He cradled her to his chest, looking down into her deep golden-brown eyes. He was ready for her, had been since before she took his hand. He had remained painfully hard for most of the evening’s festivities but now he ached and throbbed so strongly he feared he might not last long enough to please his princess. He had to make this experience as pleasurable for her as it was for him so he placed her down by the bed, gently spinning her to face away from him and smoothed his hands over her trembling spine then around to cup one of her breasts between his rough fingers. She moaned, and the stiff part of him jumped at the sound.

  He unwrapped her like a present, stripping her of her clothing carefully as if revealing a precious gift. It unspooled around her then gathered at her feet. She wanted to turn to him but his hand had moved from her breast to rest against her throat, holding her steady.

  After she was fully naked before him, he inspected her plump rear. With a heart shape it was the roundest part of her with two matching dimples just above. He moved his hand from her throat, grazing her breast, squeezing her hip, then allowed her to turn to face him. Those well-formed thighs met and shielded her inner cavern from view, but he would reveal it soon.

  As she watched, he stripped off his undershirt, revealing the full musculature she had seen many times though now holding new scars. Scars he had received protecting her.

  He undid his trousers and let them slip down to his ankles, kicking them aside and revealed the second man she had ever seen naked. Unlike Frederick, Hayden was already hard and ready for her. The rod between his muscular thighs sprung forward towards her and glistened with liquid on its powerful tip.

  She wanted him the way she had failed to want Frederick. Hayden’s nakedness didn’t frighten Marilla, instead it drew her nearer. He stood perfectly still as she stepped up to him, gazing at the thick black chest hair that shadowed his muscled torso, chiseling his otherwise smooth, clean skin. She reached out, lightly laying a finger against the hardness of his chest and stroking gently down his prominent pecs, his solid abdominals, and he shuddered beneath her, giving her a rush of excitement.

  As he had done, she placed her lips to his neck, feeling him tremble with anticipation as she moved down to trace the scars along his chest then his abdominals, which were tight against her soft lips.

  He smelled of grass and wheat, scents she’d never found sexy until now.

  She felt his hands on her shoulders gently pulling her back up to meet his lips again. She ached, everything ached painfully with longing and desire as he gently laid her down against the fresh sheets he had paid for. Slowly he brought himself over her, a looming shadow between her spread legs. She placed her hand to his rock-hard shoulder and gazed into his eyes as he brought his hips lower. She could feel his breath coming as quickly as hers as he reached down to touch the sensitive area between her thighs.

  To his satisfaction he found her slick. She wiggled beneath the pressure of his fingers, gasping and bringing new color to her already flushed cheeks. How could anything be so beautiful?

  Grasping his aching rod, he brought it down into the same harbor his fingers had just explored and nestled between the folds of her sex. She was so small beneath him, so tight it made him wonder if Frederick had even touched her. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, mostly because he didn’t want his princess thinking of anyone but him. Not ever again.

  She wanted to be his, so he would make her his.

  He sheathed himself fully within her, and she cried out in both pleasure and pain. He stilled, letting her adjust as she trembled, her thighs weak and liquified.

  He began to move over her, his lips meeting hers again as he moved out slowly then back in just as painfully slow. Each time he had sheathed himself fully, she gasped out. He hit the barrier found deep within her and she squirmed beneath him, her breaths coming in husky gasps.

  He sped his resolve, pushing in gently still but not as slowly, building her up to strong and quick thrusts that would send him over the edge. When she began to press into his movements, he knew she was ready and quickened the pace and ferocity of his thrusts. His hips smacked hers and her eyelids fluttered with each powerful strike. He knew the pressure was building, building, building until—she moaned, clutching him possessively as her whole body spasmed, clenching and releasing around him.

  Her arms were fastened around his neck, her chest pressed to his and he felt her release as powerfully as he felt his own. He moaned against her neck, gritting her name as he finished what he had longed to for years.

  He had her, she was his and he was hers.

  He was hers, finally, and she would always be his. The pain was intense but was soon followed by intense pleasure at the pressure that pressed inside her. Her whole body turned to stone, hot lava pouring over her and once she thawed she felt like liquid. Her muscles weak and tingly, her bones like jelly.

  Afterwards they lay out of breath tangled together, her slung over his hefty chest as he lay on his back contentedly stroking the length of her spine

  “I’m sorry,” he panted suddenly.

  “Whatever for?” she asked, propping herself up on his chest to look down into the green depths of his eyes.

  “I wanted our first time to be perfect, in the perfect destination—”

  “I don’t care where we are, Hayden, as long as we’re together.” And she didn’t. She wished she hadn’t been so foolish and that this had happened sooner, that she had chosen him as her husband in the first place, but she decided that dwelling on missed opportunities overshadowed the opportunity they had now. She did not care that they were in a hotel in a brothel town, she was in his arms and everything felt right. “This is perfect,” she promised dreamily, sighing contentedly as she laid her head onto his chest, her ear intent on his heartbeat.

  “I’m glad you think so,” he sighed and she could hear his smile in the timbre of his voice as he kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad I was able to please you.”

  “You more than pleased me,” Marilla whispered, stroking her fingers along his chest, tracing the fresh scars that crisscrossed there.

  There was a knock on the wooden door and Hayden exchanged glances with Marilla before standing and gathering his overcoat, which he closed in the front like a robe. Before doing so however, Marilla got an eyeful of his muscular back and noticed how the rounded hills and valleys surrounded his spine like a mountain range.

  Her chest grew fluttery just watching him walk to the door.

  It was the maid Hayden had tipped to clean the room, she was carrying steaming towels now, holding them out to him. “I heard your virgin scream, I thought I would bring some towels for you to get cleaned up and a fresh sheet for the bed.”

  Hayden looked at the towels, then over at Marilla. “Virg—”

  Marilla looked down at the sheet she had over her torso, lifting it slightly she gasped at the crimson stain that spread from between her legs. Hayden quickly helped her from bed and wrapped the sheet around her protectively as the maid changed the linens. She bowed to them before leaving and Marilla dropped the sheet and took a better look at herself. She had mostly dried blood crusted between her upper thighs, and when Hayden removed his robe some of her virgin blood was stuck to him as well.

  Hayden grabbed one of the hot towels and instructed her to lie back on the bed sheets. She did as she was told and watched as he cleaned the blood from her skin as carefully as if cleaning a wound. He gently swept the moist towel over her thighs then between her legs before cleaning himself with another one, and when they were free of blood he whispered, “Virgin.” Hayden managed to look baffled. “I didn’t realize I’d hurt you that much. I thought after your wedding—”

  “Hayden, he didn’t,” she broke off and he tilted his head at her as she forced out the words. “He didn’t touch me.” His eyes flashed, and she added in a rush, “I mean he almost did, but then he was called away.”

  “So he’s illegitimate,” Hayden said, his deep voice hitched with excitement.

  “Illegitimate?”

  “He never consummated your marriage, so the marriage can be annulled making him an illegitimate emperor,” he said, pulling her into a joyous kiss. “This is good, it means you can overthrow him!”

  Marilla swallowed. “H-Hayden.” Hayden sobered at her tone, searching her troubled expression. “There was no one in the room to confirm that nothing happened, and i-if they inspect me…” She averted her eyes to her legs, moistening her lips with her tongue. “Who would believe me?”

  His jaw clenched slightly, following her gaze to her clenched thighs. “Do you regret—”

  “No! No,” she said hastily, quickly snapping her eyes back up to his, placing her fingers to his cheek. “I just mean, who would believe me now? When they inspect me, they will find my passage broken. They inspected me before the marriage, they will know I have lain with someone since then, so who will believe that it was not with Frederick? Certainly not enough people to overthrow him. An annulment wouldn’t be approved with my current condition.”

  Though he understood her meaning, he did not appreciate her word choice. “So what do you prefer we do?”

  “What we originally planned. Go to the temple and regroup. We can decide our course of action there where we are safe and hidden,” Marilla said, biting her lip in contemplation.

  Hayden watched her pearled teeth clamp around her lower lip thoughtfully and swallowed his growing desire to bed her again. She was probably sore, being as he had ripped her open that night. “As you wish, Princess,” he said, leading her back towards the bed.

  “Hayden?”

  He turned to her to see her golden-brown eyes fire hot with desire as she gazed at him. “Yes, my Princess?” he whispered and her breath caught. He knew she liked being called that.

  “Could you,” she paused, “again?” She ducked her head under his intense gaze, her cheeks heating with embarrassment.

  Hayden turned fully to her and smirked. “A princess does not ask her servants, she commands them,” he joked.

  Marilla returned his mischievous smile, laughing as she brought her shoulders together and raised her chin. “Very well Bladed Tiger, I command you to make love to me again.”

  His smirk turned into a sincere smile that took her breath away fully. “I have always enjoyed being your servant. The perks are unparalleled.”

  She laughed as he scooped her into his arms again.

  The next morning Marilla woke in bed with a heavy general acting as her blanket. She faced away from him, her back pressed into his chest with his arm slung over her torso. She smiled, snuggling deeper into his embrace until the call of nature demanded she rise.

  The morning air was cold without Hayden’s warmth wrapped around her so she dressed quickly and left the room to take care of business.

  She was on her way back to the room when the maid from the previous day spotted her. “Good morning, my lady. You look positively radiant this morn.” Marilla hadn’t noticed how close to her age the cocoa skin woman was. Definitely within five years yet her tone and manner made her appear much older.

  “Thank you,” Marilla said graciously, adding in a rush, “and thank you for your attentiveness yesterday. It really helped.”

  The maid dipped her head. “What will you be needing this morning? Some hot water for laserwort or,” she broke off at the blank look on Marilla’s face. “Did he not mention the prevention of a child?” she asked, eyebrow raised slightly and when Marilla shook her head, the maid’s expression soured into disgust. “Of course he didn’t. Men seem to forget the results of their pleasure.” She looked at Marilla almost as a mother would look at her child before taking her hand. “Come with me, girl. There’s an herbalist who often provides contraception to the brothel girls, she can help.”

  “So, there could be a child growing in me now?” Marilla squeaked as she followed her.

  The maid scoffed as she led Marilla from the inn and into the air of the morning. The streets were deserted, very unlike the liveliness of the night before. “Did your mother teach you nothing of intercourse?”

  “I suppose she died before she had the opportunity,” Marilla said simply and caught her companion flinch. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  “No, I’m sorry. No woman should grow up without her mother.”

  “I hardly remember her,” Marilla admitted. “I was very young when she passed.”

  “Well, you’d have to be not to know the dangers of unprotected sex. I’m Cornelia by the way.”

  “Marilla,” she introduced herself. “It’s very nice to make your acquaintance.”

  “The pleasure is mine.” Cornelia smiled sincerely, her dark lips pulling against her muddy eyes. She moved elegantly across the street despite being in the maid’s profession, her movements much like the street courtesans. Steps intentional and eye catching.

  “Were you once a courtesan?” Marilla dared to ask. “Is that how you knew I was a virgin and know how to take care of possible pregnancies?”

  “Once,” Cornelia answered.

  “What happened?” Marilla asked as they walked side by side down the dirt road.

  “I grew too old,” Cornelia said simply.

  Marilla snorted, thinking she was joking. “You’re hardly in your twenties.”

  “Late twenties. There’s a very specific age for a whore. Too old, and men either lose interest or start asking for some peculiar things.” Cornelia scoffed as if she could tell some wild tales. “I took my savings and started earning a wage without the pressure of competing against my flower sisters. In this life it’s better to work together, and knowing when to quit is an important part of living. If I were to continue as a courtesan, at best I’d be robbing a younger courtesan of a possible wage.” Cornelia shrugged. “Not worth it.”

  Cornelia turned into a small avenue with plants and sweet-smelling herbs growing all along the steppingstones towards a small wooden cottage. “Plus, as a courtesan your value drops significantly after your christening, but you have a good man. I can tell you mean a great deal to him.”

  Marilla felt her cheeks heat. “How can you tell?”

  Cornelia shrugged. “I’ve been through enough men to know the ones who truly care and those who don’t. There’s a certain twinkle in their eyes, a glow as they walk beside you, and that man may as well have been a bright, shining star when you came into the inn. You make him brighter. As long as he has that gleam about him in your presence, you know you have him.”

  Cornelia led Marilla onto the wooden deck and knocked thrice against the echoing wood pane that blocked their entrance.

  “Was it difficult?” Marilla asked. “Working in the brothel?”

  Cornelia shrugged. “At first, but with practice it got easier like most things. This land is unforgiving, sometimes doing what you don’t want to is necessary to survive in it, and I counted my blessings every day that I wasn’t on the street starving. I was living high with men who lusted for me, would do anything, pay anything to hold me. There are worse things.”

  Indeed there were, Marilla was learning that though she didn’t want her kingdom to be considered an ‘unforgiving land’ as Cornelia said. She didn’t want women to have to resort to brothels because they felt they had to, though Marilla wondered if they ever would resort to it if they didn’t have to. Cornelia was right however that her previous profession wasn’t near as bad as life could get. In the last few weeks Marilla had seen too many young children starving and too many girls younger than Marilla selling themselves to provide for their family. She had no idea how to fix it however, or if she even could.

  The wooden door creaked open to reveal a woman maybe twice Cornelia’s age, just graduating into middle age with droopy eyes dull from sleep. “It is far too early for you to be knocking, Cornelia,” the woman snapped irritably.

  “This young woman was christened last night,” Cornelia said, ignoring the herbalist’s stern tone. “She has never tasted an herb to prevent a child, she needs to be tended to immediately.” The older woman’s eyes scanned Marilla, her brown dress and leather boots with her copper blade concealed against her ankle. Her cheeks were still bright from lust, reddened in a clear sign of enjoyment. “Geneva?” Geneva’s attention returned to Cornelia at her spoken name.

  Geneva sighed through her nostrils, stepping back and letting the two come inside. “Get her squared away yourself,” Geneva instructed. “You’ve had enough practice to know what everything does. I am returning to bed.” She then started for the stairs positioned off to the side of the hallway and Marilla quickly called a thank-you though the herb woman did not slow her ascent up to the second floor, her robe wrapped tightly around herself.

  Cornelia waved Marilla into the main room where herbs hung from twine to dry and jars filled with already dried herbs sat along the shelves. Marilla walked down the line of bookshelves all holding an assortment of glass jars containing colorful seeds and petals. When she turned around, Cornelia was holding up a glass container of dried roots as brown as her eyes.

  “Laserwort root. The seeds are just as potent against childbearing but taste much worse. These actually make a decent tea,” Cornelia explained, handing her the jar. She picked up what appeared to be a chain of plain iron. “This charm offers a more permanent solution.” Cornelia held up the heavy metal chain and Marilla reached forward to touch it. “It seeps into the skin and poisons the womb.” Marilla drew her hand back as if the charm was actually a flame that threatened to burn her. “No?” Cornelia shrugged. “Then your best bet is the root. You’ll have to take more today since your body isn’t accustomed to it yet and you already have his swimmers inside you trying to make you a host.”

  Cornelia dug a silver coin from her pocket and tapped it onto the shelf where the jar had been. “You’ll pay me back when we return to the inn,” she ordered, an edge of warning to her tone.

  “Yes, we will,” Marilla promised, holding the jar tight to her chest. “Thank you, Cornelia. You are very kind.”

 

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