Keys to the Kingdom

by Fiona Wilde

  The maids burst from the room, giggling and grinning at him as the exited the bedchamber. Silly things. He wondered why on earth the princesses tolerated their presence.

  "Fiona?" He called to her, aggravated that she'd yet to come out of the changing room.

  "I'm here," she said, and emerged. She wore a gown so white it reflected the pale luster of her skin. Her red hair hung like a flaming cloud around her shoulders. Never had Justin seen anything more beautiful.

  "You're so pretty," he said, and then felt silly for sounding like a smitten schoolboy. He was a husband; he was supposed to be guiding her on this night, not tripping over his tongue.

  "I expected you'd be in your nightshirt," she said.

  He looked down at his wedding attire.

  "The wife dresses for the husband," he said.

  She frowned. "And he sees no need to please her once he's taken her to the altar?"

  Justin smiled. "He pleases her in a different way," he said as he began to unbutton his shirt. The husband makes the woman lose herself in passion. He makes her mindless with desire.

  "He can try, I suppose," Fiona said. "But remember, the wife has won him as he has won her. She's not some dairymaid hoping to flatter him into setting her up as mistress. A wife is honest. Perhaps her husband fancies himself a wonderful lover when such is not the case."

  Justin wasn't smiling now. "My dear, I've had more than one woman leave my bed satisfied."

  "Are you sure?" Fiona asked with a wicked grin. I've heard some women can feign pleasure in such a way that the man is none the wiser. Later, in groups, they laugh at his arrogance."

  "And what would you know of good or bad, either way?" he asked. "You've had no experience in the matter."

  "And how would you know?" she asked coolly, folding her arms in front of her.

  Justin, who was working on undoing his pants, stopped.

  "That is no laughing matter," he said. "I expected you to be pure."

  "Really?" she asked. "Why do you deserve such when you admit to sullying yourself with more than one woman?"

  He looked down, ashamed. "It's differing for men," he said. "How else are we to guide you unless we know what to do?"

  "You think these things can't come naturally?" she asked, and walked over to him.

  "You may be leader, Justin, but never take me for granted or think that the rules you set for me to not apply to you. We may be married, but keeping my respect will mean more than just giving orders. I expect you to earn my obedience daily."

  He looked in her eyes. He did not like being lectured, but he knew she was right. What right did he have to question her chastity when he himself had admitted to having multiple lovers?

  "And how would I earn your obedience when you are always seeking to undermine me?' he asked.

  Fiona trailed her finger down his chest. "No whither and when," she said. "If I am fair, learn from it. If I am just trying to get my way then make sure I do not."

  Justin picked her up and carried her to the bed.

  "You expect me to read your mind," he said, putting her on the mattress and joining her there.

  "Do that later," Fiona purred. "For the moment I'd prefer to see if you can read a woman's body so well as you claim."

  Justin raised her gown and ran his hands up underneath. Her body was warm and supple. He ran the palms of his hands over her breasts. The nipples were tender and tight. He longed to feel them on his tongue. He pulled her gown over her head and his mouth descended and latched onto one of the rosy nubs. Fiona gasped and arched and his hands moved underneath to grasp her bottom. He kneaded the flesh of her backside softly at first, and when she encouraged him with a groan he squeezed harder as his teeth gently nibbled first one nipple and then the other.

  Fiona's skin flushed rosy with passion and her head thrashed from side to side. Justin parted her thighs with his hand and inserted to fingers inside of her. They slid easily past the red fleece of her womanhood and into her slickened passage until he encountered the obstacle of her maidenhead.

  "Easy," he told himself. "Gently now."

  He did not need her to tell him she was excited, or ready. He knew she was. Justin parted her thighs and positioned himself gently. He pushed slowly inside, murmuring words of love to her. She kissed him, her tongue darting into his mouth. His tongue fenced hers until he could stand it no more. He kissed her deeply, simultaneously plunging through her virgin barrier. Fiona's eyes widened but she did not cry out. Instead she wrapped her legs around him and worked her hips through the pain until there was nothing left but pleasure.

  When he collapsed on her, it was to the sound of gentle laughter.

  "Congratulations, sir," she said. "You read me well. Quite well, indeed."

  Angelica and Quentin: An honest beginning

  "Will you always love me?" Angelica looked into Quentin's eyes, searching them.

  "You know I will," he said, sliding her gown down over one shoulder. The bare skin underneath was creamy, tempting. He wanted to see more. But as he edged it lower she stopped him.

  "Aren't you curious?" she asked.

  "Eminently," he laughed. "But so far all I've seen is a shoulder."

  "Not about that," she said. "About whether I'll always love you? Or are carnal pleasures all that matter?"

  At the moment, carnal pleasures were all Quentin could think of.

  "Of course it matters whether you love me. And I know you do!"

  "How do you know?" she pressed, backing away. "You've never asked me."

  "You've told me," he said.

  "How do you know I was honest?"

  He looked at her, silent.

  "I do have a reputation, after all, for being less than truthful," she said.

  "If you did not love me, you would not have married me," he argued.

  She smiled. "That's not true. Women marry men for convenience all the time. And besides, do you really think I'd ruin my sisters' happiness by refusing you."

  Quentin sighed. He was in no mood for her games.

  "Angelica, what do you want?" he asked wearily.

  She cast her eyes down and worried her lip with her teeth as if in thought.

  "Perhaps I want you to make an honest woman of me. Perhaps I want to start our marriage off on the right foot."

  He tipped her chin up until she was looking at him.

  "I think you are right," he said. "Come here."

  He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her over his lap. She did not protest. Raising his hand, he brought it down hard on the center of her bum. She offered a little cry of protest.

  "Did that hurt?" he asked.

  "No," she said.

  He smacked her harder in the same spot.

  "Ow!"

  "And that?" he asked.

  "No."

  "You're lying," he said, and drew back his hand. This time he used significant force and she squealed.

  "Did that hurt?" he asked.

  "Not much!" she said, but it was between clenched teeth.

  He flipped her gown up and rubbed his hand over her rapidly reddening bottom before leveling three hard, stinging slaps on the bare skin.

  "Now?" he asked.

  "No!" He could hear tears in her voice.

  He spanked her harder now, and did not stop even when she began to cry in earnest.

  "All right! All right!" she cried.

  "All right?" he asked. "Are you admitting it, then? Does it hurt?"

  "Yes!" she cried.

  He smacked her again - hard - on the thigh. "Are you lying?"

  "No!" she cried.

  "Good," he said, pulling her up onto his lap until she was straddling him. "For every time you lie to me that is just what you'll get, only worse. Do you understand?"

  She nodded through her tears.

  "And now I have another question for you," he said. "Do you love me, Angelica?"

  She nodded, smiling through her tears. "Yes!"

  "Is that the truth?"

&n
bsp; Her answer was to kiss him passionately while pressing her lithe body against his.

  Quentin laid back, allowing her to straddle him until he could stand it no more. And then he flipped her over on her back. He looked down and saw the apprehension in her eyes.

  "Don't be afraid," he said. "I'll be gentle."

  "You swear?" she asked, her voice shaking.

  Quentin kissed the tip of her nose. "I swear."

  He took his time, kissing her tenderly, exploring her body with his mouth and hands until she was ready. Then he eased into her as slowly as he could stand, pushing through her maidenhead just when she was relaxed enough for his entry to be as painless as he could make it.

  "There it is, then," she said, smiling with relief.

  "Yes," he said. "And there it is."

  He began to move slowly and she caught his rhythm and moved with her. She cried out into his shoulder, he into her cloud of red hair. Afterwards they stayed locked in an embrace. Neither wanted to let the other go. They were honestly, and madly, in love.

  Ivan and Luna: The Playful Pair

  Luna had chosen a pink nightdress for her wedding night, even though her sisters had told her that white was more traditional.

  "My wedding dress is white," she said. "It's so serious. Pink is more playful."

  "There are some times when you need to put aside childish things and be serious for a change," Lenora had told her.

  Those words came back to her now as she sat on the bed waiting for Ivan's approach. He had stripped his shirt off and looked very handsome with is muscular arms and chest. Luna had seen half-naked men before but it had been a gardener working in the summer heat, not a prince. She thought Ivan put the gardener go shame.

  She bit her lip as he approached, trying not to laugh. He looked so serious. He was pulling back the covers now, his eyes locked on hers. He climbed in bed and jumped up as the hedgehog he sat on spiked and squealed.

  "What the...?" he said, jumping up, and Luna clapped her hands together and burst into a fit of giggles.

  "Is that your idea of a joke?" he asked as she rolled with laughter.

  "One of them," she said, wiping tears away as Ivan scowled.

  "It's our wedding night, Luna. It's hardly a time for games."

  Luna picked up the hedgehog and cuddled it.

  "You sound like my sisters," she pouted. Standing, she went and deposited the little animal in a box by the door. Turning back to her husband, she crossed her arms defiantly.

  "Besides," she said. "What's wrong with games and fun? I mean, after all, if this business of coupling is so serious, how can I expect to enjoy it? You know me well enough to know that things must be entertaining for me to enjoy them."

  "Hmm," said Ivan. "So it would seem, hence the trouble you cause, my little minx."

  He stood and walked to where she was, putting his arms around her.

  "And just what sort of games would you like to play?" he asked.

  "Hmm," she said. "How about make believe. I can be the naughty milkmaid and you can be the rich lord who catches me asleep in the hay..."

  "A milkmaid is it?" he asked, looking down at her snow white cleavage. "Hmm. Yes, I could see you as a milk maid, my dear. So tell me. Am I a forgiving lord, or am I a stern one?"

  "Oh," she said, looking serious. "To be sure you are a most stern lord and should teach me a strict lesson for sleeping when I'm supposed to be about my chores."

  Ivan smiled. Life with Luna would be nothing if not interesting.

  "Very well, my naughty milkmaid," he said. "Come with me."

  He took her to the bed and bent her over. He raised her nightdress, telling her in a mock stern voice to hold still when she cried out in protest. His hand gently roamed her firm bottom.

  "What a naughty lass," he said, spanking her gently on one cheek and then the other.

  "Why sir!" she cried dramatically. "I shall never again sleep when I am supposed to be working!"

  "I intend to see to that," he said. He spanked her some more, harder now. Luna giggled and squealed nervously.

  "Of course, the best way to teach you a lesson is to have my way with you," he said. "For a satisfied maid is a happy maid."

  "And are you man enough to satisfy me?" she asked.

  He slapped her bottom again, harder this time and she squealed with genuine pain.

  "That I am," he said, and taking her arm pulled her to him. "I can satisfy any maid, but the only one I want to satisfy is the princess in my arms."

  "Oh my," Luna said huskily. "It would appear that reality seems better than my game."

  "And it shall be," he said, pushing her down on the bed. She wound her arms around his neck, enjoying passionate kisses that started at her mouth and continued down until his face was buried between her legs and she cried out in a mixture of shame and ecstasy.

  When he was sure his new bride was beyond ready, he moved up and into her. Luna was so wet that his passage was easy and he broke through her maidenhead before she even realized it. Her legs went around him almost immediately. She was wild with passion and Ivan could not help but wonder if his brothers were so lucky as he. His mouth smothered her cries of passion as she rose up to meet his brutal thrusts.

  Afterwards they lay together in a heap of tangled bedclothes, breathing heavily. Luna was quiet and for a moment Ivan wondered if she was all right.

  "Wife?" he asked. "What are you thinking?"

  She looked up at him. "I'm thinking that this time you can be a pirate and I can be a stowaway."

  Leo and Lark: Mutual Indulgence

  She looked like a fairy princess in her long white gown trimmed in lace. Lark was so pure, so innocent. And as Leo looked at her he found himself regretting all the time he spent at studies when his brothers had been out chasing wenches.

  He'd lied to them, laughing at their jokes and pretending to know what they were talking about. He even come home with tales of his own; his brothers had never caught on that the stories of his exploits were just modified or embellished retellings of their own tales.

  "I'm ready!" Lark said, her eyes wide. "So what do we do now? My sisters all said not to worry, that you would teach me."

  Her voice trailed off. Leo walked over to her.

  "You're so pretty," he said. "I love you."

  She looked at him, her eyes so big in her heart-shaped face. "And I love you."

  She paused. "Are you mad at me?"

  "For what?" he asked.

  "For not knowing what to do."

  "Of course not," he said. "That would be silly of me."

  He paused, afraid to ask her what he knew he must ask. "Would you be mad at me if I told you that I did not know either?"

  Her gaze was quizzical. "But how would you not? You and your brothers have been with many, many women. My sisters told me it is the ways of rich men, even though it made me so angry when they said that..."

  "Wait," he said, holding up his hands. "It made you angry?"

  "Of course!" she said, "I'm the youngest. I hate to share!"

  Leo searched her face. "Seriously?" He could not control his grin when she nodded tearfully. Relieved he hugged her.

  "Oh, my dear Lark. I was afraid to tell you but now I can divulge what even my siblings don't know." He held her at arm's length now, looking at her face. "I have never been with a woman! My bothers, they all have but I never found one I fancied but I did not want to look like a green boy so I lied to them. But you, my dear, are the first and you are mine as well. You will never have to share. You never did."

  Her eyes widened even more and then she began to giggle, jumping up and down.

  "Oh, my love! I am so happy!" Then she stopped and the mirth drained from her face.

  "But how shall we figure it out?" she asked. "Do we need to call one of your brothers?"

  "No, no, no," he said hastily. "I do believe we can figure this out on our own. Come now. Let us lay on the bed."

  They lay together for a moment.


  "My sisters said we must undress."

  "Of course," Leo said, feeling stupid again. He sat up and took his nightshirt off. Lark looked down at his penis, nestled in the nest of hair atop his thighs. She pointed at it.

  "My sisters said you are to put that in me, but I don't know...."

  He smiled at this. "I think you can help," he said. "Here. Let's take your gown off."

  She was even lovelier than he could have imagined. Leo stared at her slender form, the upturned breasts with their dusky nipples, her flat belly, curvaceous thighs, firm round bottom.

  "Look!" she said. "It's growing."

  "So it is," he said. "Would you like to touch it?"

  She giggled as she did, and he put his hands to her breasts.

  "Oh!" she said. "It moves like a living thing!"

  He reached down and kissed her nipples. She giggled and writhed. He put his tongue first to one and then the other, suckling them gently.

  "Oh!" she said. "I feel something, too." She whispered the next words - "down there!" She pointed between her legs.

  He touched her there. She was damp, as his brothers said willing women are. Leo laid Lark back and kissed her. He liked kissing her. His tongue eased into her mouth and he felt hers dart against his. Neither seemed to realize that their bodies had taken over of their own accord, moving against one another. Curious hands were everywhere, touching, probing, exploring.

  Lark's legs fell open and he felt her hand guide him to her womanhood. Leo knew from his brothers' tales of deflowering virgins that there may be pain and he warned Lark. But she either did not hear or ignored him because she thrust up to him in such a manner that he could not deny her. He plunged himself into her without meaning to and heard her cry out in pain.

  "Are you all right" he asked, afraid that he'd done her permanent harm.

  She sniffled a bit. "Yes, I think so. It's not hurting so much as it did. Perhaps that is what happens the first time." She paused. "Was that it?"

  He held still. "No," he said. "I think there's more."

  "Oh good," she said. "Because that would have been disappointing."

  He began to move and she was moaning now and moving with him. They were awkward at first but then were moving in sync, kissing passionately as they rode waves of ecstasy. When Leo spilled his seed into her, Lark's legs went around him, squeezing him rhythmically as if trying to extract every last bit of ecstasy from their first time.