The Queen's Bedchamber

He smiled beneath their kiss and rolled atop her, holding her gently he peered down at her. Her hair had grown lighter in the summer, it shone like spun gold - threads glinting and rolling about her flushed face. He lowered himself carefully and kissed her tenderly. First her jaw and then her neck, he could smell that familiar scent of her perfume: roses and lavender. He moved to her lips where he could taste honey. He groaned impatiently and tipped his forehead against hers. He wondered how long they would have to wait. His needs were met and greatly satisfied by Mary yet he had never kept his bed cold for long before her and it occurred to him, to question when exactly he would be able to possess her fully again. He kissed her forehead, with the affection of a devoted husband.

“How is he?” James asked and rolled over, lolling his arm out and wrapping it around her.

I share the same frustration as you do. ~ She reassured him as her hands cupped his handsome face. The tip of her nose brushed gently against his cheek as her lips rested against the corner of his lips. Did he find her boring without the usual morning romp to satisfy both of them? Coming to think of it what did they have in common asides from this... Mary loved him more than was physically possible. It was never planned, but she thought that maybe James was her equal. An understanding between them both that no other could understand. This would be the first Autumn that they would be spending together. Such fun festivities and frolics to be had with each other! It was never cold enough in France for the lake's to freeze over completely. There were no winter stalls selling spices goods and mulled wine to warm the coldest of hands. Just rain and soggy leafs days spent in dark drawing rooms. Never going to far as afraid to catch a chill.

Do I bore you James... Is that why you withdraw yourself from me.

“No, love, not frustration,,” he soothed and tucked a tendril of her soft hair behind her ear. She was a beauty, the kind that would never fade. The kind of beauty that soothed him and stirred him all at once, she could inspire the love and loyalty of millions just with one smile and yet here he had her with him. His love, his wife, his queen. He wondered how it could be that once he had been so afraid to touch her and felt so unworthy of even her touch and yet now they had a son. She was his and his heart had never felt so content, “Impatience is all. I never really have to wait…”

He paused and caught her gaze with a mischievous look in his eye, “It might perhaps,” he continued, “Be as if I need to court you and wait to have you in my bed. I’ll be a slave to your whims, satisfy your every want and desire,” he said and allowed himself to kiss her again with all the passion of a young man. They'd tumbled together, been stitched by their marriage and positions - bound further by lust and now their child. The physical separation they would both endure almost inspired a champion like loyalty to Mary in James, "The soldier must seduce the Queen," he whispered against her lip.

He rolled over to lie beside her, his touch still gentle and comforting on her, "I'll never tire of you. As long as I have breath, a ghràidh, my life and heart is yours," he took her little hand and placed it atop his warm, broad chest, "It's yours, Mary, no other's."

With the promising word's of what was to come Mary could already feel herself tingle in anticipation. She ran her fingers through his beard locking her lips a little tighter around his devouring the very soft touch of his lips. So you will be my knight and I your queen under your control. Then you had best leave my bed before the king returns.

Mary playfully pushed him away her fingers pressing deeply against his chest, trying to familiarize herself with him again. It was like they had spent a long period of time away from each other. He the soldier that had just returned home from war. She the wife who had dreamed waited, wondering when they would be reunited again. The intimacy of feeling him move so peacefully inside her like a dove flying after the rain clouds had parted. A tiny part of Mary felt bad that all she wanted from him was bodily pleasures scared of him coming to the realisation that they had nothing else in common. Perhaps this seduction would push away the insecurities that suddenly plagued Mary's mind. It was only now that Mary realised why men took a mistress to keep them satisfied until they're wife's had healed from childbirth.

James chuckled his usual deep and gravelled laugh as she pushed him away and yet her hand on his chest stirred him too. She touched the part were his shirt slouched into a deep v and rested her palm on the warmth of his bare flesh. He could not help himself, he pressed his lips against hers - fighting the passions inside him. His hand, tentatively traced the curve of her side as his lips yielded hers open. It were as if he had never known what it was to be inside her, had never had her touch and he craved it. His lips gently moved to her neck where he whispered playfully, "Might I meet my Queen later today then, pay her court...in private?"

He moved so his dark gaze could catch her eyes - bright and clear, "I cannot write sonnets, Your Majesty, I'm no poet...but I may bestow a gift or two."

Finally, he pushed himself away and kissed her forehead in the way perhaps husbands should while their wives are still in childbed, yet to be churched and have their child christened. James had never let tradition infringe upon his life when he became a man and he could not quite understand those of his friends who would not even see their wives for weeks after they had given birth. He had not even been on the hunt arranged after the birth. He had stayed near to Mary's door, with a lapdogs loyalty - enjoying only quiet suppers and drinks with his closest kin, "Do you have everything you need?" he asked and gathered both her hands into his, his thumb running over her soft hand, "Anything I can give to you?

Mary groaned her body feeling like it was being pulled back to James and to where his heart lay. The subtle way his fingers frolicked through her white French nightdress was enough to send Mary over the edge. She would have to learn how to control herself, she'd never been given any reason to behave whilst in his company. Mary misbehaved with James not caring where or when or whom may see them. Her leg began to trail up his her knee pressed deeply against his buttocks. You can come to me for supper and maybe dessert will be on the table. ~

After James had detached himself from Mary she sat up doing up her nightgown that she had undone. She smoothed down the creases wrapping the blankets around herself as she knew that James would part with Mary for the day. How boring laying in bed for stupid amounts of days being deprived of her beloved James.You're all I need but you have piqued this Queens interest as to what gifts you may bestow unto your Queen.

James smirked at her playful suggestion, ruffling his hands through his hair - moving it away from his dark eyes, “I think my hunger will be quite unsatisfied for a while,” he teased.

He didn’t quite know when he would be able to come to her bed again. Probably weeks, he thought, at least. Had he ever had weeks or perhaps even months with no one to come to him at night? Perhaps not since he was a boy. Yet, he had never known love like he had for Mary - never know the devotion and fierce protective urge that he felt for her. If she made him wait years, he would probably yearn in torment until she yielded to him. There was a way about Mary that had captured his heart from the moment he met her. He loved her entirely.

As she gathered the blankets around her, she looked regal, covering her plump and soft body. It were as if she was preparing to receive visitors as a Queen and not lie around with her husband. James was glad of it - he didn’t have to focus so much on not succumbing to his lust.

“I have a few presents for you. It is the least I can give after you have given me the greatest gift of all,” he said with a boyish grin, tying the laces at the neck of his shirt loosely, “And our son…is he well?"

Mary playfully whined as he did the laces of his shirt back up. There was no need to be clothed whilst they were alone together. Throwing caution to the wind with a grin as wicked as sin Mary stood before her husband letting the nightgown slide down her creamy rose tinted skin. Not ready to be had, just yet, she perched herself on his lap rather skillfully while her lips touched his neck. Breathing in his masculine smell that made Mary's eyes look wild like. Just as fast as she had thought about it Mary undid his shirt running her hands down to where his braces clipped on only to ping them off. I just need to feel you touch me again. Like you did before our son was born.~

Mary whispered with an agitated plea hidden deep in her voice. She no longer felt like the sexual goddess that Mary once was. A mother was how people would now regard her even her own husband. He looks just like you my love. Big eye's taking everything in all the ladies swooning over him. Is their anyone you know who we could trust to be his Nanny.

James growled as she let her gown slip over her shoulders. She was different. Her hair was lighter after the summer, James almost thought it was longer. It spilled past her tanned shoulder blades and ended with a cluster of curls around her breasts which were plumper. Her body was rounded, and the soft curves hardened him beneath his trousers, “Mary,” he moaned as she settled on his lap. There was a newness about her in that moment. He hadn’t known her as she was with him then, he wanted to feel how it felt to be in her again and have her be his.

He flipped her hair behind her back, wrapping his muscular arms around her waist as his lips - hungry and warm - found her neck, “Mary, I want you and I can’t control myself when you are like this,” he moaned against her warm skin.

He was at once distracted by any talk of their son. He knew he was well, that he was strong and guarded day and night. That information would barely satisfy him normally but he was too distracted by Mary to let his mind be filled with anything else.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled absent mindedly and cupped her breast, his tongue tracing delicious trails to her rose bud nipples which he eventually kissed and suckled - moaning beneath his breath, “Perhaps one of your ladies in waiting or the minor nobles."

Then stop me

Mary whispered as she thrust her head back, letting out the most loudest of groans that she felt had been kept in for a century. It was like Mary was a Greek Oracle being worshiped by the lips of a man. Her body shook against James's body all her feelings stirring inside of her like an unsteady wave eager to reach the shore. She hissed as he wrapped his lips around her nipples taking hold of his neck. Mary pushed him back so that only she could dominate this situation. Her eyes turned dark, sinful almost as her fingers pressed hard against his neck slowly trailing down to his v shaped shirt. Taking the shirt in her fingers Mary ripped it open still looking at him with a playful serious tone.

He hated himself for wanting her as much as he did: for being weak and powerless to his own desires and lust. He could not stop the heavy pulse beneath his breeches, the longing to touch every part of her, to feel her writhe beneath him and hear her whisper as she came - softly, gently, quivering - in his strong arms. He had not known her bed for last months of her pregnancy, they had only kissed - the longing type as if they were two young children in love and with idea how to use it. He had imagined her in all sorts of ways when he could not have her and in every imaging she had the look in her eye which she had in that moment. Dangerous, passionate - in control. She was no longer the innocent girl upon the glen, she was his woman who wielded her power over James with such ease.

“Mary,” he groaned and shut his eyes tightly, “Oh Christ Mary, I want you...but I won't be able to stop if we go on,” he breathed and finally looked up to her. He held her hand at the opening of his shirt, keeping it at his heart but stopping her from moving it any lower. Their love was no longer enough, he had to consummate it but he had to be sure that she was ready, that she would not hurt. He could not hurt her. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips, gaining a moment of calm, “Love, if we do…you must tell me to stop if I hurt you, you must force me to be as you need,” he said and there was an innocence in his eyes - a genuine care for her safety that would always supersede any emotions - even his blazing passions.

Oh my darling you could never hurt me.

Having said that Mary didn't trust herself to stop if the slightest of pain did occur. With a heavy and somewhat defeated sigh Mary rested her head against his chest. Her teeth slightly nipping at his skin as her hands came to rest on either side of his hips. It was slightly naive of Mary both herself and James were never gentle when being intimate. That was just how they were together and she did not want to be slow. However thing's had changed James was a much more loving man since Mary was in his life. He cared for her every comfort as though whatever hurt Mary then hurt him. I won't deceive you even if it did hurt I wouldn't let you stop.

“You must,” he breathed, the tone of command in his voice and kissed her forehead which rested so tenderly against his chest. It was too late for James anyway, he was too far gone - to deep. Already he had prized her from his lap and was settling her onto the bed, letting her lie before him. Warm, pure and tempting. He couldn’t see beyond her or that moment. He was consumed. He was trapped between longing and care. He craved ecstasy, the blissful release of being in her and yet he knew she was still tender, still fragile and he knew he would have to move slowly. He peeled away his shirt, revealing his strong chest - tanned from the summer, his scars darkened by the sun.

He moved near to her and let the back of his hand trace from her knee to her thigh, over her hip bone and stomach which was still rounded. He moved to her chest, lingered at her breasts and finally reached her cheek, “I’ll be as gentle as I can,” he said and unlaced his breeches. Finally he moved himself above her and stroked the inside of her thighs - opening her to him. She would yield like a flower, perhaps shyly at first but then beautifully bloom. Holding himself then - hard - he hesitated at her sex and finally eased himself in.

I gasped for breath, trying to adjust to his length and the swollen heated flesh that pushed through my petals like a piercing thorn. I could feel my bud ache with excitement my nipples hard as goosebumps had covered my skin. With one hand resting on his arm I pulled his lips to mine groaning against his mouth as I kissed him as if I was drinking from a fountain. As I lay beneath him my thick eyelashes flickering against my eyelids. I pushed my hips against him gently at first each movement I made came a sharp low murmured hissing sound.

James let out a deep, low groan and did not move for a few moments. He stayed in her, feeling her contract around him - a gratifying little quiver which for some reason he did not expect. It was barely any different than before. Most changed was how slow he was, how still and calm it was. In a way, it was like lying with a woman for the first time. He'd never known Mary in that way after the birth, nor had she had him in her.

He ached for her and his body urged him to pin her against the bed and be as he usually was. Yet, he couldn't - partly because he had almost forgotten just how good it felt to be in her and he was concentrating on not succumbing to his lust. Her body, supple and soft and close to him made him short of breath. His hands held onto her, bringing her close to him as he kissed her ardently - thrusting into her again, this time deeper.

Mary spread her legs a little wider her hands pushing him that deeper inside. She could feel her heavy bud pressed against his bulging cock each thrust sent her body soaring. Mary cried out his name over and over a praise that her lion was pleasing her. Her mind was elsewhere, focusing solely on what her body was feeling. James intoxicated Mary the feel of his flesh rubbing against hers the faint movements of her breasts moving against his gracefully. The calm before the storm... Grabbing hold of his neck Mary looked up at him with satisfaction dancing in her eye's as she watched his facial expressions change. The way his top lip curled when a sudden burst ran through his body, causing his cock to throb until his release would come.

He swore beneath his breath as he finally began to move more consistently, measured and deep thrusts while his lips pressed against her's - muffling the moans which slipped from his lips. He was home again. Their was a rightness to their reunion, she knew what he would do and could anticipate his movements. The familiar sweet sound of her whispers sent a caress of shivers over his back. Hungry, invigorated by passion, he cupped her swollen breasts and bestowed upon her heavy, warm kisses. He eventually started to move faster, satisfied that she was feeling as much pleasure as he was.

He had wondered, during the time they had not shared a bed, if it would ever feel the same: if the lust and hunger he felt was truly for Mary or just for pleasure. There had never been a woman he loved so consistently as he did Mary and he thought perhaps this had been the initial burning excitement of their relationship. Yet, being with her again was the greatest pleasure he had known. He wanted to have her for all time; at his side, in his bed - her kind and warm smile never far from sight.

Harder

She begged, trying to catch her breath as she moved her hips just as fast as James began to thrust. Letting go of his body Mary grabbed hold of the bed sheets her head tossing from side to side. The only thing Mary could concentrate on was the length of him going in and out inside of her. Each time a little harder always leaving her full. The second was his breath James breathed heavily against her neck as though it was covering her body in thick cream.  If their sex could be a scent it would be Jasmine as it always smelled like seduction and mysterious nights of untold pleasures. James... Oh James.

James growled ferociously. Before he was too hungry, too clumsy for tenderness but he had developed a rein on his lust and wielded it with familiar dexterity. His utter gentleness was not tentative; rather, it was a promise of power - leashed. He took her then in a fierce, urgent silence - his movements not his own. He was driven by a compulsion that he had to obey. James had never in his life taken a woman in his arms without some feeling of love, but there was something more than love in this encounter. There was some tenderness for Mary's condition, but above all, there was the magnitude of lust, a need that clawed at his vitals and made him ashamed of his own manhood, even as he acknowledged its power. His cock, hard and determined throbbed and he could feel the heaviness and bliss of it all and he knew that soon he would come. He moved one hand to her clit and carefully, tenderly, teased it with his fingers.

James was as wild as an animal that lusted after blood. The more strength he put into his thrusts Mary felt her body being jolted her head being pushed down further into the bed. Her thighs stinging as flesh was being slapped against flesh. Raising her hands above her head Mary grabbed onto the headboard watching James breaking her in as though she was a wild hip. Her bud was aching, ready to burst open, letting the sweet flow of nectar run free.

James had slowed his pace again, moving passionately and slowly to prolong their pleasure. It had been too long and he did not want it to end in a flurry and so he held her close and continued to thrust into her. His warm lips caressed the curve of her neck, where she always smelled of honey and lavender - the familiar perfume which now always smelled of home to him. He had grown quiet, his breath heavy, as his pleasure crept closer and closer to climax. It came to him slowly - at first crawling over him and then jolting him. He thrust into her quicker, frantic and let out a deep balmy moan as he released himself in her. He swore - again - under his breath, feeling filled with immense satisfaction.

Mary never wanted this feeling to end of having her husband moving so deeply inside her. It was not a sensation you experienced everyday it was a feeling that made her toes curl leaving Mary with a radiant smile for days afterwards. She could cry from the pain and joy that she was feeling James was different more viscous yet still loving.Mary was left feeling high her climax still hanging in the air. There was something forbidden that she dared to even think of doing with James. Would he even like experimenting in the bedroom? Pulling out his fingers that had been tickling her clit Mary placed them in her mouth, sucking off the nectar that engulfed them.

He stayed in her for a moment, his mouth pressed against her chest, his breath spilling upon her warm skin. Finally he eased himself out of her and rolled to her side with a sigh. The corners of his lips turned up into a satisfied smile as he lolled one arm above his head, the other he wrapped around her. He was too tired, too content to care that the sheets were beneath them and not covering their bodies - glistening and glowing with sweat and the rays of sun coming through her window. He shut his eyes and caught his breath, "I missed you," he breathed mischievously.

I thought that you would find me less desirable. ~

I feel less desirable Mary mutters under her breath as she moved down the bed. She could feel how hot her flower was the inside of her legs still stung like a stinging nettle. Without warning Mary wrapped her lips around his cock as her tongue tried to run the length of him. She moaned at the taste of him a foreign taste was neither pleasant or unpleasant.

“How could I?” he asked genuinely, his voice coming out gravelly as it so often was in the mornings. James dipped his head down to look at her and said with such honest affection, “Look at you, Mary, you’re beautiful.”

He meant it. He had known women in court - great beauties who had fallen pregnant and glowed with pride to hold their rounded bellies at court, display how virile their husband was and what a capable wife they were. They returned grey, their shine gone. Their child had consumed all that was good and bright about them and they would soon be abandoned by their husbands. He had wondered when Mary was pregnant if she would be one such woman. Mary was strong, he’d never known a stronger woman with such courage and endurance - she had barely changed.

As she took him into her mouth - tender but still standing - he hissed and looked down at her. He brushed her hair, long and golden, away from her face and looked down at her with an amused grin, “What’s this for?” he asked with a chuckle.