit that his kingdom needed protection. Her father told her more of business matters than her mother liked, but he'd also let her continue her education beyond what was expected of a woman. She knew well that while the Kingdom of Trevaine had it's advantages, every bordering kingdom would struggle to remain afloat if a war truly broke out.
Her father had been more opaque about alliances, though it had originally given her relief to believe that he was uninterested in marrying her off for one. It felt unbelievable, but Charlotte could easily see where Max was going. As soon as he spoke the word marry her spine stiffened. Her lips parted, chest rising as she took in a breath, ready to object. It wasn't her decision, and doing it this way was no way to make an alliance.
But Max continued, revealing that his father had arranged for her kidnapping. Having met King Richard many times in her youth, it chilled her to the bone to think of it. Crossing her arms to cover herself more, nothing could prepare her for what he would say next. It was a reality so far from her own, it had never crossed her mind. Her dark blue eyes must've looked like saucers they opened so wide. The air dissipated from her lungs, the world seemed to tilt and she wondered if she were going to faint.
He stepped toward her and her mind snapped back into her body, she jerked back several steps. "Don't come near me." She snapped, her brows arching down as her rage twisted into her fear like thorns. She turned her body away from him, scandalized and horrified at the very idea. Worse than that, she was a prisoner. There was no way out. In just a few long-winded sentences he announced to her that her life was never going to be the same.
"This is abhorrent. Inhumane. I-I'm speechless." Trembling again, her fingers curled into fists as she desperately clung to what sanity she had left. "Your father never even reached out to mine about an alliance, he didn't even try! I would know if he did! Instead, this is the better option? Like thieves in the night...it's nearly morning now, it won't be long before my lady's maid comes to wake me up and finds me gone."
Her heart raced with the thought of it, but she knew even when they discovered her missing, they wouldn't know where she was. "Max." She said finally, her voice wavering just a little, betraying her emotion. "I can't just...do this." Glancing at the bed, she looked away from it immediately. Go to bed with him, almost a stranger to her now, before she was married? It was unthinkable. "If you're going to force me into this, then please can't we wait until after we're married?"
That was one thing he had always done for her - he was always honest. Clear, concise, honest. He wasn't going to lie to her now either, even if it made what he had to do tonight so much more difficult to handle.He watched her stiffen at his words, clearly jumping into a defensive mindset, afraid, horrified, appalled. Max couldn't blame her. He wasn't pleased with the arrangement, but he understood that it was something that his kingdom needed. She trembled and objected and snapped as he stepped to her, almost jumping away from him.
He did his best to remain calm and not snap back, though annoyance rose in him. How could she not see that this wasn't what he wanted either? He understood her anger but... She was lashing out at him.
"Charlotte. I don't approve of my father's tactics, but I - we - don't have a choice here. My father intends this to protect his kingdom, and I have a duty to that goal." He paused, breathing deeply, letting his bright eyes meet hers.
Those green eyes held a lot of emotion, emotion that was reflected in his handsome face, framed by dark hair that tucked back behind his ears neatly. A mixture fo frustration and resignation crossed his features as she asked to wait until marriage. "It's just as you said, Charlotte - we don't have a lot of time. Your absence will be discovered soon, and eventually, someone will remember something to lead them here. Money can do a lot of things, but not erase guilt. My father refuses to allow us out of this room until... well, until there can be no escaping a marriage between us." He paused, giving her a moment, and then stepped toward her again, reaching out toward her with a hand.
"I have to do this Charlotte, but I can make it easier for you. Better. I sent the men away so you wouldn't have to endure this with anyone here but me. Let me do this my way. I don't want this to be cruel."
Shaking her head as he discussed his kingdom, her gaze lifted back up to his. She was holding her anger, her look showed it--but her despair was leaking through. If anyone could at least understand his loyalties, it was her. In a more rational state, Charlotte would have admitted to him that her kingdom would profit from the alliance as well, though her father never would have forced her into it. He was a good man, though not sociable. As such, he didn't want to make alliances, even if his judgement....well, it wasn't her place to question his judgement.
Max's obvious frustration with her ruffled her feathers, to say the least. Dropping her gaze away from him, she closed her eyes, beginning to feel resigned to her doomed fate. Her arms were still wrapped around herself, and they squeezed tighter as he revealed how the men were able to make it to her room. It was a betrayal that hurt as much as this: her own people, her own guard had been bought off. Squeeze her eyes tighter as heat pooled behind them, she was determined not to be a weeping fool.
She heard him step forward again and her eyes opened, but she didn't accept his hand. "So, if I don't agree..." She trailed off, not wanting to hear it spoken allowed. He'd made it clear. If he didn't get her to submit, he'd bring the men back in to be witness or worse....to hold her down. Looking up into his eyes again, they were glassy but no tears had fallen. And it would be clear to him that he had won, and that she would agree most unwillingly.
"I have never...done anything." Charlotte said finally, quietly. She would have no idea what he expected of her, but she wanted him to understand just how much he was taking from her. "I have never been with a man in any sense. I've never been touched. I've never been kissed. I was...waiting." Slowly, she uncrossed her arms, turning to face him.
As her words faded off, not finishing her sentence, he knew she understood the two possible ways that this could occur, and he pursed his lips slightly, clearly unhappy with the arrangement, now that she was fully aware of it. And indeed, as she looked up to him, her eyes watery, he knew that he had won, though it was a hollow, unsatisfying victory.
She made it very clear what he would be stealing from her, that he was taking any chance for her to have a romantic first time. Biting his lip, he stepped to her, pressing a fingertip against her lips. "I don't have a choice when it comes to sex with you tonight. There's no way out of this otherwise. But if you should so wish, I will not kiss you until the moment you become my bride. I owe you that much." he said simply, letting the finger drop. "I have to take some of your firsts from you tonight, but I do not have to take them all."
With practiced ease, he undid the buttons of his tunic, letting it slide from his shoulders to the floor, revealing his masculine torso. it was lines with muscle, honed from his lessons with a sword, just as handsome as his face. His chest bared to her, he moved close, hands sliding to her hips, then up toward the back of her gown, where the buttons that held it up were fastened. With a practiced ease, he loosed them, letting the fabric fall.
He moved closer to her again, but this time she didn't resist. This time she remained still, her eyes lifting to look up at him. He had indeed gotten taller in the past three years, even if she had too, he'd still beaten her. She allowed him to place a finger against her lips, but couldn't stop herself from being startled at the word sex. Her flashes fluttered as she blinked rapidly, sucking in a breath and trying not to let her entire body jerk in response. No one except her mother had said that word to her, and even that had been in few, brief, awkward conversations.
It felt hollow now, to be called a bride. But it felt too cruel to say it out loud to him, despite what he was doing. He began to undress and she swallowed down the instinct to panic, though she couldn't fight the need to advert her gaze. Restless, her fingers trembled as they undid the knot of her dressing gown. Her heart felt like it would smash out of her chest, but she let the silky fabric slide off her shoulders.
Tentatively Charlotte looked back over to him, her eyes quickly glancing at his chest only once. Heat prickled up her neck to her cheeks, the flush obvious against her white skin. He moved in even closer, closer than any man outside of her family had ever been. His hands slid along her hips and she tensed, breathing in sharply through her nose. She was hardly dressed, meant to be in bed. It didn't surprise her at all when he undid the buttons as though he'd done it dozens of times before.
Remaining still, her eyes closed at the sensation of her nightgown sliding down off her body. Slim, pale shoulders and the same all the way down. Charlotte would never strike anyone as feeble, but underneath the proper clothing her frame was slender, her limbs fit and petite. Her breasts were small, her nipples a soft pink and slightly perked from the chill of being bared to the room. From her breasts down her flat stomach to the curve into her sex between her legs, Charlotte was totally bared to him. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up to him again.
He caught that little glance of her eyes to his chest and the blush that accompanied it. Despite the situation, the corner of his mouth twitched up a bit - it was nice to know that his physique didn't go unnoticed, even now.
She was soon bared before him, and as he eyes opened, his swept down her body, then back up, a small smile on his lips. "You're beautiful." he whispered softly, simply. and his hands guided her back toward her bed, guiding her to lay out on her back. Those hands touched her gently, slowly, caressing along her thighs, up, over her hips and across her soft, flat stomach to the curves of her breasts, which his fingertips traced delicately.
He followed her into the bed, hands warm on her soft skin as his thumbs brushed over her perky pink nipples and his eyes drank her in for the first time. he meant what he had said - she was delicately beautiful, like a work of art. She was all subtle curves and gentle slopes, and he truly wanted to explore every inch of her. Tonight, however, he'd do what he promised - he'd make it pleasant and gentle for her, and take nothing more than what he had to.
It was strange and unfamiliar to watch his eyes sweep down her body and know he was seeing all of her. It was as if his hands were already on her. You're beautiful. Briefly her breath caught in her throat, but kept her composure. She still didn't want this, but in the back of her mind behind her sadness she could see that he was being kind. It was hard for her to appreciate, and she didn't know if she ever would--but she would at least appreciate that sentence. Because she believed he meant it, that he really thought so.
He turned them to his bed, and as willingly as she could muster she climbed onto it. Naked, on Maximillian's bed. It was a position she'd once refused, but that had been three years ago. Given his polite words to her now, she could only assume their awful fight and his harsh words were forgotten--or that he wasn't angry with her anymore. But all of that felt so unimportant now.
His hands were soft and slow against her skin, no movement too fast to shock or surprise her. The bed dipped under his weight as he joined her, and her heart fluttered. Her lips parted as she fought back a shaky breath, his hands slipping up to cup her breasts. Charlotte allowed herself one restless fidget before lifting a hand to rest near her face, it now lay on her hair, which was splayed out delicately over the pillow.
His eyes continued to explore, and she was now aware of the warm paths his hands had left behind. The warmth built, glowing like a flame as it spread through her. She'd never felt anything like it. Then his thumbs brushed over her nipples and Charlotte sucked in a sharp, stuttering breath. Her nerves were wildly apparent, and it could easily seem like she was panicking. Her nipples hardened to his touch, the sensation electric through her. It shot straight like an arrow down her stomach to her core, shocking her completely.
She was clearly nervous and uncomfortable, jumping and letting out shaky breaths at the touch of his hands. Still, her body reacted to him, nipples hardening and perking under his light touch. With delicate precision, his lips pressed gently to her neck and he began to kiss slowly down, across her shoulder, then her collarbone, to her breasts. His lips lavished on her perky, small peaks, and those lips soon reached her sensitive nipples. His tongue darted, swirling around the bud with slow, delicate care as his hands caressed her sides down to her hips.
He took care in his touches, trying to soothe her. He went slow, letting each moment settle so she wasn't shocked by any action. Nothing he did was a surprise, hopefully - he wanted her to enjoy this, and he had meant every word he'd said. Once upon a time, he'd wanted this: her as his lover, his partner, his friend, and his companion. And now that this was happening, it was bittersweet. She was beautiful and delightful, but this was not how he had wanted this.
Not at all.
But she wasn't panicking, at least not as much as she thought she would be. No if anything, all of her nervousness was beginning to shift in a new direction. Her fear and anger had kept her from thinking about what would happen now that his hands were on her. His lips softly pressed against her neck and a fresh wave of shock came over her as more heat bloomed.
His mouth traveled along the slope of her collarbone and her eyes gazed up at the ceiling in wonder. Charlotte had certainly not been prepared for this...but she didn't know she'd needed to be prepared for this. How would she have guessed what he could do to her body? And then his mouth traveled lower and her lips parted with the realization of where he was going. By the time his lips had moved across her breasts, hovering over her nipples, they'd hardened completely in response.
Her heart hammered against her rib cage, and at this point she was struggling to control her breathing. His tongue swirled around her nipple and the sensation of it once again shot straight through her to her abdomen. The steady throbbing between her legs was totally foreign to her, and by now she felt like a furnace. Gently her back arched, her body restless--nearly humming from what he was doing to her.
Her hips twisted and shifted underneath him and she just couldn't hold it in anymore. A quaking breath left her, a small feminine noise accompanying it and betraying just what she was feeling. Charlotte felt heat prickle back up to her cheeks, more than a little embarrassed.
Her body arched in what was the most satisfying display of pleasure yet, despite her unwillingness to participate in this act. Her hips moved slightly, breath shuddering, a little soft sound of feminine want leaving her. He responded with a little growl of satisfaction, his eyes darting up to watch her flush as he nibbled lightly on her nipple.
One hand slid slowly across her stomach, then traced along her hip to inner thigh, dancing slowly upward. It to had an obvious destination as his fingers caressed along the folds of her sex, a lovely slit that no man had touched before. His fingers slid slowly through her lips, exploring her lightly with a gentle touch as his mouth kissed over to her other perky breast, taking that nipple between his lips as well, delighting in the taste of her skin.
His growl only darkened her flush, her spine arching more as she felt his teeth scrape against her flesh. Charlotte definitely hadn't prepared for this. What did she do? She was painfully aware that she knew nothing. And there was some conflict in her. Everything she was feeling, should she resist it? It hadn't been what she'd wanted, but now that it was happening was it wrong for it feel like this?
Max gave her very little time for deliberation as his hand moved across her stomach. The muscles in her abdomen fluttered and the throb at her core intensified to the point where she felt she would never be able to use her legs again. Perhaps she was a virgin, but she knew what would happen next.
His fingertips feathered over her thigh and her breathing turned heavy, her eyes flicking down to look at him as his mouth closed over her other nipple. Then finally he touched what no one had ever touched. He touched her, his fingers caressing along her folds, the sensation of it bursting through her. She could feel it now, how warm she was against his hand. And when his fingers pressed just beyond, she could feel her wetness.
A little overwhelmed, her head dropped back against the pillow, her body arching to his touch. She never could have guessed how it would feel. A shudder of pleasure rolled up her spine, and her hips bucked.
A soft, moaning growl rumbled in his throat as he discovered how hot and wet she was, surprisingly aroused given the situation. Her back arched up and her hips rolled and squirmed against his touch, clearly sensitive and full of desire, despite herself. He pressed a finger slowly into her slit, exploring her virgin sex with a slow, gentle touch as his teeth nipped once more at her nipple.
His own arousal was quickly growing obvious in his trousers as well, an impressive manhood that made a bulge between his legs. He debated just taking her instantly, now that she was wet and he was aroused, but instead opted for a different option - he wanted to ensure that even if this first time couldn't be what she'd hoped for emotionally, it at least was physically pleasurable.
And if there was anything he had experience with, it was that.
His finger curled slightly as it pressed into her, thumb brushing through her folds to gently grind against her clit. He let her nipple slip from his lips and he lapped his tongue over it once more before his mouth bit down gently on the upper part of her breast. With slow, gentle suction and the caress of his tongue, he left behind a dark marking of his affections on her chest, as if claiming her.
Charlotte bit down on her lower lip as he moaned again, discovering that her heart pounded harder each time he did so. Even with the situation, it eased her to know he enjoyed her body--a reality that surprised her. But what she had expected was for him to take her instantly, but then what did she know? Her lip slowly dragged itself free from her teeth as his finger slipped into her, her sex squeezing the digit tightly.
But then, oh then his thumb moved against her folds until it found that hot button. Her hips twitched upward reactively and the shock of the immediate sensation had her gasping. From that gasp her breathing grew heavy, little noises escaping her more and more as his thumb worked over her. The pleasure soared, tightening and building until she felt she were about to plummet off a cliff.
Her head pressed into the pillow as she arched, turning her face towards the back of her hand as the other twisted into the blankets of his bed, gripping for dear life. "Max." His name burst from her desperately as she shook beneath him, on the edge of something. It was almost torture but she knew she didn't want it to stop.
Her hips bucked up and her back arched, which were delightful enough on their own, but what really made him want her was the way her lips formed his name. "God, Charlotte." He breathed, every syllable of his exclamation in wonderment of her beauty and sexual appeal.
He knew that she was sensitive now, his thumb delicately brushing over her clit as his finger slowly slid into her, then back out, gently exploring her tight wetness. She clenched around the digit, clearly approaching the edge, and his tongue dragged across her skin. "Go on, let go. Enjoy it." His finger curled slightly within her, his mouth playing over her breast as he worked her upward, enjoying how her body moved, tensed, squirmed.
It was like she was nearly deaf, he sounded so far away. Her body took over, her hips arching against his hand. Each deep breath was a desperate reach for relief--for release, she realized. That's what she needed. She felt his tongue on her skin and nearly moaned, the urge of it deep in her throat. He encouraged her, instructed her. Let go. But what did that mean?
His finger curled inside of her, and she didn't have to wonder anymore. Charlotte fell, a sharp gasp catching in her throat before a cry of pleasure pushed its way out. It gripped her, every muscle in her body tightening, trembling with it. Then her hips dropped bonelessly to the bed, her breathing ragged. Staring blindly up at the ceiling, her head was spinning with it all as she tried to recover.
His breath gently coaxed her along, combined with gentle licks along her soft flesh. Her hips bucked up soon, and her body tight and trembling with pleasure, the first time she'd quite felt something like this. Then she came down, dropping to the bed for a moment. He slowly slid his finger out of her, pressing a gentle kiss to her chest as he rolled to his feet, pulling down his trousers.
There was another the reason the ladies loved him, aside from his charm, and it became clear - he was just as built below the waist, with a long, thick manhood superior to the norm, though not terrifyingly so. He was already hard for her, standing out from his body. His eyes danced down her body, enjoying the view.
"You really are a beautiful woman." he breathed softly, his hands on her hips and he stepped between her legs, pulling her toward him gently.
Finally the rushing whirl left her eardrums, leaving just the sound of her drumming heart. Charlotte tried to come to grips with what had just happened, given that she hadn't ever expected anything like it. She'd never felt so out of control, but at the same time...it had felt...
It was like the light in her brain was snuffed out as Maximilian pulled his trousers down, all thoughts vanished. He did it without hesitation, like it was the most natural action he could do. It had already been one thing to see a man's bare chest, but now he was as naked as she was. God, she was completely naked. He would obviously know where her eyes went before she forced them to look elsewhere--not before they trailed up his chest again.
The situation was impossible to begin with, but Charlotte couldn't decide if it was better or worse that it was Max. When she'd last seen him they'd just been breaking free of the awkward between-adolescence years, though he never seemed to have awkward anything even then. But still, now he was a man...if it hadn't been obvious to her when he first walked in, it was now.
Eyes on his face now, she watched as his gaze moved down her body. He'd already seen her, touched her, but she shifted nervously anyway. The throb between her legs returned at full force and she was beginning to worry it would never go away. His voice broke the silence, barely above a whisper. Twice now, he'd called her beautiful. Was he just being kind? It was still so hard to read him. But there was no way he could know how deep those words reached into her, burrowing into a secret spot buried away three years ago.
His hands moved to her hips and she somewhat expected him to rejoin her on the bed. Her eyes widened as he shifted her, pulling her to the edge of the bed. He pulled her closer and in her shock her thighs spread, effectively exposing herself and giving him a place right between them. She'd sat up somewhat, propped up on her elbows.
"W-well," Unsure how to respond to him, her gaze lowered and immediately flicked back up to his face when she remembered--no clothes. By now her cheeks were a permanent rosy pink. "We've both grown up...three years is a long time." It was a bit like poking an animal with a stick to see if it was dead or asleep, but there was no taking it back now. She was about to do the very thing she'd refused him then, the change of positions only made the reality of it more real.
He watched her as her eye dropped down beneath his waist, smiling slightly as her curiosity got the better of her before her embarrassment drove her eyes back up. Her thighs spread wonderfully as he pulled her to him, her sex displayed to him, the musky scent of feminine arousal light on the air.
Her words startled him a little - she had been so passive over the last few minutes, and now this. her words weren't said with any ill intention, and he recognized that, despite the flare of displeasure in his heart. She'd assumed the worst of him then, perhaps like she had thought of him ever since. He tried to push that aside.
"I thought you were the most beautiful woman in my life then too, if you recall." He said simply, keeping as much of the bite out of his voice as he could. Then his hips shifted slightly, lining up his manhood with her entrance.
"I'll be gentle."
There was no change in his facial expression, so it was impossible for to know if she'd upset him. That's what she'd been wondering after all, if he was still angry at her. Nothing so far had given her that impression, but it was impossible for her not to wonder. They had bigger things to worry about, but the past still hung over them--she was sure she wasn't the only one who could feel it.
Charlotte blinked in surprise at his response. It was a direct reference, and not at all what she'd anticipated. The heat that bloomed from her chest burned, and she couldn't decide what he meant by bringing it up. Something about it altered the two times he'd just called her beautiful, being forced to remember that. So then had they been lines as well? Just another line from playboy Prince Maximilian?
It was too much, and she very nearly lost her composure but his movement saved her. His hips shifted, the very tip of his length pressing against her entrance. Her heart hammered against her chest, her body tensing instinctively. I'll be gentle. It was like he sensed her sudden fear, and her eyes lifted back up to his vulnerably. She was so exposed...but even now, after everything, she still trusted him.
"I know you will." Surprising even herself, she meant it. Giving in, she let herself lay back down fully, forcing her spine to relax in the process.
He gave her a little smile, seemingly pleased that she trusted him even now to be gentle to her. He had no intention of making this cruel, but would much rather she be able to remember that he made this nice for her, despite the situation.
Once hand placed gently on her stomach, the other on her hip as he gently began to push inside her. His eyes met hers with a gaze of gentle concern, his movements calculated and careful. At any sign of discomfort, he paused to let her adjust, peppering little kisses and licks across her breasts and shoulders.
His hands caressed slowly, his breath hot on her skin. "Relax, and just enjoy the sensations." he breathed. He knew that she couldn't truly give in to the pleasure, given how unwilling she was in the moment.
Somehow, when his body leaned down over hers, she felt safer. His hands settled on her body and when she felt him pressing into her there was no denying it anymore. The panic burst to life but she held it down, knowing it would help nothing. He looked down at her, her eyes meeting his reluctantly, the moment already the most intimate of her life.
At the first feeling of resistance her back arched, her hands lifting up to his shoulders for something to hold on to. Her inner walls stretched slowly to accommodate the new intrusion, squeezing around his manhood tightly. It was new, unfamiliar. And he went slow enough that the most she felt was a mild discomfort halfway through, and even then a shift her hips while he waited fixed it all.
His lips pressed into the crook of her shoulder and neck and her eyes closed for a moment. Her fingers tensed as she squeezed around him tighter when his pelvis pressed against hers - he was completely inside her. She could feel every bit of him, the realization of it struck her. Opening her eyes when he whispered to her, she tilted her head to look at him, their faces incredibly close.
"I'm alright." She assured him quietly, a little breathless. It was true she wasn't as upset as she thought she would be, and maybe it was because he'd treated her so gently--in fact, she knew it was. Slowly her fingers slid over the skin of his shoulder blades until her arms were around him.
She reached up to his shoulders, clutching him as he began to enter her. She was tight, hot, but wet and aroused. He could feel her fingers tensing on his shoulders and he only pushed further as she adjusted, her breaths and sounds and touch saying all he needed to know. His lips kissed at her skin, soothing her as his pelvis came to press against hers and she clenched around him, causing him to groan softly.
As she gave him that soft assurance of her comfort, her arms wrapping around him, he began to rock his hips slowly, withdrawing his shaft three or four inches and then easing back into her, his pelvis sliding softly against hers, brushing against her clit and his lips leaving soft marks of affection across her neck and shoulder. A playful lick caressed her skin, and he whispered softly in her ear:
"Tell me where you want me to touch you."
It felt like madness that his groan of pleasure would ease her nerves, but it did. At least, considering she was a novice, she wasn't disappointing. But then Max rocked his hips, and she felt his length begin to leave her, and then return. It was incredibly slow at first and the little bit of speed he built up was still gentle, but as he worked into her again and again Charlotte felt was he was talking about.
Her first sensations had been tight and a little uncomfortable, but her body was wet for him. He pushed into her again, her lower back arching as the first soft wave of pleasure rocked through her. Oh. The pleasure built steadily, his mouth on her neck warming up her skin considerably. His tongue dragged along her skin and she barely managed to contain the shudder of pleasure it brought her. She felt his lips feather over her ear...
'Tell me where you want me to touch you.' Goosebumps erupted on her skin, her mouth opening in shock. Not just shock from what he'd said, but from how his words had affected her. Heat burst through her, and she felt her sex squeeze around him tighter when her body tensed momentarily. That was when she realized that being here with him like this--there could be no hiding, no withholding. They could both see every bit of each other.
Then his length pushed back into her and caught her off guard, a sound of pleasure escaping between her parted lips. Charlotte could practically hear his amusement, no doubt in the form of a smirk or a grin. Heat prickled over her cheeks for the umpteenth time, but she didn't shy away. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you enjoy making me blush."
Her back arched up slowly, body shuddering slightly in pleasure, and she shook at the caress of his tongue. her reaction to his words was more than he could have hoped for, combined with another slow thrust making her moan quietly, her body tensing and clenching around him in a wonderful manner. She was hot and flushed and he adored it.
She evidently picked up on that, her tone accusing but playful, a light chuckle came from him next, pulling back to smile down at her, his hands sliding up her body to gently cup her perky breasts. Once more his thumbs brushed over her sensitive nipples as he responded. "Oh yes, you're even more beautiful when you're flustered." He teased, and slowly withdrew from her before thrusting back in, a little faster now, but still more gentle and soft than he might have otherwise been.
"But mostly I enjoy making you wet, making you squirm, and making you moan." He added, eyes wandering her soft body.
So far she'd been unprepared for everything that had transpired tonight, but nothing compared to how unprepared she was for when he shifted to smile down at her. All of the air gone from her, her body arched with the movement of his hands until they cupped her breasts. She bit down on her lower lip as his thumbs played with her nipples, the sensation of it a jolt straight to her sex.
His pace picked up, another struggled breath escaping her before a moan left with it. Of course he could say such things without hesitation...it was so Max. It struck her again that it had been three years since she'd seen him and now that they were together again he was inside of her. Her blue eyes were steady on his even as he looked down at her body, content with just watching him.
She was getting wetter, the sound of their sex mingling with the sounds of their breathing in the room. As he steadily became a little faster, the pleasure steadily built as well. Shifting under him, her hips arched up restlessly as his came down to thrust into her. Still watching him, her fingers lifted to softly comb into his hairline. Caressing through his dark locks to the back of his head, her breathing grew heavier as the muscles in her abdomen tightened.
Her body arched once more and he groaned softly, delighting in feeling her move under his touch and feeling her react to him. She let out a cute, sexy moan as he increased pace, and her eyes moved to his, watching him, a moment of intimate connection. He hadn't expected this to be so... intimately personal, given the circumstances, but here he was, gazing into her eyes, caught in the moment.
He could feel and hear her getting wetter as their sex filled the room, but his mind was on how her hand combed through his hair almost lovingly, and how her blue eyes looked deep into him. Her breaths deepened and her body tightened, causing a soft groan from his own lips as he leaned softly down, as if to kiss her. He caught himself, pausing lingering, his eyes dropping from hers to her lips and then back up again, a light of pleasure, attraction, and contentment in them.
"Charlotte... May I kiss you?" He whispered softly, his hands caressing over her body with a gentle touch, everything in the moment... wonderfully soft.
When his eyes met hers, she found she couldn't look away. But wasn't that how it had always been? He was driving her crazy the way his body moved over hers, the heat from him covering all of her. She could just feel the hard outlines of his body against the soft curves of her own.
The pleasure of him lifted higher, her sex squeezing tighter around him. She'd never felt anything like this. Lost in his gaze when his mouth lowered, her chin lifted, bring her lips closer to his in a purely instinctual response. It shocked her immediately after, but she hadn't been aware she'd done it until after he paused. She thought, even her body felt, that he was going to kiss her--and after the big fuss she'd made, after his promise, she had been going to let him. The sudden pang of disappointment she felt as he stopped was a familiar sensation however. It was enough for her to drop her gaze.
But then he whispered to her again. Eyes lifting back up in surprise, she was almost too stunned to answer. Hadn't she already wondered what it would be like dozens and dozens of times? And he'd asked her, he hadn't just done it. He'd stopped himself, even. It felt like her chest was going to burst. She wanted to know what it was like to be kissed by him, what it was like to kiss him back.
"Yes."
Before she even answered, he could see the way her body shifted, back arching, head tilting back some as his lips moved down toward hers, and her eyes slid away from his as he paused, only to snap back up when he spoke. Her soft, one word permission was more than enough for him, and he closed that final gap, finally kissing Charlotte, finally kissing the girl he'd always wanted to kiss most.
His lips moved softly on hers, just gently parted, a hot, slow kiss with no hunger or aggression behind it. It was gentle and sweet and caring, but with sensually sexual burn to it. He groaned softly against her mouth, letting himself delight in her as the pleasure built, her body and the slow, gentle thrusts into her tight wetness causing him to climb further and further, approaching the peak of ultimate pleasure.
Her body pressed up against his, soft curves against hard lines, molding into him, and he truly believed that she fit him perfectly.
Just a single, small inhale was all she managed before Max pressed his lips against her. She was ready, every instinct in her body moving her mouth against his, her eyelids already fluttered to a close. So this was the taste of Maximilian Trevaine. A groan of her own echoed quickly after his, her body arching up flush against him. She moved with him now, her fingers still tangled in his hair near the back of his head.
She could feel all of him, truly all of him now. The pleasure tightened, intensified, and this time Charlotte knew what was coming. For just a moment, just that moment, she let herself go. She let all of the trauma of being stolen away from her bed, her parents, her life, fade away and instead let herself be with him in the way she'd always wondered about. Kissing him until she had no breath left, she broke contact when she reached her peak again.
Her lips brushed against his as she sucked in a sharp breath, a small cry leaving her as she came, squeezing around him tighter than ever. Her body trembled under his, her head rolling back and pressing into the bed. Finally, his name burst from her again before finally the orgasm began to ebb away, releasing her.
That kiss was delightful, delicious, wonderful. He'd wanted to kiss her for years and now he was, her lips on his, slow, hot, sensual. And then, after a long, lovely kiss, his lips brushed away from his, a cry of pleasure leaving her as she came again, her body tightening more than ever around him, and he let out a loud groan. Her head tilted back and his name came from her lips, and he moaned.
His pleasure was driven over the edge by her crying out for him, and one final thrust pushed deep into her as he pulsed. Shuddering slightly, a low groan of pleasure from his throat, his orgasm burst into her, hot, thick and warm. His lips brushed over hers, his breath hot as he breathed heavily. "God, Charlotte... god..." He panted, and planted soft little kisses down her jaw and neck, hips slowly coming to s halt, his cock still deep inside her as he held her close, gentle little kisses.
Her hands pressed against his back, holding him as he shook above her. She gasped as he thrust deep into her, surprised by the warm sensation he filled her with as he came. The sound of him, his mouth near her ear, was everything. Still breathless, she turned her face into his as he came down, their lips brushing.
It had been a whirlwind of new sensations. His mouth peppered kisses down her jaw and her eyes looked up at the ceiling as her mind began processing. Unfortunately, reality had to return for them now. Charlotte blinked rapidly, so suddenly aware of how warm his body felt pressed down on hers, how hot and full of him she was.
Slowly her arms shifted to unwrap themselves from him, her hands gingerly resting on his shoulders. If she didn't withdraw a little, she'd become an emotional mess--and even she wasn't sure what that meant, the entire situation was so complicated.
"...What happens now?" She asked quietly, curious and desperate to keep things moving. The sun was at the ending stage of rising, and it was still very early in the morning.
As such, she'd moved from the fire to her bed with her book that night, falling asleep with it next to her. When rough hands woke her up, her scream was muffled immediately. They tied fabric around her mouth first and then her eyes. In the struggle she hadn't been able to see how many men there were, but their strength overpowered her easily. Through all her terror her only solace was feeling her nails dig into flesh, delivering a sharp scrape. There was a hushed curse, but no retaliation came her way.
Instead they rolled her over onto her stomach and her panic turned white hot, almost blacking out from what she feared would happen to her then. But they tied her hands together at her wrists, her feet at her ankles--they never touched her. Once she was lifted up she began screaming again, but it was impossible to make any real noise as gagged as she was.
Wearing only a thin nightgown and dressing gown, Charlotte was carried out into the cold night. The fabric covering her eyes and mouth were wet with her tears by the time she was dropped down onto a wooden surface and promptly covered with a sheet of fabric. How had these men passed her guards? Or any of the castle guards, for that matter? Where were they taking her?
She could only assume she was in a wagon or carriage of some kind, because they rode fast and hard. Every bump of the road they took landed square on her shoulder blade and hip, and within the first half hour she was certain she was bruised. She squirmed until she was exhausted and her body ached, but it occurred to her finally: she'd been tied up with soft fabric, not harsh rope. So if she were going to be untied, her skin would be red but it would recover almost immediately. Did they plan to keep her alive, then? Charlotte couldn't be sure the thought was comforting.
They rode and they rode and they rode. By the time the carriage slowed to a halt Charlotte had run out of tears and had spent the last few hours lulling in and out of consciousness. They lifted her up, her body almost in pain from finally being moved. Her long, blonde hair had been pulled back in a braid for the night, but that fashion state was long gone. The leader of the men hurried them along, her panic returning at full-force now that something new was happening.
The air wooshed out of her lungs as she was abruptly tossed down, but the landing was blissfully soft. She was on a bed? Squirming and resisting at full force again, the men handling her were clearly exasperated. Working against them, they relented and let her sit up on her knees.
"Please, m'lady, if you'll sit still I'll take the blindfold off."
That stilled her immediately. Sure enough, they were true to their word. It felt too bright in the room at first, and she could see out the window that it was nearly daybreak. Looking around frantically, she was astonished at where she was. It was a bedroom in a castle, a lavish one at that. She wasn't just in an upper class home, this was the home of royalty. She'd been carried out of the kingdom? Her stomach twisted at the thought of it, as there had been unrest within the kingdoms for the last few years.
Then all of the men stood suddenly at attention and he walked in. He walked right in, looking the picture of confidence and looking right at her. Blinking a few times, it hit her like a thump to the chest. Maximilian Trevaine. They'd been sixteen and seventeen the last time they'd seen one another, and now they were both nineteen and twenty. Maybe it hadn't been that long, but they were formative years. He seemed so much taller, and...well, she couldn't place it. Looking at him now, it dawned on her that they were adults.
She was in his room? But it didn't make any sense. This hadn't been the way she'd imagined meeting him again, though truthfully she'd always dreaded it. When they'd last met, it had been a disaster. Throughout their childhood they'd gotten along quite well, even remaining in correspondence--she still had his letters in her room at home. Their friendship had been important to her because Max simply wasn't friends with everyone, even if he could get along well with whomever he chose. He was a romantic, though, in the scandalous sense more often than not. His confidence worked well on most females, his reputation never suffering for it.
But then, he'd attempted to flirt with her. He'd asked her to be with him. It had been all she could do to keep her composure in the moment. Their conversations were the highlight of any ball for her, though she could usually put up with watching him eventually sneak away with some girl here or there. What had mattered then was that he treated her like a true friend, that he'd valued her thoughts and opinions. When he spoke to her, he listened. His reveal that he saw her the way he saw every other girl had been soul-crushing. His reaction to her refusal and plea for friendship had been even worse.
Yet, here he was now. He seemed angry, no he was angry. The argument he was having with his men made no sense to her out of context. The only thing she could pick up on was that Max wanted her untied, and he wanted the men to leave. Her heart continued to pound, but now there was hope. These two prospects were just fine by her. Evidently, Max won. Trembling with the adrenaline of her traumatic experience, she did not resist as she was untied. Rubbing her wrists and shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, she finally sucked in a large breath of fresh air from her mouth. Rubbing her mouth, her face of tear streaks, she ran her fingers through her mussed hair.
Watching the men file out of the room with low, wary eyes, only when they were gone did she stand on her legs. They were unsteady, but she managed. Tying her dressing gown around her waist for what proper coverage she could manage, she looked over to Max again.
"Maximilian." How long had it been sense that name had left her lips? Charlotte struggled for a moment, not knowing what to do. Should she be angry? It was hard to push passed all of her confusion. She'd fallen asleep in her bed and now she was in the Kingdom of Trevaine. Seeing him after so long, she wanted a happy reunion, but that didn't feel like what was happening. It didn't help that she felt close to breaking down again. "I don't understand what's happening."
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Maximilian Trevaine, Prince of the Kingdom of Trevaine, son of King Richard II. Everyone within the kingdom knew him, and there was a joke among some of the court that, if the citizen was female, it was likely that Maximilian 'knew' them as well. Despite these snide comments, he was surprisingly well-liked, for a hedonistic prince who indulged in parties, drink, and sex. He'd always had a trustworthy face (and a handsome one), a confident demeanor, and a charming way with words. It had only ever failed him once, and of course, with his luck, it had failed him with the one woman he'd actually cared for.
Charlotte Hillington.
The two of them had spent their early adulthood together, for the most part. The courts knew them as friends, and the social circles whispered about how she could resist him just as they whispered about how clearly oblivious he was to her physical appeal. Hardly the case of course - he'd developed a slowly growing attraction to Charlotte, though he pushed it aside time and time again, instead satisfying himself with the pleasures of other women. He knew what Charlotte thought of him and his antics. Aside from his witty banter and honest discussion, he knew she disapproved of the way he spent time with other women. How he enjoyed those pleasures. But still, they had been friends. Close friends. He'd missed that for these three years, and his indulgences had clearly mirrored that - he drank, he fucked, and he neglected any sort of real duty.
And why had she left? Him. His own stupid error. Foolishly he'd thought that she'd understand, that he had wanted her in a way unlike any other way he'd felt for a woman. But no, she'd brushed him off, pushed him away as if he were trying to seduce her like any other woman. She'd scorned him for his approach, and, given his reputation, he could hardly blame her. Still, she'd cast off years of friendship over that misunderstanding, and he'd risked it all for what? What would a man of his nature want in a real, true relationship?
Evidently, he would have no choice but to find out. There were rising numbers of revolts and uprisings in nearby kingdoms, and his father, Richard II, was convinced that an alliance with the Kingdom of Hillington would be the only way to survive outright conflict. While the Kingdom of Trevaine was militarily powerful, it lacked the economic infrastructure to handle a sustained military conflict. All the wealth generated to the royal coffers was done through trade, and without an alliance, they would rapidly fall to ruin. Naturally, an alliance between the houses through marriage was an obvious choice, but since Charlotte had moved away and her family distanced from his, his father was certain it was impossible without taking underhanded action.
To Max's disapproval and dismay, his father planned and executed the kidnapping that led him to storm into his bedroom as the guards removed her blindfold. He was dressed simply, given the hour, in a black and white tunic with the emblem of the royal family stitched on the breast. Underneath, he wore only a pair of black trousers, and a belt and knife hung around his waist.
"Untie her, and get out." He snapped, not afraid to let his anger over the situation show. the guards shifted, looking at one another, then back to him.
"Sir, our orders were to leave her bound and... supervise to prevent trouble."
Max's glare could have cut impaled a man, and the guards recoiled slightly.
"I said, untie her, and get out. I can hold my own against a princess, thank you, and I'm barely going along with this damn plan as it is. If this is going to happen, it's happening my way." He said, holding his ground. The guards once again hesitated, but then went about, following his orders and untying her before quickly fleeing the room. Pursing his lips, Max let himself turn his back on her, sliding the bolt of the door into place before turning around.
She said his name, and it was as if his anger was blown away and replaced with... regret? Sadness? It was hard to tell.
"Charlotte." He said simply, giving her a sad smile. "I'm very sorry." He added, grimacing a little bit. "What happens next isn't really up to us, but I refuse to go along with it without telling you what's happening, or why. My kingdom needs security, protection. My father knows we could not withstand an uprising without an alliance, and your kingdom is the most suited for that bond. Despite my... objections, he's made up his mind. He wants me to marry you. But, of course, he knows that your family would not just simply agree to those terms, and so... He arranged for this. For you to be brought to my room, for us to... spend a night together so that we would have to marry." That sentence came from his lips with a tone of displeasure and irritation.
"Don't mistake my tone for disgust of you." he said, stepping slowly toward her. "This... this is simply not how I would have liked our reunion to happen."
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He spoke her name and heat bloomed from her chest, prickling along her skin. It was so foreign to hear his voice after all this time, but there was also something in it that unsettled her. That he followed with immediately apologizing offered her no comfort. Anyone else may have tried to calm her or treat her like she was weak. They would have skirted around the truth, or tried to make it sound better than it was.
If anything could provide her comfort, it was that Max would just lay out the truth--even if it was going to be unpleasant. Though he face did not change, it was not shocking to hear him admit that his kingdom needed protection. Her father told her more of business matters than her mother liked, but he'd also let her continue her education beyond what was expected of a woman. She knew well that while the Kingdom of Trevaine had it's advantages, every bordering kingdom would struggle to remain afloat if a war truly broke out.
Her father had been more opaque about alliances, though it had originally given her relief to believe that he was uninterested in marrying her off for one. It felt unbelievable, but Charlotte could easily see where Max was going. As soon as he spoke the word marry her spine stiffened. Her lips parted, chest rising as she took in a breath, ready to object. It wasn't her decision, and doing it this way was no way to make an alliance.
But Max continued, revealing that his father had arranged for her kidnapping. Having met King Richard many times in her youth, it chilled her to the bone to think of it. Crossing her arms to cover herself more, nothing could prepare her for what he would say next. It was a reality so far from her own, it had never crossed her mind. Her dark blue eyes must've looked like saucers they opened so wide. The air dissipated from her lungs, the world seemed to tilt and she wondered if she were going to faint.
He stepped toward her and her mind snapped back into her body, she jerked back several steps. "Don't come near me." She snapped, her brows arching down as her rage twisted into her fear like thorns. She turned her body away from him, scandalized and horrified at the very idea. Worse than that, she was a prisoner. There was no way out. In just a few long-winded sentences he announced to her that her life was never going to be the same.
"This is abhorrent. Inhumane. I-I'm speechless." Trembling again, her fingers curled into fists as she desperately clung to what sanity she had left. "Your father never even reached out to mine about an alliance, he didn't even try! I would know if he did! Instead, this is the better option? Like thieves in the night...it's nearly morning now, it won't be long before my lady's maid comes to wake me up and finds me gone."
Her heart raced with the thought of it, but she knew even when they discovered her missing, they wouldn't know where she was. "Max." She said finally, her voice wavering just a little, betraying her emotion. "I can't just...do this." Glancing at the bed, she looked away from it immediately. Go to bed with him, almost a stranger to her now, before she was married? It was unthinkable. "If you're going to force me into this, then please can't we wait until after we're married?"
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That was one thing he had always done for her - he was always honest. Clear, concise, honest. He wasn't going to lie to her now either, even if it made what he had to do tonight so much more difficult to handle.He watched her stiffen at his words, clearly jumping into a defensive mindset, afraid, horrified, appalled. Max couldn't blame her. He wasn't pleased with the arrangement, but he understood that it was something that his kingdom needed. She trembled and objected and snapped as he stepped to her, almost jumping away from him.
He did his best to remain calm and not snap back, though annoyance rose in him. How could she not see that this wasn't what he wanted either? He understood her anger but... She was lashing out at him.
"Charlotte. I don't approve of my father's tactics, but I - we - don't have a choice here. My father intends this to protect his kingdom, and I have a duty to that goal." He paused, breathing deeply, letting his bright eyes meet hers.
Those green eyes held a lot of emotion, emotion that was reflected in his handsome face, framed by dark hair that tucked back behind his ears neatly. A mixture fo frustration and resignation crossed his features as she asked to wait until marriage. "It's just as you said, Charlotte - we don't have a lot of time. Your absence will be discovered soon, and eventually, someone will remember something to lead them here. Money can do a lot of things, but not erase guilt. My father refuses to allow us out of this room until... well, until there can be no escaping a marriage between us." He paused, giving her a moment, and then stepped toward her again, reaching out toward her with a hand.
"I have to do this Charlotte, but I can make it easier for you. Better. I sent the men away so you wouldn't have to endure this with anyone here but me. Let me do this my way. I don't want this to be cruel."
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Shaking her head as he discussed his kingdom, her gaze lifted back up to his. She was holding her anger, her look showed it--but her despair was leaking through. If anyone could at least understand his loyalties, it was her. In a more rational state, Charlotte would have admitted to him that her kingdom would profit from the alliance as well, though her father never would have forced her into it. He was a good man, though not sociable. As such, he didn't want to make alliances, even if his judgement....well, it wasn't her place to question his judgement.
Max's obvious frustration with her ruffled her feathers, to say the least. Dropping her gaze away from him, she closed her eyes, beginning to feel resigned to her doomed fate. Her arms were still wrapped around herself, and they squeezed tighter as he revealed how the men were able to make it to her room. It was a betrayal that hurt as much as this: her own people, her own guard had been bought off. Squeeze her eyes tighter as heat pooled behind them, she was determined not to be a weeping fool.
She heard him step forward again and her eyes opened, but she didn't accept his hand. "So, if I don't agree..." She trailed off, not wanting to hear it spoken allowed. He'd made it clear. If he didn't get her to submit, he'd bring the men back in to be witness or worse....to hold her down. Looking up into his eyes again, they were glassy but no tears had fallen. And it would be clear to him that he had won, and that she would agree most unwillingly.
"I have never...done anything." Charlotte said finally, quietly. She would have no idea what he expected of her, but she wanted him to understand just how much he was taking from her. "I have never been with a man in any sense. I've never been touched. I've never been kissed. I was...waiting." Slowly, she uncrossed her arms, turning to face him.
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As her words faded off, not finishing her sentence, he knew she understood the two possible ways that this could occur, and he pursed his lips slightly, clearly unhappy with the arrangement, now that she was fully aware of it. And indeed, as she looked up to him, her eyes watery, he knew that he had won, though it was a hollow, unsatisfying victory.
She made it very clear what he would be stealing from her, that he was taking any chance for her to have a romantic first time. Biting his lip, he stepped to her, pressing a fingertip against her lips. "I don't have a choice when it comes to sex with you tonight. There's no way out of this otherwise. But if you should so wish, I will not kiss you until the moment you become my bride. I owe you that much." he said simply, letting the finger drop. "I have to take some of your firsts from you tonight, but I do not have to take them all."
With practiced ease, he undid the buttons of his tunic, letting it slide from his shoulders to the floor, revealing his masculine torso. it was lines with muscle, honed from his lessons with a sword, just as handsome as his face. His chest bared to her, he moved close, hands sliding to her hips, then up toward the back of her gown, where the buttons that held it up were fastened. With a practiced ease, he loosed them, letting the fabric fall.
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He moved closer to her again, but this time she didn't resist. This time she remained still, her eyes lifting to look up at him. He had indeed gotten taller in the past three years, even if she had too, he'd still beaten her. She allowed him to place a finger against her lips, but couldn't stop herself from being startled at the word sex. Her flashes fluttered as she blinked rapidly, sucking in a breath and trying not to let her entire body jerk in response. No one except her mother had said that word to her, and even that had been in few, brief, awkward conversations.
It felt hollow now, to be called a bride. But it felt too cruel to say it out loud to him, despite what he was doing. He began to undress and she swallowed down the instinct to panic, though she couldn't fight the need to advert her gaze. Restless, her fingers trembled as they undid the knot of her dressing gown. Her heart felt like it would smash out of her chest, but she let the silky fabric slide off her shoulders.
Tentatively Charlotte looked back over to him, her eyes quickly glancing at his chest only once. Heat prickled up her neck to her cheeks, the flush obvious against her white skin. He moved in even closer, closer than any man outside of her family had ever been. His hands slid along her hips and she tensed, breathing in sharply through her nose. She was hardly dressed, meant to be in bed. It didn't surprise her at all when he undid the buttons as though he'd done it dozens of times before.
Remaining still, her eyes closed at the sensation of her nightgown sliding down off her body. Slim, pale shoulders and the same all the way down. Charlotte would never strike anyone as feeble, but underneath the proper clothing her frame was slender, her limbs fit and petite. Her breasts were small, her nipples a soft pink and slightly perked from the chill of being bared to the room. From her breasts down her flat stomach to the curve into her sex between her legs, Charlotte was totally bared to him. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up to him again.
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He caught that little glance of her eyes to his chest and the blush that accompanied it. Despite the situation, the corner of his mouth twitched up a bit - it was nice to know that his physique didn't go unnoticed, even now.
She was soon bared before him, and as he eyes opened, his swept down her body, then back up, a small smile on his lips. "You're beautiful." he whispered softly, simply. and his hands guided her back toward her bed, guiding her to lay out on her back. Those hands touched her gently, slowly, caressing along her thighs, up, over her hips and across her soft, flat stomach to the curves of her breasts, which his fingertips traced delicately.
He followed her into the bed, hands warm on her soft skin as his thumbs brushed over her perky pink nipples and his eyes drank her in for the first time. he meant what he had said - she was delicately beautiful, like a work of art. She was all subtle curves and gentle slopes, and he truly wanted to explore every inch of her. Tonight, however, he'd do what he promised - he'd make it pleasant and gentle for her, and take nothing more than what he had to.
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It was strange and unfamiliar to watch his eyes sweep down her body and know he was seeing all of her. It was as if his hands were already on her. You're beautiful. Briefly her breath caught in her throat, but kept her composure. She still didn't want this, but in the back of her mind behind her sadness she could see that he was being kind. It was hard for her to appreciate, and she didn't know if she ever would--but she would at least appreciate that sentence. Because she believed he meant it, that he really thought so.
He turned them to his bed, and as willingly as she could muster she climbed onto it. Naked, on Maximillian's bed. It was a position she'd once refused, but that had been three years ago. Given his polite words to her now, she could only assume their awful fight and his harsh words were forgotten--or that he wasn't angry with her anymore. But all of that felt so unimportant now.
His hands were soft and slow against her skin, no movement too fast to shock or surprise her. The bed dipped under his weight as he joined her, and her heart fluttered. Her lips parted as she fought back a shaky breath, his hands slipping up to cup her breasts. Charlotte allowed herself one restless fidget before lifting a hand to rest near her face, it now lay on her hair, which was splayed out delicately over the pillow.
His eyes continued to explore, and she was now aware of the warm paths his hands had left behind. The warmth built, glowing like a flame as it spread through her. She'd never felt anything like it. Then his thumbs brushed over her nipples and Charlotte sucked in a sharp, stuttering breath. Her nerves were wildly apparent, and it could easily seem like she was panicking. Her nipples hardened to his touch, the sensation electric through her. It shot straight like an arrow down her stomach to her core, shocking her completely.
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She was clearly nervous and uncomfortable, jumping and letting out shaky breaths at the touch of his hands. Still, her body reacted to him, nipples hardening and perking under his light touch. With delicate precision, his lips pressed gently to her neck and he began to kiss slowly down, across her shoulder, then her collarbone, to her breasts. His lips lavished on her perky, small peaks, and those lips soon reached her sensitive nipples. His tongue darted, swirling around the bud with slow, delicate care as his hands caressed her sides down to her hips.
He took care in his touches, trying to soothe her. He went slow, letting each moment settle so she wasn't shocked by any action. Nothing he did was a surprise, hopefully - he wanted her to enjoy this, and he had meant every word he'd said. Once upon a time, he'd wanted this: her as his lover, his partner, his friend, and his companion. And now that this was happening, it was bittersweet. She was beautiful and delightful, but this was not how he had wanted this.
Not at all.
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But she wasn't panicking, at least not as much as she thought she would be. No if anything, all of her nervousness was beginning to shift in a new direction. Her fear and anger had kept her from thinking about what would happen now that his hands were on her. His lips softly pressed against her neck and a fresh wave of shock came over her as more heat bloomed.
His mouth traveled along the slope of her collarbone and her eyes gazed up at the ceiling in wonder. Charlotte had certainly not been prepared for this...but she didn't know she'd needed to be prepared for this. How would she have guessed what he could do to her body? And then his mouth traveled lower and her lips parted with the realization of where he was going. By the time his lips had moved across her breasts, hovering over her nipples, they'd hardened completely in response.
Her heart hammered against her rib cage, and at this point she was struggling to control her breathing. His tongue swirled around her nipple and the sensation of it once again shot straight through her to her abdomen. The steady throbbing between her legs was totally foreign to her, and by now she felt like a furnace. Gently her back arched, her body restless--nearly humming from what he was doing to her.
Her hips twisted and shifted underneath him and she just couldn't hold it in anymore. A quaking breath left her, a small feminine noise accompanying it and betraying just what she was feeling. Charlotte felt heat prickle back up to her cheeks, more than a little embarrassed.
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Her body arched in what was the most satisfying display of pleasure yet, despite her unwillingness to participate in this act. Her hips moved slightly, breath shuddering, a little soft sound of feminine want leaving her. He responded with a little growl of satisfaction, his eyes darting up to watch her flush as he nibbled lightly on her nipple.
One hand slid slowly across her stomach, then traced along her hip to inner thigh, dancing slowly upward. It to had an obvious destination as his fingers caressed along the folds of her sex, a lovely slit that no man had touched before. His fingers slid slowly through her lips, exploring her lightly with a gentle touch as his mouth kissed over to her other perky breast, taking that nipple between his lips as well, delighting in the taste of her skin.
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His growl only darkened her flush, her spine arching more as she felt his teeth scrape against her flesh. Charlotte definitely hadn't prepared for this. What did she do? She was painfully aware that she knew nothing. And there was some conflict in her. Everything she was feeling, should she resist it? It hadn't been what she'd wanted, but now that it was happening was it wrong for it feel like this?
Max gave her very little time for deliberation as his hand moved across her stomach. The muscles in her abdomen fluttered and the throb at her core intensified to the point where she felt she would never be able to use her legs again. Perhaps she was a virgin, but she knew what would happen next.
His fingertips feathered over her thigh and her breathing turned heavy, her eyes flicking down to look at him as his mouth closed over her other nipple. Then finally he touched what no one had ever touched. He touched her, his fingers caressing along her folds, the sensation of it bursting through her. She could feel it now, how warm she was against his hand. And when his fingers pressed just beyond, she could feel her wetness.
A little overwhelmed, her head dropped back against the pillow, her body arching to his touch. She never could have guessed how it would feel. A shudder of pleasure rolled up her spine, and her hips bucked.
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A soft, moaning growl rumbled in his throat as he discovered how hot and wet she was, surprisingly aroused given the situation. Her back arched up and her hips rolled and squirmed against his touch, clearly sensitive and full of desire, despite herself. He pressed a finger slowly into her slit, exploring her virgin sex with a slow, gentle touch as his teeth nipped once more at her nipple.
His own arousal was quickly growing obvious in his trousers as well, an impressive manhood that made a bulge between his legs. He debated just taking her instantly, now that she was wet and he was aroused, but instead opted for a different option - he wanted to ensure that even if this first time couldn't be what she'd hoped for emotionally, it at least was physically pleasurable.
And if there was anything he had experience with, it was that.
His finger curled slightly as it pressed into her, thumb brushing through her folds to gently grind against her clit. He let her nipple slip from his lips and he lapped his tongue over it once more before his mouth bit down gently on the upper part of her breast. With slow, gentle suction and the caress of his tongue, he left behind a dark marking of his affections on her chest, as if claiming her.
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Charlotte bit down on her lower lip as he moaned again, discovering that her heart pounded harder each time he did so. Even with the situation, it eased her to know he enjoyed her body--a reality that surprised her. But what she had expected was for him to take her instantly, but then what did she know? Her lip slowly dragged itself free from her teeth as his finger slipped into her, her sex squeezing the digit tightly.
But then, oh then his thumb moved against her folds until it found that hot button. Her hips twitched upward reactively and the shock of the immediate sensation had her gasping. From that gasp her breathing grew heavy, little noises escaping her more and more as his thumb worked over her. The pleasure soared, tightening and building until she felt she were about to plummet off a cliff.
Her head pressed into the pillow as she arched, turning her face towards the back of her hand as the other twisted into the blankets of his bed, gripping for dear life. "Max." His name burst from her desperately as she shook beneath him, on the edge of something. It was almost torture but she knew she didn't want it to stop.
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Her hips bucked up and her back arched, which were delightful enough on their own, but what really made him want her was the way her lips formed his name. "God, Charlotte." He breathed, every syllable of his exclamation in wonderment of her beauty and sexual appeal.
He knew that she was sensitive now, his thumb delicately brushing over her clit as his finger slowly slid into her, then back out, gently exploring her tight wetness. She clenched around the digit, clearly approaching the edge, and his tongue dragged across her skin. "Go on, let go. Enjoy it." His finger curled slightly within her, his mouth playing over her breast as he worked her upward, enjoying how her body moved, tensed, squirmed.
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It was like she was nearly deaf, he sounded so far away. Her body took over, her hips arching against his hand. Each deep breath was a desperate reach for relief--for release, she realized. That's what she needed. She felt his tongue on her skin and nearly moaned, the urge of it deep in her throat. He encouraged her, instructed her. Let go. But what did that mean?
His finger curled inside of her, and she didn't have to wonder anymore. Charlotte fell, a sharp gasp catching in her throat before a cry of pleasure pushed its way out. It gripped her, every muscle in her body tightening, trembling with it. Then her hips dropped bonelessly to the bed, her breathing ragged. Staring blindly up at the ceiling, her head was spinning with it all as she tried to recover.
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His breath gently coaxed her along, combined with gentle licks along her soft flesh. Her hips bucked up soon, and her body tight and trembling with pleasure, the first time she'd quite felt something like this. Then she came down, dropping to the bed for a moment. He slowly slid his finger out of her, pressing a gentle kiss to her chest as he rolled to his feet, pulling down his trousers.
There was another the reason the ladies loved him, aside from his charm, and it became clear - he was just as built below the waist, with a long, thick manhood superior to the norm, though not terrifyingly so. He was already hard for her, standing out from his body. His eyes danced down her body, enjoying the view.
"You really are a beautiful woman." he breathed softly, his hands on her hips and he stepped between her legs, pulling her toward him gently.
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Finally the rushing whirl left her eardrums, leaving just the sound of her drumming heart. Charlotte tried to come to grips with what had just happened, given that she hadn't ever expected anything like it. She'd never felt so out of control, but at the same time...it had felt...
It was like the light in her brain was snuffed out as Maximilian pulled his trousers down, all thoughts vanished. He did it without hesitation, like it was the most natural action he could do. It had already been one thing to see a man's bare chest, but now he was as naked as she was. God, she was completely naked. He would obviously know where her eyes went before she forced them to look elsewhere--not before they trailed up his chest again.
The situation was impossible to begin with, but Charlotte couldn't decide if it was better or worse that it was Max. When she'd last seen him they'd just been breaking free of the awkward between-adolescence years, though he never seemed to have awkward anything even then. But still, now he was a man...if it hadn't been obvious to her when he first walked in, it was now.
Eyes on his face now, she watched as his gaze moved down her body. He'd already seen her, touched her, but she shifted nervously anyway. The throb between her legs returned at full force and she was beginning to worry it would never go away. His voice broke the silence, barely above a whisper. Twice now, he'd called her beautiful. Was he just being kind? It was still so hard to read him. But there was no way he could know how deep those words reached into her, burrowing into a secret spot buried away three years ago.
His hands moved to her hips and she somewhat expected him to rejoin her on the bed. Her eyes widened as he shifted her, pulling her to the edge of the bed. He pulled her closer and in her shock her thighs spread, effectively exposing herself and giving him a place right between them. She'd sat up somewhat, propped up on her elbows.
"W-well," Unsure how to respond to him, her gaze lowered and immediately flicked back up to his face when she remembered--no clothes. By now her cheeks were a permanent rosy pink. "We've both grown up...three years is a long time." It was a bit like poking an animal with a stick to see if it was dead or asleep, but there was no taking it back now. She was about to do the very thing she'd refused him then, the change of positions only made the reality of it more real.
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He watched her as her eye dropped down beneath his waist, smiling slightly as her curiosity got the better of her before her embarrassment drove her eyes back up. Her thighs spread wonderfully as he pulled her to him, her sex displayed to him, the musky scent of feminine arousal light on the air.
Her words startled him a little - she had been so passive over the last few minutes, and now this. her words weren't said with any ill intention, and he recognized that, despite the flare of displeasure in his heart. She'd assumed the worst of him then, perhaps like she had thought of him ever since. He tried to push that aside.
"I thought you were the most beautiful woman in my life then too, if you recall." He said simply, keeping as much of the bite out of his voice as he could. Then his hips shifted slightly, lining up his manhood with her entrance.
"I'll be gentle."
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There was no change in his facial expression, so it was impossible for to know if she'd upset him. That's what she'd been wondering after all, if he was still angry at her. Nothing so far had given her that impression, but it was impossible for her not to wonder. They had bigger things to worry about, but the past still hung over them--she was sure she wasn't the only one who could feel it.
Charlotte blinked in surprise at his response. It was a direct reference, and not at all what she'd anticipated. The heat that bloomed from her chest burned, and she couldn't decide what he meant by bringing it up. Something about it altered the two times he'd just called her beautiful, being forced to remember that. So then had they been lines as well? Just another line from playboy Prince Maximilian?
It was too much, and she very nearly lost her composure but his movement saved her. His hips shifted, the very tip of his length pressing against her entrance. Her heart hammered against her chest, her body tensing instinctively. I'll be gentle. It was like he sensed her sudden fear, and her eyes lifted back up to his vulnerably. She was so exposed...but even now, after everything, she still trusted him.
"I know you will." Surprising even herself, she meant it. Giving in, she let herself lay back down fully, forcing her spine to relax in the process.
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He gave her a little smile, seemingly pleased that she trusted him even now to be gentle to her. He had no intention of making this cruel, but would much rather she be able to remember that he made this nice for her, despite the situation.
Once hand placed gently on her stomach, the other on her hip as he gently began to push inside her. His eyes met hers with a gaze of gentle concern, his movements calculated and careful. At any sign of discomfort, he paused to let her adjust, peppering little kisses and licks across her breasts and shoulders.
His hands caressed slowly, his breath hot on her skin. "Relax, and just enjoy the sensations." he breathed. He knew that she couldn't truly give in to the pleasure, given how unwilling she was in the moment.
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Somehow, when his body leaned down over hers, she felt safer. His hands settled on her body and when she felt him pressing into her there was no denying it anymore. The panic burst to life but she held it down, knowing it would help nothing. He looked down at her, her eyes meeting his reluctantly, the moment already the most intimate of her life.
At the first feeling of resistance her back arched, her hands lifting up to his shoulders for something to hold on to. Her inner walls stretched slowly to accommodate the new intrusion, squeezing around his manhood tightly. It was new, unfamiliar. And he went slow enough that the most she felt was a mild discomfort halfway through, and even then a shift her hips while he waited fixed it all.
His lips pressed into the crook of her shoulder and neck and her eyes closed for a moment. Her fingers tensed as she squeezed around him tighter when his pelvis pressed against hers - he was completely inside her. She could feel every bit of him, the realization of it struck her. Opening her eyes when he whispered to her, she tilted her head to look at him, their faces incredibly close.
"I'm alright." She assured him quietly, a little breathless. It was true she wasn't as upset as she thought she would be, and maybe it was because he'd treated her so gently--in fact, she knew it was. Slowly her fingers slid over the skin of his shoulder blades until her arms were around him.
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She reached up to his shoulders, clutching him as he began to enter her. She was tight, hot, but wet and aroused. He could feel her fingers tensing on his shoulders and he only pushed further as she adjusted, her breaths and sounds and touch saying all he needed to know. His lips kissed at her skin, soothing her as his pelvis came to press against hers and she clenched around him, causing him to groan softly.
As she gave him that soft assurance of her comfort, her arms wrapping around him, he began to rock his hips slowly, withdrawing his shaft three or four inches and then easing back into her, his pelvis sliding softly against hers, brushing against her clit and his lips leaving soft marks of affection across her neck and shoulder. A playful lick caressed her skin, and he whispered softly in her ear:
"Tell me where you want me to touch you."
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It felt like madness that his groan of pleasure would ease her nerves, but it did. At least, considering she was a novice, she wasn't disappointing. But then Max rocked his hips, and she felt his length begin to leave her, and then return. It was incredibly slow at first and the little bit of speed he built up was still gentle, but as he worked into her again and again Charlotte felt was he was talking about.
Her first sensations had been tight and a little uncomfortable, but her body was wet for him. He pushed into her again, her lower back arching as the first soft wave of pleasure rocked through her. Oh. The pleasure built steadily, his mouth on her neck warming up her skin considerably. His tongue dragged along her skin and she barely managed to contain the shudder of pleasure it brought her. She felt his lips feather over her ear...
'Tell me where you want me to touch you.' Goosebumps erupted on her skin, her mouth opening in shock. Not just shock from what he'd said, but from how his words had affected her. Heat burst through her, and she felt her sex squeeze around him tighter when her body tensed momentarily. That was when she realized that being here with him like this--there could be no hiding, no withholding. They could both see every bit of each other.
Then his length pushed back into her and caught her off guard, a sound of pleasure escaping between her parted lips. Charlotte could practically hear his amusement, no doubt in the form of a smirk or a grin. Heat prickled over her cheeks for the umpteenth time, but she didn't shy away. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you enjoy making me blush."
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Her back arched up slowly, body shuddering slightly in pleasure, and she shook at the caress of his tongue. her reaction to his words was more than he could have hoped for, combined with another slow thrust making her moan quietly, her body tensing and clenching around him in a wonderful manner. She was hot and flushed and he adored it.
She evidently picked up on that, her tone accusing but playful, a light chuckle came from him next, pulling back to smile down at her, his hands sliding up her body to gently cup her perky breasts. Once more his thumbs brushed over her sensitive nipples as he responded. "Oh yes, you're even more beautiful when you're flustered." He teased, and slowly withdrew from her before thrusting back in, a little faster now, but still more gentle and soft than he might have otherwise been.
"But mostly I enjoy making you wet, making you squirm, and making you moan." He added, eyes wandering her soft body.
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So far she'd been unprepared for everything that had transpired tonight, but nothing compared to how unprepared she was for when he shifted to smile down at her. All of the air gone from her, her body arched with the movement of his hands until they cupped her breasts. She bit down on her lower lip as his thumbs played with her nipples, the sensation of it a jolt straight to her sex.
His pace picked up, another struggled breath escaping her before a moan left with it. Of course he could say such things without hesitation...it was so Max. It struck her again that it had been three years since she'd seen him and now that they were together again he was inside of her. Her blue eyes were steady on his even as he looked down at her body, content with just watching him.
She was getting wetter, the sound of their sex mingling with the sounds of their breathing in the room. As he steadily became a little faster, the pleasure steadily built as well. Shifting under him, her hips arched up restlessly as his came down to thrust into her. Still watching him, her fingers lifted to softly comb into his hairline. Caressing through his dark locks to the back of his head, her breathing grew heavier as the muscles in her abdomen tightened.
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Her body arched once more and he groaned softly, delighting in feeling her move under his touch and feeling her react to him. She let out a cute, sexy moan as he increased pace, and her eyes moved to his, watching him, a moment of intimate connection. He hadn't expected this to be so... intimately personal, given the circumstances, but here he was, gazing into her eyes, caught in the moment.
He could feel and hear her getting wetter as their sex filled the room, but his mind was on how her hand combed through his hair almost lovingly, and how her blue eyes looked deep into him. Her breaths deepened and her body tightened, causing a soft groan from his own lips as he leaned softly down, as if to kiss her. He caught himself, pausing lingering, his eyes dropping from hers to her lips and then back up again, a light of pleasure, attraction, and contentment in them.
"Charlotte... May I kiss you?" He whispered softly, his hands caressing over her body with a gentle touch, everything in the moment... wonderfully soft.
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When his eyes met hers, she found she couldn't look away. But wasn't that how it had always been? He was driving her crazy the way his body moved over hers, the heat from him covering all of her. She could just feel the hard outlines of his body against the soft curves of her own.
The pleasure of him lifted higher, her sex squeezing tighter around him. She'd never felt anything like this. Lost in his gaze when his mouth lowered, her chin lifted, bring her lips closer to his in a purely instinctual response. It shocked her immediately after, but she hadn't been aware she'd done it until after he paused. She thought, even her body felt, that he was going to kiss her--and after the big fuss she'd made, after his promise, she had been going to let him. The sudden pang of disappointment she felt as he stopped was a familiar sensation however. It was enough for her to drop her gaze.
But then he whispered to her again. Eyes lifting back up in surprise, she was almost too stunned to answer. Hadn't she already wondered what it would be like dozens and dozens of times? And he'd asked her, he hadn't just done it. He'd stopped himself, even. It felt like her chest was going to burst. She wanted to know what it was like to be kissed by him, what it was like to kiss him back.
"Yes."
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Before she even answered, he could see the way her body shifted, back arching, head tilting back some as his lips moved down toward hers, and her eyes slid away from his as he paused, only to snap back up when he spoke. Her soft, one word permission was more than enough for him, and he closed that final gap, finally kissing Charlotte, finally kissing the girl he'd always wanted to kiss most.
His lips moved softly on hers, just gently parted, a hot, slow kiss with no hunger or aggression behind it. It was gentle and sweet and caring, but with sensually sexual burn to it. He groaned softly against her mouth, letting himself delight in her as the pleasure built, her body and the slow, gentle thrusts into her tight wetness causing him to climb further and further, approaching the peak of ultimate pleasure.
Her body pressed up against his, soft curves against hard lines, molding into him, and he truly believed that she fit him perfectly.
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Just a single, small inhale was all she managed before Max pressed his lips against her. She was ready, every instinct in her body moving her mouth against his, her eyelids already fluttered to a close. So this was the taste of Maximilian Trevaine. A groan of her own echoed quickly after his, her body arching up flush against him. She moved with him now, her fingers still tangled in his hair near the back of his head.
She could feel all of him, truly all of him now. The pleasure tightened, intensified, and this time Charlotte knew what was coming. For just a moment, just that moment, she let herself go. She let all of the trauma of being stolen away from her bed, her parents, her life, fade away and instead let herself be with him in the way she'd always wondered about. Kissing him until she had no breath left, she broke contact when she reached her peak again.
Her lips brushed against his as she sucked in a sharp breath, a small cry leaving her as she came, squeezing around him tighter than ever. Her body trembled under his, her head rolling back and pressing into the bed. Finally, his name burst from her again before finally the orgasm began to ebb away, releasing her.
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That kiss was delightful, delicious, wonderful. He'd wanted to kiss her for years and now he was, her lips on his, slow, hot, sensual. And then, after a long, lovely kiss, his lips brushed away from his, a cry of pleasure leaving her as she came again, her body tightening more than ever around him, and he let out a loud groan. Her head tilted back and his name came from her lips, and he moaned.
His pleasure was driven over the edge by her crying out for him, and one final thrust pushed deep into her as he pulsed. Shuddering slightly, a low groan of pleasure from his throat, his orgasm burst into her, hot, thick and warm. His lips brushed over hers, his breath hot as he breathed heavily. "God, Charlotte... god..." He panted, and planted soft little kisses down her jaw and neck, hips slowly coming to s halt, his cock still deep inside her as he held her close, gentle little kisses.
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Her hands pressed against his back, holding him as he shook above her. She gasped as he thrust deep into her, surprised by the warm sensation he filled her with as he came. The sound of him, his mouth near her ear, was everything. Still breathless, she turned her face into his as he came down, their lips brushing.
It had been a whirlwind of new sensations. His mouth peppered kisses down her jaw and her eyes looked up at the ceiling as her mind began processing. Unfortunately, reality had to return for them now. Charlotte blinked rapidly, so suddenly aware of how warm his body felt pressed down on hers, how hot and full of him she was.
Slowly her arms shifted to unwrap themselves from him, her hands gingerly resting on his shoulders. If she didn't withdraw a little, she'd become an emotional mess--and even she wasn't sure what that meant, the entire situation was so complicated.
"...What happens now?" She asked quietly, curious and desperate to keep things moving. The sun was at the ending stage of rising, and it was still very early in the morning.
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