I spread her thighs apart to accommodate me, then swiped my hand through her slickness and coated my own dripping cock with her juices. I lined up the swollen head with her tight hole. She gasped and her hands flew down to my own wrists, trying to hold me back. But there was no holding me back now.
I took her hands in my own and pinned them to the bed, above her head. "I must have you," I growled.
"Please … please be gentle with me," she whimpered, and that small part of myself that wasn't being overtaken by the dragon heard her words.
"I will try … at first," I grunted, raspy. She closed her eyes and steeled herself, and I pushed forward.
At first there was a resistance, and she cried out in pain. "A little more," I growled, then pressed further forward and felt the resistance give way. Her eyes flew open, and I saw pain mixed with fear there.
I waited a moment, then pulled back and thrust forward again. She whimpered. Again … and again … I pulled back and pushed myself into her warm, tight canal. I hardly noticed the tears on her cheeks.
I tightened my grip on her wrists, then plunged ahead heedlessly. My need was too strong to hold back any further. I began pumping my throbbing cock into her, riding her. Owning her. Possessing her.
She began to moan again, more out of pleasure now. I released her wrists, and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Her legs wrapped around my thighs and ass, and I roared inside at her reaction. She was mine. Flames flowed through my veins, intoxicating me. My nerves were on fire.
Eventually our moans grew louder and mingled together as I approached my release. I pounded myself into her now, my balls slapping against her ass.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried, matching my thrusts. Her cries brought me to the peak, and I felt myself explode. I threw my head back and roared, filling the room with my triumphant climax just as I filled her with my hot seed.
Within moments it was over, and I slid out of her, then rolled over onto my back beside her. We both lay there, catching our breath.
Once I returned to my senses, I glanced at the area of the bed between her thighs. There was the bloody proof that would be required; our marriage was legally consummated, without a doubt.
I wondered what she was thinking. Now that the dragon was finally quieted for now, my senses had returned to me. I hoped she wouldn't feel that I had used her too harshly.
I looked at her, and she turned her head from me. I took her chin and gently turned it back toward my own. "What is it?" I whispered, caressing her.
"I'm ashamed," she said. "Embarrassed at myself."
I couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped my throat. "My wife, my queen," I murmured. "Your pleasure was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Your body is glorious, and watching you enjoy it while I helped you … it was a joy. You are a joy to me."
She smiled slightly. "Will it always … hurt, at first?" I shook my head. "I don't think so," I told her. "I think that after the first time or two, there is only pleasure."
She blushed. "It did feel nice, toward the end. Not the same as … before … with your hand … " She blushed deeper. "But it still felt good. Did I … please you?"
I chuckled again, and drew her into my arms. I laughed into her sweat-dampened curls. "I don't think there's a person in the palace or the surrounding area that doesn't know how much you pleased me, my wife. A dragon's roar is hard to miss."
I heard that tinkling laugh against my shoulder. "Yes, you were rather … loud." She giggled again.
"Not much louder than you, dear," I whispered, and we laughed together.
She pulled away from me slightly, to meet my eyes with her own. "There was something … thrilling … about giving myself over to the dragon," she whispered. There was a wicked gleam in her emerald eyes. "I felt your power, and I wanted to be consumed by it. Is that … strange?"
Had I not been so very tired my cock would have stirred again at her words. Instead, I simply ran a hand over her red hair, feeling a rush of affection for her.
"It's not strange. No more strange that the way I like the feeling of allowing the dragon to take over," I told her.
It had been a long, long day and we were both totally spent; it was no surprise, then, that we fell asleep in each other's arms within moments. There was already light in the sky by the time I closed my eyes.
CHAPTER THREE
Within only a few hours of our slumber, the door to the chamber flew open. I groaned, feeling tired and bad-tempered. But I knew this was part of the tradition, as much as anything else.
Anabelle desperately reached for something with which to cover her nakedness; we had slept uncovered, and hadn't moved once from each other's arms. Her chambermaid was one of the first of many in the procession, and was thoughtful enough to hand her a dressing gown. I shielded her with my own body while she wrapped it around herself. I didn't care who saw me; I was King, after all, but I still had the insolent streak my mother had worried over since I was a small child.
Everyone, it seemed, was there. King Angus and his most highly-regarded clansmen (who, to their credit, did avert their eyes while Anabelle covered herself), my own mother, my guards, and my most trusted counselors. All were there to witness the presence of blood on our sheets; proof that we had consummated our marriage and that our union was complete.
"I almost don't see why you feel this necessary," I said, and raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you could all hear the goings-on as they progressed." Out of the corner of my eye, Anabelle blushed deeply. My own mother frowned at me, deep furrows appearing in her brow. I'd embarrassed my bride even further. Damn me. I reached for her hand and squeezed, trying to bolster her.
"You should know, King Caside, that mere – um, noises – don't qualify as solid proof," spoke Sir Donal, my most senior advisor. The dragon rankled, and I did my best to conceal my disdain. Donal was one of my father's advisors, not one of my own choosing, and he had the tendency to speak to me as though I was the village idiot instead of the King of County Cork.
"I know very well," I grumbled, then moved back the sheets Anabelle had used to cover herself and exposed the blood-stained bedding.
A huge smile broke out over Angus's face. "The deed is, then, done! You've the proof of my daughter's virginity on her marriage bed -" Anabelle blushed again and cast her eyes downward, "and the marriage is legally consummated. Our union is complete. And today, my daughter becomes Queen and takes her rightful place." His clansmen cheered, and I saw even more toasting in the near future. It amazed me to see them on their feet, much less boisterously cheering.
Rhiannon drew closer and took Anabelle's hand in her own. "I am so happy, my dear," she said quietly. I wished I could have seen evidence of her words in her eyes, but they were just as troubled as they had been the day before. I had hoped that once the vows were spoken and our wedding night passed she would release these foreboding thoughts and allow herself to feel truly happy. But this wasn't the case.
After that, nearly everyone left our chambers save Anabelle's chambermaids and servants; she had to be prepared for the coronation ceremony. I dressed and made a hasty exit; it looked as though I'd only be in the way there, and there were matters of business to be attended to.
I went to the kitchen first, feeling famished; normally my breakfast was served in my chambers, but with the excitement of yet another feast in the works, I knew better than to wait on service. While I was known for stubbornness and a wicked temper (as were all of the dragons before me), I was also criticized for allowing my own castle to be run in a lax manner. I didn't think it lax to be understanding. It was more important for everything to go off perfectly today than to be groveled to.
Besides … I enjoyed doing things my own way. To hell with those would say otherwise.
I walked into the massive kitchen with its high stone walls, the enormous hearth at one end blazing as breads and sweets were being pulled out to be replaced with unbaked versions. Geese and ducks were being plucked and cleaned; a pig was being butchered. Soups and stews were bubbling over another fire, and great piles of vegetables were being chopped.
I almost felt as though I were in the way, and so I slipped from one area to the next to gather a few things for my breakfast. I was practically unnoticed, so frantic was the nature of the preparations. I managed to steal a small loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese and an apple before I made my hasty exit. I laughed to myself as I strode down the long hall toward my chambers; was there another King of Ireland or anywhere who resorted to stealing his breakfast from his own kitchen while wearing a dressing gown?