Auchlyne Hunting Lodge

Oh, god. Mary needed James more than he knew. Sensations flood her brain as the pressure builds and the release is near. Breathing hard and moaning wildly, Mary continued thrusting hard against him faster and faster until She can no longer hold off. It happened like two thunder clouds crashing together in a blindingly delightful orgasm that cleanses her mind and body.

James stayed in her as he felt her sex quiver around his cock, contracting and becoming warm with sweet nectar. He tipped his forehead against her’s, feeling her honey breath upon his nose, releasing her hands from his strong hold.

Instead he continued to thrust into her however more gently, slowly. Cupping her flushed cheeks in her hands, he became rather quiet as he could feel his release crawl upon him. He did not speak or even groan, only his warm and deep breaths could be heard. Finally, closing his eyes, he released himself and then - finally then - let out a dark, husky groan.

He fell upon her breast and caught his breath again, gently easing himself from her soft folds. James tenderly kissed her pert breast, plump and blushing, allowing his bright flash of a grin to spread across his face.

It still caught Mary by surprise the feel of him coming. Although she had grown to love the art of making love Mary couldn't help but to become shy. The touch of his moustache caused a fit of exhausted giggles filled the room. Rolling onto her belly Mary slapped her hand across his tanned buttocks as if she was kneading dough. She had yet to figure out if she tamed his passions or just left him even more wired.

So do you plan to keep me here for the night or must we head back to the palace. ~ She just wanted to be just a wife for a couple more hours without people demanding the attention of James. Mary couldn't blame them James possessed such a stunning beauty that suited his personality well. It was his secrets that Mary now wanted to know...

James chuckled as she rolled away from him, her hand scolding him as she did. He theatrically winced and glanced over to Mary with a playful wink, “It’s treason to harm the king,” he joked.

James doubted he would ever tire of having her lying beside him, just being still at his side. When she lay during the night, delicate and soft at in his arms, her breath steady and hand on his chest - he felt true contentment. He would imagine that they were in some little house somewhere that was not the palace, that their son was at the foot of the bed and not guarded in the nursery. Mary had given him what he never had - a home. Indeed, since the birth of their son, he and Mary became bound by something stronger than passion. In spite of all which might come their way, he knew that he would always find a refuge in her.

“I plan to keep you here forever,” he mumbled as he smirked to himself, lying face down upon the white sheet with a satisfied sigh.

Moving to his side Mary licked the droplets of sweat that trickled down his skin. Leaving his body more glistening and alluring to the beholder's eye. If she was a good painter, she would paint his glorious body as it lay now before her in all its glory. Mary stood on the bed looking outside the fog still lurking as thick as clouds. Pressing her nose against the glass Mary squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of her boat. Mary crashed back on the bed with a heavy thump too excited to behave or sleep. Very cheekily she brought her lips to James buttocks nipping him gently. They were like the ripest pair of peaches tempting Mary to have a taste.

Then I will do more acts of treason until you give in to my every command. I want to christen my ship in a new fashion one that only you and I will know of.~ She whispered sultrily before slapping his buttocks again. Mary planned to try and halt the trip to France. She selfishly wanted a Yuletide in Scotland with James and Jamie.

James growled playfully and rolled over with a grin on his lips, his dark hair rolling in a curl over his darker eyes. He stretched over the bed with a deep moan, his feet hanging over the end of the bed. He would be perfectly happy, perhaps too happy, to lie as he was and have her work her feminine wiles over him. He relished her teeth biting into his flesh, the lustful dance between pain and pleasure. Eventually he rolled over, rubbing his brow as he did and finally held his hands behind his head.

“A French tradition, I assume?” he marked teasingly and winked at Mary again, carelessly throwing a sheet over his lower half. For a moment his mind became distracted by their own son's baptism. They had left it long enough and he wanted the safety of knowing that Jamie would be divinely blessed over the winter. He would bring it up with Mary, James decided, it would have to be done soon.

That is not true I never had lessons in pleasing a man. Everything that happens between us is because you inspire me.~ Deep inside her Mary still burned of a certain pleasure that had yet to be fulfilled. If she was any other woman then they would both of done what she truly wanted. She was too embarrassed to ask that of him. Oh, how she ached to feel his tongue within her womanly folds again a never burning flame that ceased to diminish.

The piercing crackles coming from the fire were enough to tell Mary that it was time to head back to see young Jamie. Who would soon be presented to the entire court for all to admire. His christening gown was made already sent from France it was a miniature version of one of Mary's gowns. Golden and regal. The christening gown would be kept so that when other children would come they could all wear it.

Pulling on her stockings as her greasy hair tumbled down her arm. Mary did wonder just who on earth would be godparents. My love who shall be the godparents to our son? I would like him to benefit from them and to be a permanent fixture in his life.

"Why...have you thought of anyone?"

James remained lying on the bed, taking up most of the space. He watched her with a curious fascination, a proud smirk glowing upon his face as he watch her pull on the stockings. The pale material rolling past her knees and settling at her thigh, where he immediately imagined burying his face again. He bit his lip and contained his thoughts.

Part of him could not help but delight in how she became when they were together. Even as she was in that moment, unclothed and gleaming, there was a certain poise to her. Yet, when he was in her and she scratched him, she became someone different altogether. She could calm him and ignite his passions all at once. Regardless, he would always find his sanctuary with Mary.

“I mentioned it to Royce. He’s a Duke and that will appease the nobles, yet he can fight and would protect Jamie so that shall appease me,” he said casually and yawned. James’ godparents, although he had four, had never spent any time with him during his childhood. It was only during his latently claimed right to rule that they had appeared. James had considered Thomas as a godparent, indeed he could think of none better than his greatest friend and confidant, however he had no peerage. Unless…

James sat up and collected his breeches from the floor, distracted by his thoughts. It could be done…perhaps with a little difficultly but Thomas deserved it more than most. How high could he raise him…would he accept?

Mary wasn't too sure as to whom Royce was as he did not attend her coronation. If all the godparents were to be Scottish than it would help smooth the anger some still felt at having a French Queen. Her mother Mary had most wanted as a godmother to guide her with parental duties. But James did not take too well with his mother in law.

Mary glanced over at James as he suddenly jumped out of bed. It was a tricky situation her mother didn't feel welcome in Scotland and James thought that she didn't like him. Perhaps the love they had for Mary could lead them to all sit down together over supper.

My mother is still in Scotland maybe we can all gather together like civil adults. It would mean a lot to me, but I shall not force the subject anymore. Think about it maybe...

James sighed and loosely tied the laces of his breeches, having to duck down so that his head did not graze against the ceiling and tall wooden beams. He glanced over to Mary and scratched his chin, “Of course, love, if it’s what you wish.”

He didn't think much of how he and Antoinette got along. As far as he was concerned, she was French - in every way - that explained their caustic relationship to him. Her countenance, mannerisms and thoughts were all what he expected from Mary. Yet, he had been so pleasantly surprised by her, so enamoured with her personality, which was entirely her own, that he often forgot where she had come from. To be sure, he would anything that Mary made him promise - as all men in love did.

I love you even more for being cooperative. You could do what other men do hide from their in laws and moan about them amongst friends. Yet you don't I am lucky to have you as my husband.~

Mary went to his side a part of her wanted to lure him back into bed. Only let him leave when they were both exhausted of one another. Stretching to stand on the tips of her toes, Mary managed to lock her lips with his. Only for her body to sway gently. She had lost herself in this kiss his lips were like a guarded wall one that Mary was all too eager to knock down.

James chuckled and retrieved his shirt from the floor, throwing it over his head as she spoke, “Well you don’t see me with my friends,” he teased and rolled up the sleeves of the shirt. It was an older one, one he’d worn before he’d even met Mary and he wondered how much remained of his old life. He was a husband, a father and it occurred to him to question if he could ever be just himself again. He told himself to make the effort that evening and take a barrel of ale to his friends, it had been too long since he had been drunk and sore from laughter.

“I don’t dislike her, she’s your mother, she gave me you…she is just very French and I am very Scottish. Our alliance can only go so far.”

He cleared his throat and leaned against the bedpost. James had always wanted to involve Mary in matters of state, it had just happened that she had fallen with child so soon that there had never been the time. He’d already started considered plans for their son and he didn’t want to get into the habit of keeping things for her, “Speaking of alliances…what do you think of an Italian one…for Jamie?”

Although he teased it had crossed Mary's mind why she had never met any of his friends. The answer was simple she wasn't part of his life away from the court and she would never be apart of it. It did not bother Mary in a matter of words, if James wanted a private life away from the palace then such is life. But where would Mary get to have a private life away from her husband perhaps France. Would she be allowed to go back and visit her siblings without him. The only person Mary had while living in Scotland was her mother. My mother is all I have left of France. We have been through so much together a whole life before I even heard of you. You think you know me, but you do not.

Unsure as to why his words had provoked such a feeling of anger and bitterness in Mary. She remained silent for a while the once rosy cheeks now drained as a lump was caught in her throat. He had a life that Mary wasn't allowed to be a part of. It hurt like an iced dagger cutting through her skin chilling the her very blood. Our alliance with France can go very far James if you only seek to think out of the box. But I am not that educated in alliances, perhaps tell me about your plans when we are back at the palace. I would of preferred a Spanish alliance if we had a daughter, she could of married a Bavarian Prince.

James raised his eyebrow at her comment. He was aware of her childhood more than she was of his, indeed, he was given chronicles of her formative years when he reached early teenage years. Yet he had scarcely discussed with Mary his few happy years of freedom before her or the long days of his imprisonment as a child.

If they attended mass together then she would have discovered that James’ confessor was the monk who counselled him as a boy and advised him when he first was coronated. If his friends lived in court and not the garrison or villages around the palace, she may come to like them.

It struck James that she was right. They knew each other’s bodies well enough but the intricacies of their hearts were still a mystery. He felt so entirely at ease with Mary, so completely at home - from their first meeting - that he had not stopped to wonder if she had felt the same. He was protective of her, loved her earnestly and would defend her at all costs…however he had ignored her life before him.

“I didn’t have to court you,” he offered deeply and ran his hand through his hair, “Not really. You were told of me and I you before we even met…I don’t suppose I ever took the time to ask.”

She had her back to him, and he knew her well enough to know that she did this when he had displeased her. He perched on the bed and tilted his head to the side, “We seem to live our lives in reverse. We are married and already have a son before we know each other.”

Then, with a quick thought, his bright smirk formed upon his lips, “Mary I promise I shall remedy this,” he said, his voice gruff. He stood up and paced over to her, “Let me take you home.”

Mary didn't understand exactly what he meant by "I didn't have to court you." It was hardly a courtship. Had Mary just been dreaming that their marriage would last. She placed her hands in her lap refusing to make eye contact with James for the time being. It was strange Mary could not even remember what had started this little rift.

Yes, she was completely opposite to James always an open page to him should he ever feel the need to rummage through her pages. He always reserved keeping himself to himself, leaving Mary to wonder what he was hiding. I gave you my mind so freely. Going home would do us both some good. Maybe you can take some time to think if I am really the woman you wish to stay married to.

James sighed and rubbed his dark brow, his gaze averting to the floor in quiet confusion and exasperation. He’d never been used to much post coital talk - even with Mary - and so their present situation was all the more unusual. James did not know how argue just as a man, only as King - even then it was uncomfortable and tiresome. His whole childhood had been squabbles and fights, his earliest youth was a long drawn out battle and he had learned that the greatest way to survive it was an even temper. There was never the fun nor artistry in a verbal fight - the only clash he loved to hear was that of swords, metal against metal and the adrenaline beating in his ears.

“Of course I want to have you be my wife,” he muttered darkly and retrieved his boots, kicking his feet into the supple leather. He glanced over his shoulder as he collected his overcoat and shrugged into it, “I love you but I won’t argue with you, a ghràidh,” still - in the midst of their quarrel - absent mindedly calling her by her little pet name.

“Do you want to walk back with me or do you wish to be alone?” he said and stood by the door. He still planned to remedy their situation, yet he refused to allude to how - he would see her smile again.

If Mary knew how to use a sword, then she could fight out her frustrations that now occurred between them both. Afterwards they would be able to make up as if no words that were said to cause no harm. Alas, Mary was not a Scottish woman she could not use a sword, shoot arrows to catch meat or swear in Gallic. Let me stay here so I can cool my tempered tongue.

James nodded and as he put on his hat, automatically replied, “I’ll send out a guard.”

Turning his back on her, he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of what he had planned. He knew that his honest nature would deceive him if he looked at her and his smile would spread into a bright grin. As such, he faced away and called casually over his shoulder, “I have a council meeting tonight, to make plans for the winter. It may take a while.”

It was a lie yet far from a malicious one. Indeed he had been prepared for winter since July. Ever since Mary arrived, he had set aside special food supplies for her - had ships import French delicacies and trinkets that may appease her, commissioned fur robes and throws to fill her chambers... His premature plans were given yet more fuel after Jamie was born. The summer’s crop had been good and the royal purse was full, if God was on their side they would emerge from the winter safe.

He wouldn’t reveal his plan just yet. After his months among the people, pretending to be a commoner, he had developed a mischievous tendency for the theatrical. So, as he unlatched the heavy wooden door he simply said - as a force of habit, “Be safe.”

Love you to Mary called out to the empty little lodge. She never imagined that she would come to love this love nest big enough for just a mouse to live in. In most marriages a certain amount of land was normally given out to the husbands. As James was the king surely he could give land to anyone of his men. If it would be allowed and without causing a fiasco Mary desired a piece of land to build a place just like this one only bigger for her family.

What she most wanted was to be a mother without her every movement scrutinized and recorded. For now Mary kicked off her shoes embracing the feel of the cotton sheets against her skin. Despite having the bed all to herself, she stayed on her side, her fingers outlining the shape which James had left.

What had just happened between them it left Mary feeling rather puzzled. It was silly to even think, but a piece of her felt rejected by James but for what reason. Because he enjoyed the company of others when he needed a break from being king!