I follow him to the middle of the hall as it’s carried out. It must be ten feet high, so elaborately decorated that it feels tragic to take a knife to it. Yet I do, though we skip the whole smashing the cake in the groom’s face thing. It’s not dignified. I cut big slices for each of us and we eat them standing up.
I can feel my anticipation fluttering in my stomach as I swallow the sugary cake, swiping at my lips with my gloved fingers. I feel like a virgin all over again, thinking about what tonight will bring. My prince’s glances and longing looks turn my legs to jelly.
After the cake is served and the tables are moved again, the band starts up, and he pulls me into the room for a solo dance, sweeping me around the stone floor, lifting me from my feet as he turns me in his arms. I cling to him and squeeze his sides hard.
Other couples join. It’s so surreal to see my mother and father dancing at my wedding…here, of all places. I can barely believe this is happening. It’s like a dream.
Kristoff notices that I’ve started to cry, and pulls my head to his chest.
“What concerns you, my princess?”
“I’m just overwhelmed, that’s all.”
“Share your burdens.”
“I… I feel like I don’t deserve this.”
The music slows and so do we. The world blurs until it’s just the two of us, dancing through a magic kingdom.
“No one could deserve it more.”
“I wish my brother was here. I wish…” I trail off, leaving my second wish unspoken. I can’t tell my husband I wish my dead fiancé was here.
“I know,” he says, tugging on my braid until my hair falls loose.
“If he left me or we broke up or something it would be different but one night he was just gone and… I feel so awful. I want to love you with all my heart, but there’s still a piece of him there and I can’t just make it go away.”
“That piece of your heart is part of you. I love you for it. For your compassion, for your kindness, for your strength and humility. I said my vows before the people, but this is my vow to you. Now and forever I am yours. Hold me in your heart as well. That is all I ask.”
I sniffle into his chest and we dance until the music begins to fade.
Then it picks up again, a raucous tune. He told me this would happen but I’m not quite ready for it. All at once he scoops me up and I yelp and throw my arms around his neck.
Kristoff told me that traditionally, I’d be stripped naked by all the male guests and thrown into bed with him while they wait outside during the consummation. I almost thought he’d go through with it, but he’s only teasing me.
I cling to him as he carries me out of the hall, the guests in tow. They stop at the gate to the old section of the castle and we go the rest of the way ourselves. He doesn’t let go of me until he lowers me onto the bed and steps back to close the door.
I lower my feet to the floor and stand up. As he turns around, I undo the toggles and laces on the sides of my dress and let it fall in a pool around my feet. Underneath I’ve chosen a set of white lingerie and white stockings. I slip out of my shoes as he undoes his formal coat, stopping when I begin to undress him.
He tucks my crown onto my head to make sure it stays in place as I kneel before him. I look up at him and reach out with my tongue and pull the head of his cock into my mouth. He was already hard but gets harder, his hand gently resting on the back of my head as I wet the tip of his cock, swirling my tongue around it.
He likes that, I’ve learned.
The look on his face when he gives me a little thrust is priceless, like he forgot himself. I take him deeper in my mouth and then abruptly pull back, pressing my lips around his shaft just under where the head flares, as if saying no, no, let me do the work.
I tug his trousers down to his knees and rest my hands on his hips. My eyes lock on his and his whole body shakes under my hands as I keep my lips squeezed tight and slowly work them down his shaft, the taste of him filling my mouth.
One longing look and then I focus, close my eyes, and pull with my hands, shoving him down my throat. It’s hard as I start to gag, and I can’t take much of it, just long enough to slide my tongue out just a bit and tickle his balls with it. I open my eyes before I pull back and let his cock fall out of my mouth to take a deep breath, then begin sucking him again.
He rests his hands on my head and shoulder as I work. When I taste a hint of salt in my mouth I pull back and push his shaft against his belly and lick the underside for a while, feeling him tense as I edge him closer to a climax. The more excited he gets, the more I tease, working down to toy with his balls with my tongue and lips, sucking just until he groans before I stop.
He can’t take any more, I can feel it. I take him in my mouth and jerk with both hands until he explodes, gulping it down and wringing every drop out of him with my hands. He almost doubles over, his fingers twisting painfully in my hair as he loses control, tightly gripping my shoulder to keep himself from ramming his pulsing cock all the way down my throat.
When it’s over he yanks me to my feet and pulls me against him, and kisses me hard. I yield to it, rising on my toes to melt into him, running my hands over his skin.
“That is the last time you kneel for me,” he purrs, stroking my hair.
“What if I want to?” I say, batting my eyelashes at him.
I pull back and turn slowly, giving him a full view of my ass as I pace to the bed and summon every ounce of my inner vixen to entice him to follow. I lie on my side and stroke the featherbed next to me. Come here, big boy.
He sheds the last of his clothes and climbs into bed. I cry out and giggle when he grabs my legs, forces me onto my back, and spreads my thighs apart. He grabs my panties and rips them apart, throwing the shreds apart, and dives between my legs.
Oh God. I knot my fingers in his silky hair as his tongue glides over my thigh, working toward my pussy. My legs shake at just the thought of it. Just when I think he’s going to put his mouth on me he pulls back and cups my ass in his hands, squeezing. I buck my hips up at him, pleading silently. Come on, do it.
One little lick and I melt into the bed. He sticks his tongue out and drags it over my mound, letting me watch. I smile a dopey smile and my eyes go lidded as he goes to work, tasting every delicate inch of my throbbing pussy. When he starts to work my clit, I groan.
“Your prince commands you come for him,” he purrs.
“Yes,” I whimper, clutching his hair.
Now, do it, please. He buries his face in me and I writhe on the bed, driven to higher and higher planes of ecstasy. I’m just on the edge when I yank on his hair.
“Fuck me, oh please fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me!”
He rises over top of me, planting his hands on my shoulders, shoving me down on the bed. The sight of his rock-hard cock fills me with lust and anticipation and fear, and I feel my body clench, trying to grip him even before he enters me.
“It’s my wedding night,” I whisper, stroking my nails down his chest. “I think I’m supposed to plead with you to be gentle.”
“Oh?”
I lock my legs around him and pull him toward me. “Fuck gentle, nail me to the wall.”
His cock head spreads my lips and enters me just barely and then he rams home all at once, and I can’t contain myself and cry out, arching under him as he shoves me down into the bed with his weight. He thrusts into me and growls.
“Such a perfect princess outside, such a little slut in here.”
I giggle and rake him with my nails. Come on, my prince. Fuck me.
His thrusts make the bed creak, which is no mean feet. He almost hurts me, just on the edge of pleasure turning into pain, and I pay him back with my nails and teeth, egging him on as my pleasure skyrockets with every thrust. When I think it’s over he pulls out of me, grabs my hips, and turns me over.
He yanks me to him, our bodies joining again in a single thrust. I get up on my hands and knees and throw myself back at him, impaling
myself on his cock as he grabs my hair and pulls, arching my back as he grasps my neck with his other hand.
Oh God, I can’t take much more. He falls on top of me, presses me down onto the bed, and lies on top of me, his whole body jerking in hammering thrusts. He squeezes my hands and presses his cheek against mine. Tears stream down my cheeks and mingle with sweat. My hair is sopping wet, stuck to my skin. I feel like I’m melting into a puddle.
So good.
My legs splay out and my eyes roll back as I tumble over the edge, carried away on a tide of pleasure. The surging climax squeezes my body tight and lets go, only to come again, each one more intense than the last, until I’m quivering and whimpering and can barely breathe. When he finally explodes inside me I jerk and shudder, too exhausted to do more than lie there and moan.
Kristoff wraps his arms around me. He pulls me onto my side with him, so his cock is still inside me. I wriggle my hips and press against him, my sweaty back sticking to his chest. He flicks my nipple and my whole body jerks, and he starts laughing, wild and free, like a young man. I feel young, too. I start giggling and it turns into a gale of laughter and I wiggle my butt against him, using my pussy to tweak his still-sensitive cock. Payback for my nipple, you jerk.
He wraps the covers around us and sets my crown on the bed next to me, turning and fiddling with it with his fingers.
“You look glorious in your crown, my lady.”
I think addressing him as my lord husband is a little silly, but it’s too cute not to. Unfortunately all I can manage is an mmmm. It’s going to be a few minutes before I can summon my voice.
He finally draws out of me and I turn around to face him, lying in his arms. I like sniffing him after he fucks me. I bury my face in his armpit and breathe in, and he playfully pushes at me and tickles my ribs, trying to stop me. We end up rolling around on the bed until we’re wrapped in the covers and I’m leaning on his chest, my chin propped on my hand as I admire him.
Like an overexcited boy, he can’t keep his hands from my chest. It’s like every time he puts his hands there he’s shocked to discover that I have boobs, and he squeezes them like it’s the first time he’s ever touched them. I slip my legs around him and bend down to kiss him and his hands wrap around my back.
He doesn’t have to tell me, I just know. He likes the feeling of the soft weight of my breasts on his chest, and he likes it when I tense my stomach and grind on him, rubbing myself against his stomach. My ginger-red pubes absolutely fascinate him, as do my freckles.
He starts licking my shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“I wonder, can I rub the spots off?”
“That tickles, quit it.”
Telling him it tickles only makes it worse. Soon he’s hard again and I’m wet and pulsing, and I take him inside me. I stay on top this time and ride slowly, savoring him. I’m not going to stop until he’s too sore to continue.
“Come for me,” I beg him softly. “Come, my prince.”
He does, his body jerking sharply as instinct takes over and his thrust lifts me up. I roll my hips forward and back, urging him to give me every drop.
He pulls me down on top of him, panting, and I lie there for a while, rising and falling as he breathes.
I don’t care about my nakedness anymore. The firelight casts a healthy glow on my pale skin, slick with a sweaty sheen. I feel like I’ve been sitting in a sauna, I’m so sweaty.
He holds me tight and whispers to me and strokes me and pets me, and I forgive him when he falls asleep after a while.
I bite my lip and slip out of the bed. He stirs and his eyes flutter open, and he turns to watch me pad bare-assed naked across the room to the cabinet on the far side.
“What are you doing?”
I grab the little bottle of lube I asked my handmaid (by the way, I have handmaids now) to tuck away for me and hide it in my hand, pressed to my chest, as I saunter back to the bed, swaying my hips in an exaggerated motion as I bite my lip and lock gazes with him.
Gently I push on his legs and he spreads them, his face a mix of anticipation and curiosity. I squeeze lube into my palm and start stroking his cock, slowly and patiently, feeling every pulse of his heart as he comes to full hardness in my hands.
I settle my crown on my head and kneel before his slicked-up cock, and smile.
“I want to give you my wedding gift, my prince,” I purr, inwardly amazed that I’m pulling this off the way I planned it without turning into a stuttering idiot. “Your princess belongs to you. All of her.”
I slick his cock up with even more lube and turn around, kneeling. I arch my back and push my butt out and give it a little wiggle, grinning at him over my shoulder as I kneel between his legs.
Sitting back, I take him in my hand. His cock glides naturally between my ass cheeks and presses at my rosebud, the pressure building as I ease back into him. I feel his whole body going tense as I sit back and then all of a sudden he glides inside me.
I stop, shuddering and gasping. Holy hell, this feels weird.
“My princess…”
“I like it,” I groan, taking him deeper. “Just go slow for me, okay? Really slow, it’s…fuck, you’re huge.”
I lean forward as he sits up, piling pillows and covers under myself, hugging them as he takes control, entering me deeper. As he takes me it feels like I’ve forgotten how fucking enormous he is, and feel more than a twinge of fear at the thought of him putting that monster all the way in my body.
That is the hottest thing, the way I feel at his mercy. I’ve given myself completely to him, he owns me now and there’s nothing left.
Do it, own me.
His thrusts are gentler and slower than usual but longer, and I feel every tiny movement and twitch of his cock inside me, touching places I didn’t know could be touched. It feels too good to even groan. He strokes my back with his hand as he holds my hip, not breaking the slow, steady rhythm he’s established.
“Does it please you?” he says.
“Y…yes, does it please my prince?”
“Yes.”
“Please come for me. Come in my ass, my prince. Make me yours.”
“As you have made me yours,” he says, moving ever so slightly faster.
He reads my every movement, every clench and quiver, every little moan and movement of my head, the way my back and legs tense when he pushes into me all the way and I feel his balls pressed against my pussy. God, I wish he had two cocks.
He knows. He gently, very gently and slowly, takes me onto my side, spooning into my back, and his finger enters me, moving in time with his cock in my ass.
I just lie there in a haze, my muscles relaxing one by one until I forget what it’s like to move. I close my eyes as my pussy grips his finger and my asshole tightens in spasms, growing closer and closer to the grand finale.
“Oh Goooood,” I moan, shuddering.
He doesn’t say anything, he just grunts and comes inside me, his body shaking with restraint. He doesn’t give me his usual punishing thrust as he breaks. He impales me so slowly and holds it there throbbing while he comes.
“Fuck,” I chirp out, and then lose it.
It hurts to have him in my ass while I lose control but I don’t care. I lie there and thrash, pulsing around him, and he holds me still and rides it out.
I nearly pass out from the intensity of it then lie there groaning. He pulls out of me slowly, and for some reason when he leaves me completely it’s the only time it’s truly painful, as my body adjusts to the absence.
I flop onto my back and stare at his dick.
That was in my butt, and I liked it.
For some reason I find that incredibly funny and break out into a gale of laughter.
My prince looks at me like I’ve gone mad. Then he joins me.
After I lie there long enough to catch my breath, he picks me up from the bed and carries me into the shower. I sit on the little bench in a daze, hugging myself while he washes my
hair and scrubs my back, then stands me up and cleans my legs and under my arms, lifting my limbs like I’m a doll.
He doesn’t ask me to return the favor. He washes himself down then swaddles me in a robe and towels and lays me in the bed before drying himself off.
He gives me a glass of water first and I chug it lustily, gripping the big glass in both hands. Then we each take a glass of fruity wine that starts getting me drunk after a few sips.
“You have never been so beautiful as you are now.”
“Oh, stop it,” I say.
He doesn’t, not ever.
That becomes one of his favorite things to say to me.
The spring air pours in through the open window, rustling the papers on my desk. In the seventh month of my pregnancy, even moving to adjust myself in my padded chair can be a chore. This isn’t my first rodeo but it’s the heaviest burden I’ve ever borne.
My youngest, little Elsa, is absolutely fascinated by Mommy’s belly. Unlike her brothers and sister, she’s never experienced a pregnancy before, and at six years old understands just enough to comprehend that there are three little babies in Mommy’s belly, but not much more. She pads quietly into my study on bare, grubby feet, mud flecked from running in the woods with her brothers, and sets her tiny hands on my stomach.
“Hello, babies,” she says, before saying, “Hi, Mommy.”
I pat her head. “Go clean up, sweetie. You’re tracking mud all over the house.”
She rubs her cheek on my stomach and runs back out of the room, shedding more mud on the way out than she did as she came in. My instruction to clean up is apparently forgotten as she runs back outside, whooping, and hurls herself at her eldest brother.
John is fourteen years old and nearly as tall as his father, a slender, strapping youth who has the eye of all the village girls. I can’t help but grin when he gets awkward around one girl he has a little crush on, a slender redhead named Elaine. She’s out there now, sitting beside him along the stream as he studiously ignores the fishing pole he’s propped up.
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