The Dragon's Arranged Mate(6)

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?