married babies
Title: Connection
Fandom: Reign
Pairings: Mary/Francis
Rating: Mature
Genre: Romance
Words: 2445
AN: At end
Summary: Mary & Francis post 1x13, their wedding night continues a bit more privately.
Disclaimer: I don't own Reign, I just like to play with pretty, pretty things.
Connection
"Francis," she gasps softly, reaching her climax. I'm right behind, her name falling from my lips. I roll off her, shielding her body from the room of watchers this ritual requires, but mostly from him. I pull out quickly, she drops her legs from around me and I sweep her nightgown down to cover her. He's seen more of my wife than I ever wanted him to.
"Are you alright?" I whisper in her ear. She nods in response. I make sure her modesty is protected before turning to our unwanted, but required, spectators. "You may all leave. Please close the doors on the way out."
Once everyone is gone, and we are alone at last, I turn back to her. "Would you prefer to stay here for the night or decamp to one of our rooms?"
She sits up and scoots over to mold herself into my side, sliding her arms around my waist. I wrap an arm around her, pulling her flush into my side. "I think I would prefer we go to my rooms. But, Francis, what about the inspection? Did you..." she trails off, turning to look at the clean bed sheet upon which we just consummated our union before God, his representatives on earth and apparently half the chateau.
I smile, disentangling us, reaching for my dressing gown. "I took care of that," I nod, reaching in the pocket to retrieve a small vial. "Here," I grin, holding it up for her to see.
"Is that..." she giggles, her eyes wide. I've missed that, the sound of her happiness and joy - something I had resigned myself just yesterday to never hear again. I lean over to capture the sound with my lips, feeling both of us smile.
I pull back, touching my forehead to hers and nod. "It's blood from a goat, I'm told. I asked one of the servants who has known me for years and who has always been reliable, loyal and discreet; she got it for me."
"She?" Mary laughs, a question in her voice.
"Yes, she," I nod. "A she who is older than my mother and has known me my entire life. I know she wouldn't tell anyone. Based on the sheet you did stain, we don't need a lot, but let's smear it a bit so it looks like we've rolled over it."
I uncork the vial, moving to dribble the blood on the sheet - it doesn't take much. I smear it while she watches me, then move over to the washstand to clean off my hands. I pick up her dressing gown and slippers and hand them to her, putting on my own dressing gown before going to the door to speak to the guards, asking them to have some food and wine delivered to Mary's rooms before closing it. I put on my own slippers before looking up at her.
She's staring at me in much the same way I've stared at her multiple times since she came to me last night, as if she can't believe I'm really here and that we've actually gotten another chance at the life we both wanted so badly and imagined so vividly. That this isn't somehow a dream we'll wake up from at any moment.
I grab her hand and open the door, ushering her out. We don't make it twenty paces before I pull her to me, needing her lips on mine; hers open immediately, her tongue meeting mine. I push one hand into her already mussed hair, while the other trails firmly from her neck down to one of her breasts that I love and have missed - pulling on her sensitive nipple till she rips her lips off mine with a loud moan of my name.
I've been slowly walking us back toward a small alcove which can provide some protection from prying eyes, but I realize as we both start to rub against and thrust into one another that I don't want our second time as man and wife to be another exhibition. I want her alone and naked. I want to feel her soft skin against mine.
I pull away, grabbing her hand, and turn to run down the corridors to get to her rooms. "Come on!" I throw over my shoulder with a grin, making her shriek out my name.
We tumble through the door, both of us laughing and a little out of breath. I whirl her around, pushing her back against the door. Her head bangs hard back against the wood, making me stop for a moment. "Are you alright?" I ask anxiously, never wanting to hurt her.
"I'm fine," she nods after a moment, yanking my head down to hers and attacking my lips. Our tongues intertwine. She pulls back after a moment, nipping at the tip of my tongue, then pushes at my dressing gown, trying to get it off. I pull back for a moment to shrug out of it while she mirrors my actions. I yank her voluminous consummation gown over her head, flinging it away. Hopefully, I will never have to see her in anything like that ever again.
I take a moment to savor the perfect sight before me, one I'd resigned myself to never seeing again. Her breasts - which I love so much - heave, her nipples hard and erect for me. My eyes travel down her body to the dip of her waist, her navel; to the curve of her hip and the dark curls between her legs. I can see moisture glistening there. My eyes wrench away, following down her legs to her tiny feet before coming back up the other side.
She stands before me like Venus rising out of the tides. No shame or embarrassment at me seeing her like this. Her hand slides up her side to palm her breast, her thumb flicking her already hard nipple. I'm mesmerized by this goddess who loves me. Her other hand travels down to her dark curls, her middle finger disappearing for a moment. She pulls it out with a moan, moisture dripping from her digit. She holds it out for me and I eagerly lap at her exquisite taste.
"That's for you," she purrs at me, eyes hooded. "I want you; I need you."
Never one to deny her anything, I dive toward the untended breast, sucking her hard nub into my mouth and biting down hard. She gasps, then moans loudly. My hand joins hers for a moment on her other breast, rolling her nipple in concert, making her grind herself into my hardness.
Her hands fist in my huge nightshirt, pulling at it. "Off, off, off, want skin," she staccatos out, jerking it over my head. She bends down and licks upwards from navel to my chin, biting down hard. "I need you inside me - now. I feel like I'm on fire."
I move against her. We both hiss at the first full skin-on-skin contact we've had in so long. I rub my chest against her breasts, reacquainting myself with the exquisite feel.
I hitch her up against the door, moving between her legs. "Hold onto me," rushes out as I situate her legs around my hips. She anchors herself on my shoulders.
"Gladly," she smirks.
What in God's own name did I do to get this damn lucky? We were betrothed at six and childhood companions. Who knew the girl with skinny legs would grow up to be a complete and total wanton - at least with me? When did duty turn to love? When did love turn to all-consuming need and passion? How did the girl I was so determined to resist put such a vise grip on my heart - just like the way I'm looking forward to her inner walls clamping down on my hardness.
Considering she seemed to not give a shit that my brother - and her recently betrothed - was watching as we consummated our union, I have to assume I was right about his claims. While I'd never felt so murderous in my life, she just focused on us and me. He'd never seen her like this. This is something just between us. I'm the only one who gets to see and experience her complete abandon - just a man and a woman who want and need one another, bonded by the love that they share. Moments where she can just be Mary and I can just be Francis. Exactly as she wanted from the start.
"Hey," she pulls me out of my thoughts, yanking on my chin.
"Sorry," I apologize, my hand stroking her thighs. "I just got caught up in the moment for a second. This almost doesn't seem real," I reach up for a short kiss. "Just a day ago I'd given up on us and accepted my life was never going to be what I'd thought it would be. I was determined to move on and make the best of it."
"I know," she nods, sadness and apology filling her eyes, her hand reaching out to caress my face. "Me too, I know. I had to stop yearning for us or I would have gone mad."
I have to kiss her then, my mouth diving toward hers, my tongue tangling with hers. She wrenches her lips from mine. My lips travel down her neck, licking, nipping and sucking. I bite her neck right beside her pulse, exactly where I know she loves it. My reward is her moan of my name and a yank on my hair.
I pull back. Looking down, I line myself up with her entrance. The tops of our heads meet. We watch together as my tip disappears into her dark curls, making both our breaths hitch in concert.
I push up into her, all the way to the hilt. She squeezes down hard on me, moaning into my ear. "Fuck," I moan in response. She feels so exquisite around me, as if we were made for one another; we fit together so perfectly. No one and nothing compares to this.
"Please," she grunts back, her eyes hooded, honey-brown irises barely there in a sea of black.
"Really?" I ask, just to make sure. It's not like we haven't had plenty of enthusiastic sex in the past, or had one another till we exhausted ourselves. But tonight is supposed to be special, a celebration of our union. Then again celebrations of a solemn union don't usually happen against the back of a door, either.
"God, yes," she grunts, her hips jerking. "It's our wedding night and we just had approximately twenty people watch us officially seal our union, with a few unexpected and unwelcome guests. You've got me pinned against a door. Do you really think if I just wanted us to make slow sweet love I'd be letting us have one another here - like this. There's plenty of time for that. I just want you right now, to feel you, to let you overwhelm my senses. For you to, yes, take me like I know you can," her chest and cheeks bloom with her flush. It's one of the things I love best about her - innocence mixed with boldness - a minx who matches my every want and desire.
Permission granted, I can't let down my newly wedded wife. "Put one hand on my shoulders and then touch any part of yourself you want to with your other hand," I instruct, my hands cupping her buttocks and hips for leverage and stability. I tip her pelvis toward me, pull out of her almost entirely and then push straight back into her. She gasps, her head falling back into the door, her eyes falling shut.
She palms her breast, rolling her peak with her free hand. I set a fast pace, pulling out pushing back into her, making each of us moan, gasp and pant each time. My hands bite into the soft flesh of her hips and thighs. She'll probably have bruises, but I can't bring myself to care about that now. Her hand leaves her breast, sliding down her stomach to rub at her sensitive nub. I can feel her fingers on me as I move in and out of her. It feels exquisite.
"Francis, more," she breathes.
"As my queen commands," I smirk, dipping to capture her mouth for a moment, biting down on her full bottom lip like I love to do. I pick up the pace, making slightly shallower thrusts, my hips banging into hers.
She's crossed her legs around me, her heel grinding into my buttock. She's now able to meet my thrusts with her own, making me redouble my efforts. Her cries of elation driving me.
"Look at me," I implore. I want to see her beautiful eyes when I reach my pinnacle. I can feel myself tightening, my apex near, the way she's fluttering and clamping around me tells me she's close too. She pulls her head up, looking straight into my eyes. I see passion and need and want and awe. But most of all I see love - for me, for us.
I push up into her one last time, her walls clamping around me like a vise, pushing me over the edge, her name falling off my lips. She's right after me, puffing out my name as she milks me for everything I can give her.
I love that face of hers as she climaxes. Her whole face freezes for a moment as if in pain, before I can see the absolute ecstasy of her fall.
My legs give out as I come down from our high, my knees first thudding hard into the door and then following her as she collapses on the floor. I twine us together, her legs wrapped around my waist, our arms wrapped around one another. "Unf," she grunts into my neck, biting down hard enough to make me yelp. "I tried to forget how much I missed this," she mumbles into my neck.
I have to agree. I tried to forget in the bodies of other women and in too many bottles of wine. But it's hard to forget someone you love with everything in your entire being; and moments of perfect connection where the two of you seemed the only people in the entire world.
---
We've only made it as far as the couch, moving it directly in front of the fire. The fire hadn't been tended this night as it had been assumed we would spend it in the ceremonial consummation chambers. I had to stoke it and then build it up again. Now it roars and dances to provide warmth. Most of the chamber is still cold, but we're fine here close to the fire, though neither of us have bothered with any clothes. They're unneeded. We just need the fire, blankets and each other to stay warm - though there's just enough nip still in the air for her dusty peaks to remain erect, which I love. The kitchens have provided us with the requested wine - a warm spicy mulled one - pears, veined cheese, bread and a roasted chicken.
She's just the way I love her best - hair wild, cheeks and breasts flushed, leaning into me, blanket around her waist. I reach over to pinch a nipple. She rewards me with a gasp and a moan of my name.
"I'm hungry," she pouts. "Feed me, so I can have my way with you this time."
I capture her lips, feeling myself stir again at her suggestive words. "Promise?"
She breaks into a wicked smile, pulling her bottom lip through her teeth, making me jealous. That lip is mine to bite. Her small hand finds its way under the blanket to palm me, changing my stirring quickly into hardening. "Mmmmm, definitely."
FIN
Endnotes:
1) Thank you to Justcallmesmitty for her always fab beta skills, even under the weather. Xoxoxoxo
2) The goat blood bit is just to humor myself, and to suggest a degrees of separation connection to the too long gone Leith.
Comments and reviews are greatly appreciated.
Fandom: Reign
Pairings: Mary/Francis
Rating: Mature
Genre: Romance
Words: 2445
AN: At end
Summary: Mary & Francis post 1x13, their wedding night continues a bit more privately.
Disclaimer: I don't own Reign, I just like to play with pretty, pretty things.
Connection
"Francis," she gasps softly, reaching her climax. I'm right behind, her name falling from my lips. I roll off her, shielding her body from the room of watchers this ritual requires, but mostly from him. I pull out quickly, she drops her legs from around me and I sweep her nightgown down to cover her. He's seen more of my wife than I ever wanted him to.
"Are you alright?" I whisper in her ear. She nods in response. I make sure her modesty is protected before turning to our unwanted, but required, spectators. "You may all leave. Please close the doors on the way out."
Once everyone is gone, and we are alone at last, I turn back to her. "Would you prefer to stay here for the night or decamp to one of our rooms?"
She sits up and scoots over to mold herself into my side, sliding her arms around my waist. I wrap an arm around her, pulling her flush into my side. "I think I would prefer we go to my rooms. But, Francis, what about the inspection? Did you..." she trails off, turning to look at the clean bed sheet upon which we just consummated our union before God, his representatives on earth and apparently half the chateau.
I smile, disentangling us, reaching for my dressing gown. "I took care of that," I nod, reaching in the pocket to retrieve a small vial. "Here," I grin, holding it up for her to see.
"Is that..." she giggles, her eyes wide. I've missed that, the sound of her happiness and joy - something I had resigned myself just yesterday to never hear again. I lean over to capture the sound with my lips, feeling both of us smile.
I pull back, touching my forehead to hers and nod. "It's blood from a goat, I'm told. I asked one of the servants who has known me for years and who has always been reliable, loyal and discreet; she got it for me."
"She?" Mary laughs, a question in her voice.
"Yes, she," I nod. "A she who is older than my mother and has known me my entire life. I know she wouldn't tell anyone. Based on the sheet you did stain, we don't need a lot, but let's smear it a bit so it looks like we've rolled over it."
I uncork the vial, moving to dribble the blood on the sheet - it doesn't take much. I smear it while she watches me, then move over to the washstand to clean off my hands. I pick up her dressing gown and slippers and hand them to her, putting on my own dressing gown before going to the door to speak to the guards, asking them to have some food and wine delivered to Mary's rooms before closing it. I put on my own slippers before looking up at her.
She's staring at me in much the same way I've stared at her multiple times since she came to me last night, as if she can't believe I'm really here and that we've actually gotten another chance at the life we both wanted so badly and imagined so vividly. That this isn't somehow a dream we'll wake up from at any moment.
I grab her hand and open the door, ushering her out. We don't make it twenty paces before I pull her to me, needing her lips on mine; hers open immediately, her tongue meeting mine. I push one hand into her already mussed hair, while the other trails firmly from her neck down to one of her breasts that I love and have missed - pulling on her sensitive nipple till she rips her lips off mine with a loud moan of my name.
I've been slowly walking us back toward a small alcove which can provide some protection from prying eyes, but I realize as we both start to rub against and thrust into one another that I don't want our second time as man and wife to be another exhibition. I want her alone and naked. I want to feel her soft skin against mine.
I pull away, grabbing her hand, and turn to run down the corridors to get to her rooms. "Come on!" I throw over my shoulder with a grin, making her shriek out my name.
We tumble through the door, both of us laughing and a little out of breath. I whirl her around, pushing her back against the door. Her head bangs hard back against the wood, making me stop for a moment. "Are you alright?" I ask anxiously, never wanting to hurt her.
"I'm fine," she nods after a moment, yanking my head down to hers and attacking my lips. Our tongues intertwine. She pulls back after a moment, nipping at the tip of my tongue, then pushes at my dressing gown, trying to get it off. I pull back for a moment to shrug out of it while she mirrors my actions. I yank her voluminous consummation gown over her head, flinging it away. Hopefully, I will never have to see her in anything like that ever again.
I take a moment to savor the perfect sight before me, one I'd resigned myself to never seeing again. Her breasts - which I love so much - heave, her nipples hard and erect for me. My eyes travel down her body to the dip of her waist, her navel; to the curve of her hip and the dark curls between her legs. I can see moisture glistening there. My eyes wrench away, following down her legs to her tiny feet before coming back up the other side.
She stands before me like Venus rising out of the tides. No shame or embarrassment at me seeing her like this. Her hand slides up her side to palm her breast, her thumb flicking her already hard nipple. I'm mesmerized by this goddess who loves me. Her other hand travels down to her dark curls, her middle finger disappearing for a moment. She pulls it out with a moan, moisture dripping from her digit. She holds it out for me and I eagerly lap at her exquisite taste.
"That's for you," she purrs at me, eyes hooded. "I want you; I need you."
Never one to deny her anything, I dive toward the untended breast, sucking her hard nub into my mouth and biting down hard. She gasps, then moans loudly. My hand joins hers for a moment on her other breast, rolling her nipple in concert, making her grind herself into my hardness.
Her hands fist in my huge nightshirt, pulling at it. "Off, off, off, want skin," she staccatos out, jerking it over my head. She bends down and licks upwards from navel to my chin, biting down hard. "I need you inside me - now. I feel like I'm on fire."
I move against her. We both hiss at the first full skin-on-skin contact we've had in so long. I rub my chest against her breasts, reacquainting myself with the exquisite feel.
I hitch her up against the door, moving between her legs. "Hold onto me," rushes out as I situate her legs around my hips. She anchors herself on my shoulders.
"Gladly," she smirks.
What in God's own name did I do to get this damn lucky? We were betrothed at six and childhood companions. Who knew the girl with skinny legs would grow up to be a complete and total wanton - at least with me? When did duty turn to love? When did love turn to all-consuming need and passion? How did the girl I was so determined to resist put such a vise grip on my heart - just like the way I'm looking forward to her inner walls clamping down on my hardness.
Considering she seemed to not give a shit that my brother - and her recently betrothed - was watching as we consummated our union, I have to assume I was right about his claims. While I'd never felt so murderous in my life, she just focused on us and me. He'd never seen her like this. This is something just between us. I'm the only one who gets to see and experience her complete abandon - just a man and a woman who want and need one another, bonded by the love that they share. Moments where she can just be Mary and I can just be Francis. Exactly as she wanted from the start.
"Hey," she pulls me out of my thoughts, yanking on my chin.
"Sorry," I apologize, my hand stroking her thighs. "I just got caught up in the moment for a second. This almost doesn't seem real," I reach up for a short kiss. "Just a day ago I'd given up on us and accepted my life was never going to be what I'd thought it would be. I was determined to move on and make the best of it."
"I know," she nods, sadness and apology filling her eyes, her hand reaching out to caress my face. "Me too, I know. I had to stop yearning for us or I would have gone mad."
I have to kiss her then, my mouth diving toward hers, my tongue tangling with hers. She wrenches her lips from mine. My lips travel down her neck, licking, nipping and sucking. I bite her neck right beside her pulse, exactly where I know she loves it. My reward is her moan of my name and a yank on my hair.
I pull back. Looking down, I line myself up with her entrance. The tops of our heads meet. We watch together as my tip disappears into her dark curls, making both our breaths hitch in concert.
I push up into her, all the way to the hilt. She squeezes down hard on me, moaning into my ear. "Fuck," I moan in response. She feels so exquisite around me, as if we were made for one another; we fit together so perfectly. No one and nothing compares to this.
"Please," she grunts back, her eyes hooded, honey-brown irises barely there in a sea of black.
"Really?" I ask, just to make sure. It's not like we haven't had plenty of enthusiastic sex in the past, or had one another till we exhausted ourselves. But tonight is supposed to be special, a celebration of our union. Then again celebrations of a solemn union don't usually happen against the back of a door, either.
"God, yes," she grunts, her hips jerking. "It's our wedding night and we just had approximately twenty people watch us officially seal our union, with a few unexpected and unwelcome guests. You've got me pinned against a door. Do you really think if I just wanted us to make slow sweet love I'd be letting us have one another here - like this. There's plenty of time for that. I just want you right now, to feel you, to let you overwhelm my senses. For you to, yes, take me like I know you can," her chest and cheeks bloom with her flush. It's one of the things I love best about her - innocence mixed with boldness - a minx who matches my every want and desire.
Permission granted, I can't let down my newly wedded wife. "Put one hand on my shoulders and then touch any part of yourself you want to with your other hand," I instruct, my hands cupping her buttocks and hips for leverage and stability. I tip her pelvis toward me, pull out of her almost entirely and then push straight back into her. She gasps, her head falling back into the door, her eyes falling shut.
She palms her breast, rolling her peak with her free hand. I set a fast pace, pulling out pushing back into her, making each of us moan, gasp and pant each time. My hands bite into the soft flesh of her hips and thighs. She'll probably have bruises, but I can't bring myself to care about that now. Her hand leaves her breast, sliding down her stomach to rub at her sensitive nub. I can feel her fingers on me as I move in and out of her. It feels exquisite.
"Francis, more," she breathes.
"As my queen commands," I smirk, dipping to capture her mouth for a moment, biting down on her full bottom lip like I love to do. I pick up the pace, making slightly shallower thrusts, my hips banging into hers.
She's crossed her legs around me, her heel grinding into my buttock. She's now able to meet my thrusts with her own, making me redouble my efforts. Her cries of elation driving me.
"Look at me," I implore. I want to see her beautiful eyes when I reach my pinnacle. I can feel myself tightening, my apex near, the way she's fluttering and clamping around me tells me she's close too. She pulls her head up, looking straight into my eyes. I see passion and need and want and awe. But most of all I see love - for me, for us.
I push up into her one last time, her walls clamping around me like a vise, pushing me over the edge, her name falling off my lips. She's right after me, puffing out my name as she milks me for everything I can give her.
I love that face of hers as she climaxes. Her whole face freezes for a moment as if in pain, before I can see the absolute ecstasy of her fall.
My legs give out as I come down from our high, my knees first thudding hard into the door and then following her as she collapses on the floor. I twine us together, her legs wrapped around my waist, our arms wrapped around one another. "Unf," she grunts into my neck, biting down hard enough to make me yelp. "I tried to forget how much I missed this," she mumbles into my neck.
I have to agree. I tried to forget in the bodies of other women and in too many bottles of wine. But it's hard to forget someone you love with everything in your entire being; and moments of perfect connection where the two of you seemed the only people in the entire world.
---
We've only made it as far as the couch, moving it directly in front of the fire. The fire hadn't been tended this night as it had been assumed we would spend it in the ceremonial consummation chambers. I had to stoke it and then build it up again. Now it roars and dances to provide warmth. Most of the chamber is still cold, but we're fine here close to the fire, though neither of us have bothered with any clothes. They're unneeded. We just need the fire, blankets and each other to stay warm - though there's just enough nip still in the air for her dusty peaks to remain erect, which I love. The kitchens have provided us with the requested wine - a warm spicy mulled one - pears, veined cheese, bread and a roasted chicken.
She's just the way I love her best - hair wild, cheeks and breasts flushed, leaning into me, blanket around her waist. I reach over to pinch a nipple. She rewards me with a gasp and a moan of my name.
"I'm hungry," she pouts. "Feed me, so I can have my way with you this time."
I capture her lips, feeling myself stir again at her suggestive words. "Promise?"
She breaks into a wicked smile, pulling her bottom lip through her teeth, making me jealous. That lip is mine to bite. Her small hand finds its way under the blanket to palm me, changing my stirring quickly into hardening. "Mmmmm, definitely."
FIN
Endnotes:
1) Thank you to Justcallmesmitty for her always fab beta skills, even under the weather. Xoxoxoxo
2) The goat blood bit is just to humor myself, and to suggest a degrees of separation connection to the too long gone Leith.
Comments and reviews are greatly appreciated.