Chapter Text
A full moon had passed since the glorious day of the wedding. The union of the Crown Prince of Alderaan and The Crown Princess of Naboo under the blessing of the church had brought an end to the bloody civil war while uniting their lands with joy. Naboo’s beloved Princess Arwyn–Rey to her closest confidants–was wed to Alderaan’s heir to the throne, Prince Benedict. After long years of war, their marriage and the hard-won peace it symbolized was celebrated with a tourney, a full fortnight of feasting, laughter, and music.
In the heart of it, however, Arwyn and Benedict sat quiet, still little more than strangers, wed when they had barely gotten to know one another.
Mayhaps a few glances through her veil didn’t seem enough to get to know her future husband, Arwyn contemplated over breakfast. She ground her silver fork in the middle of her custard-filled pastry.
The newlyweds broke their fast at the oak high table, every sound echoing around them in the vast dining hall. Benedict’s dark locks framed his face as he sat in his neatly tucked black tunic, red and gold embroidery stretched across his wide shoulders. Rey glared at him for a few more seconds than she expected, remembering the previous night in their marriage bed.
“Our family needs an heir, Arwyn”, her grandfather’s words echoed in her memory as she stood by the window, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Earlier that day, Benedict had mentioned that he’d be visiting her chambers again in the evening. They had consummated their marriage, however awkward and uncomfortable, and had…joined together multiple times and yet anxious anticipation overwhelmed her senses. When Prince Benedict entered the room wearing only his white nightshirt and black breeches, Rey’s heart grew wilder.
Fear.
Excitement.
Quickly, she climbed under the covers and watched Benedict sit on the other side, peeking at him over the coverlet, pulled up to her chin lest he think her too eager. He gently tucked himself into the bed next to her, the support ropes beneath creaking as he moved. His body heat radiated, an echo of her core, and his now-familiar scent was enchanting. Rey couldn’t initiate their intimacy but tonight she had enough courage to turn herself towards him. He too laid on his side and stared into her eyes.
Rey admitted it to herself. He was a beautiful man, boyish in her eyes despite his ten years beyond her. Before they married, Rey remembered him with a rugged beard, longer hair and rougher shape. War had made a man out of him. Tonight, however, his gentleness emanated safety.
Benedict tucked a strand of her chestnut hair that had fallen behind her ear.
“What are your plans for the day?”
His low voice interrupted Rey from the memories of the previous night. She looked up from her plate with a faint blush over her cheeks. Since they were newly wed, they were allowed a period of being alone and thus were spending time away from Queen Leia’s court. Rey didn’t have many responsibilities beyond begetting a male heir to The Prince of Alderaan.
“I will be spending some time with Lady Bazine and Lady Kaydel on perfecting our embroideries. There is much for me to learn from needlework. Mayhaps when that boring activity ends, I will spend some time reading.” She sighed gently pushing her plate back.
Benedict coughed and wiped a hint of laughter from his mouth. “That sounds lovely. I will be in my study looking through correspondence from the court and have some letters to write.”
Rey gulped down the rest of her mead. Their life was very exciting .
“We could go horseback riding in the afternoon, would you like that?” Benedict asked with a slightly lower voice. She watched in fascination as his tongue wet his lips. “There is much I would love to show you of the countryside. I spent a great deal of my childhood in this small castle. Some of the most pleasant of my years.”
Rey gazed at him. Despite his angular face, stoic demeanor and violence on the battlefield where he was known to be one of the best swordsmen, her lord husband, Benedict, Crown Prince of Alderaan, was one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen.
Rey straightened her posture, almost squirming at the curious feeling between her legs at the thought of curling her arms around his rough shoulders and strong body.
Benedict breathed into her neck, the warmth engulfing her, and his weight was soothing on top of her. She longed to see him naked but tonight, she was only bold enough to run her small palms across his shoulders and at the nape of his neck. The feeling of their coupling was uncomfortable, full, too full, and somehow it had been eased only slightly over this past moon. Rey felt safe under the covers and completely covered in her nightgown. Benedict never forced her or protested in pulling her clothes, only moving the fabric necessary for the act between husband and wife.
He was understanding, gentle and tall.
“Arwyn,” he whispered a few times repeatedly as he grunted with his large member pierced inside her. Rey lifted herself up rubbing her nose underneath his neck, and around his ear. The musk and cedar ensconced her senses and for a split moment, a different heat grew in her core, the place where they were joined. Rey grew bold and pulled him down, almost urging him to go faster. ‘I’m not a flower ready to break,’ she wanted to utter, and yet, all she could allow herself were the few tender kisses she planted across Benedict's face.
“You are beautiful.” He whispered.
Later came his short climax, subdued and quiet, his groan muffled against her neck and pillow, almost as if scared to create a scene. Rey closed her legs tightly once he removed himself out of her, trying to keep his seed for the heir that her grandfather desperately needed. Benedict never left her side after their coupling nights. He would stay next to her, caress her shoulder, whisper sweet words and most nights, she’d wake up in his strong arms, warm and safe, at peace in a way she had rarely known in her life.
“Arwyn? Rey?” His inquiry brought her back from the memories of the previous evening. “Are you alright? You haven’t answered…”
“I don’t feel well. Perhaps another day we can go outside.”
Benedict’s face fell and he retreated back into his chair. “Very well.” He got up, pushing the heavy chair behind him. With a little hesitancy at first he approached her, planting a quick kiss over her temple, almost as if fearful of the consequence, and quickly left the dining hall.
Rey looked after him as he strode outside. long-legged, and sighed back into her chair. He was a very loving man, quiet most of the time, but she thought about her own shortcomings. Did other royal women pleasure their husbands? Mayhaps if she had a little more courage and less shyness… After some contemplating, Rey decided that the daily needlework session could be a great opportunity to learn a thing or two from her ladies-in-waiting.
***
The heat of the afternoon sun illuminated the room as Princess Rey, Lady Bazine and Lady Kaydel sat around a tapestry frame with their needles in hand. Their fingers guided the silk threads to create intricate patterns as they softly chatted and sipped their mead.
Lady Kaydel, youngest of the three, took a quick break from a particularly difficult section of the embroidery, stretching her knuckles in discomfort. “If only our Lords knew of the hassles we endure in granting them a comely home and soft touch. Yet they spare no delicacy in the way they treat us in the bedchamber.”
Rey’s face blushed red at the last sentence as she tried focusing on the stitching of her purple flower.
Lady Bazine scoffed with an amused smirk, “Ah, yes, they are rough but sometimes that is pleasurable.”
“Lady Bazine!” Kaydel gasped with a giggle, and Rey beamed with equal shyness. “That tongue of yours! You speak too boldly!”
Bazine smiled at her embroidery, carefully drawing another tight stitch. “My Lord husband likes my tongue–and I his!” Kaydel sputtered, coughing as she choked on the contents of her goblet. “I speak the truth,” Bazine added, “You will see it, Kaydel, when you get married. Forget these tourney Knights that you kiss under the walls or behind the doors.”
“Bazine!” Kaydel hissed and visibly corrected her posture in discomfort, eyeing Rey who nodded along, not too shocked at the revelation. Perhaps she had suspected it. Kissing isn’t a sin, Rey thought. She, too, had kissed many Knights and Squires as a maiden, before her marriage, but no one had claimed her maidenhood other than Benedict. “Apologies, Princess.”
“It is alright, Lady Kaydel. I understand,” Rey replied. “I have seen the way men and boys alike look at you around here. As long as you keep yourself safe and protect your heart.”
“Or let the undeserving under your skirts,” Bazine added, wicked tongue loosened again as Kaydel huffed.
The Ladies returned to their work, but it was only a minute before Kaydel broke the silence, “What about love then? Wouldn’t a man be delicate if he loves his lady wife?”
Lady Bazine took a sip of her mead before replying, “My sweet Kaydel, love is just one of the flavors or perhaps the threads that we get in the potion of marital intercourse, or perhaps intercourse between any man and woman. In my experience, love doesn’t change much of the outcome.”
Lady Kaydel giggled at the word intercourse and her plump cheeks visibly reddened
, before Lady Bazine continued. “However, there is some pleasure to be obtained from roughness in the bedchamber.You will experience it soon enough.”
Rey raised her head again at that last sentence, as she slowly lowered her stitch. “Roughness? Why would anyone want to be hurt in the bedchamber?”
Lady Bazine smirked all too knowingly, “My Lady, there are so many ways you can get pleasure from... the act . Sometimes, my Lord husband and I practice such things...” She set her needle aside and leaned forward, hands clasped in her lap.
“Oh? Pray tell, what would those be, Bazine?” Lady Kaydel perked up, lowering her needle as well.
Rey tried not to be bothered, or to seem too interested in the conversation. However, she surmised that there may be some… things she could learn from Lady Bazine concerning her shortcomings in bed with her husband. Although they were an arranged match as was often the case, Bazine and Sir Trudgen, one of Benedict’s commanders and a Lord in his own right, were openly affectionate, genuinely glad to share one another’s company.
“Well, some men or women find it intriguing and pleasurable to be hurt,” Lady Bazine huddled closer towards the ladies sitting across the tapestry. Her voice lowered to a whisper, “choking,” Lady Kaydel gasped with a giggle, “or spanking.” Rey blushed covering her mouth with her hand.
“Spanking? Why would a woman want to be beaten during intercourse? Is she to be punished for her failings in bed?” Rey wondered.
“Oh, not at all, My Lady, it becomes a wicked game between the husband and wife. Mischievous, like a game of punishment and reward, no true harm or anger in the course. It becomes stimulating for both to experience spanking during…”
Lady Kaydel gasped with her eyes wide open at the revelation. “I haven’t even given my maidenhood to anyone yet you speak of spanking..”
“You need not follow my advice, but I speak the truth. In fact, I ask my Lord Husband to spank me some nights just to add extra excitement into our lovemaking,” Lady Bazine added with a laugh. “Some nights I vex him until he makes the choice for me, without any need of asking.”
Rey’s eyes widened and the wheels turned in her head. Would Benedict like such a thing? Would he spank her in bed? Rey ought to learn more about different ways of spicing up her bedroom, if only she could be bolder.
“It is a game of power, trust and submission. It feels liberating and yet exhilarating,” Bazine concluded her sentence, face flushed pink and eyes shining.
Lady Kaydel’s giggle echoed in the room as their conversation concluded, until she turned to Rey who was sitting idly with a smile, her mind back into the purple flower on her needlework. “And what of you and His Royal Highness, Prince Benedict, Princess?”
Lady Bazine giggled eagerly, pulling her chair closer to listen-in.
Rey looked up, “Of us? What of us?”
“Do you play games with your Lord Husband in your bedchamber? Or perhaps, he’s gentler than other men? Some boys love to draw blood from my lips even when we kiss.”
Rey contemplated for a second. Yes, Benedict was very gentle, kind and thoughtful. She melted under his touch—or perhaps burned. “We do not play games, I am more reserved in these matters.”
Bazine and Kaydel threw a glance at one another.
Perhaps they had seen and heard their lovemaking. The Prince and Princess’s bedchamber had ‘secret’ peepholes sometimes used by their ladies-in-waiting to track on the whereabouts of their Royal Highnesses on the orders of the Queen. And, mayhaps, Kaydel and Bazine had used those peepholes with more leisure than allowed.
Would they do so? In some misguided attempt at ‘service’ to the royal heirs?
“How so?” Lady Bazine prodded.
“I do not like talking about this matter. I feel…” Rey glanced between her needlework and the ladies who seemed eager to help her out. Finally, she broke down, “I feel I am not fulfilling him… there… in bed.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “When I was about ten-and-fifteen, I witnessed some ways that my ladies in waiting at Naboo would behave with their own Lord Husbands, Squires or Knights…and I once stumbled upon a kitchen maid…” She shook her head. “The act seemed more pleasurable to the woman, more lively, active? Yet I find myself rigid and shy. Benedict, bless him, he is very kind and gentle. Does he want to be this way? Does he want to spank me? I am confused as to what to do.”
Ladies Bazine and Kaydel contemplated the words in silence for a few seconds as the mood settled, washing over the three.
“Have you asked his thoughts about it?”Bazine asked reluctantly. “Mayhaps he could… teach you? Show you what he likes and discover what you enjoy in return?”
The princess scowled. “I don’t like the thought that he’s bedded other women.”
Kaydel grinned, “That is very sweet, My Lady. You love him.”
“Love? No, no, no. I barely know him. He’s a good man, true, but love exists only in books of poetry,” Rey sighed.
“Hmm,” Bazine sat back, “There are many ways you can give and gain pleasure. The most important part is to relax and enjoy the process. When I was newly wed, I was a little timid at first, but then I tried to learn. I could give you some teachings but there is also a book in the library.”
“A book?” Rey wondered.
“Yes,” Bazine whispered, the naughty gleam in her eyes once more. “With instructions. And drawings too.”
Lady Kaydel audibly gasped. Did she even know of the existence of such tomes? Books that could… aid in the acts of coupling?
“This book is banned from many parts of the realm, as there are details that go against the customs of Alderaan. However, when we moved here a few moons back, I found a copy of it in this library. Mayhaps, His Royal Highness Prince Benedict was fond of it.” Bazine smiled, sharp and dangerous, as the Princess fell into the trap thus set.
Rey hated the idea of Benedict even glancing at naked drawings of other women. He was hers. No one else’s.
‘ A Maiden’s Adventures’ is the title of the book, My Lady. I may have read it one too many times, but it is in the library of your Lord Husband. You should be able to find it, if you desire such a thing, of course.”
Rey contemplated the thought of reading such a book. Although asking Lady Bazine would have been much easier than reading instructions, she felt too timid to talk about the specifics of the act. Of her husband.
Spanking, however, never left her mind; a lewd curiosity, yet to be practiced.
***
A grunt and a stirring of dust.
The clang of blade on blade.
The air smelled of sweat and steel, as the Prince grappled his men, others in the yard practicing with dead blades. Ushar spat and swiped at his mouth, gestured to His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince of Alderaan. “Point,” he said, then turned his head and spat again. He touched his swelling lip and hissed.
“What was it you said?” Trudgen called. “Perhaps a regular fucking would calm him, I believe that was your claim.”
Ushar made a crude gesture, eyes still on the Prince as they circled one another, looking for an opening. Ben feinted left, but Ushar knew all too well what to expect and dodged. Ben tried again, the men rolling into the dirt, struggling for the upper hand. At last, Ben’s sword at his neck and new bruising at his jaw, Ushar yielded.
Ben helped him up, and they joined the others. A page brought water, young but long enough in service that he had learned if bandages or the court physician were needed the noblemen would tell him so.
Prince Benedict sat among his men, perhaps most comfortable—most himself—there of all places. Dubbed the Knights of Ren, they were his vassals, his protectors, his brothers in every way but blood.
“Do noblewomen differ, in some way, from the poor classes?” Ben asked.
“Money and food, a roof over their head and a different sort of labor, I suppose,” Sir Kuruk mused, brows raised as he cut his eyes at the others.
“No, I–” Ben began, then paused. Surely they could be trusted? These men who had spilled blood at his side, some of it their own. The prince glanced about the training yard, ensuring privacy for his next words. “Physically, in body, are they…do they differ somehow?”
“Of course they do,” Sir Vicrul affirmed, though it was less comforting than the prince might have hoped, as the knight was quick to add, “Much the same as men differ one from another.”
“No, not…” He sighed, pushed his sweat-damp hair back from his face. “My wife does not enjoy our marriage bed.”
He appreciated that they did not laugh.
“When you say she does not enjoy it,” Trudgen said, cautious and careful. “No part of it?”
Ben shifted uncomfortably. Was it a betrayal, to share with them? He was a prince, and Rey his wife. One day she would be their queen. He sighed. Who else could he ask?
“She seems content when I kiss her, and she allows me to remain beside her and sleep. Sometimes I think she will touch me, but then she never does. She is a dutiful wife, but I fear I am disappointing her.”
“What do you do? How do you touch her? Where ?” Trudgen asked, clearly trying to build to some detail that had yet escaped the prince.
Ben frowned. “She is shy. Modest. Even a kiss makes her blush as if she were still a maid. She waits beneath the covers, and I touch her as little as possible, so that she is not embarrassed or discomfited.”
Groans rang out around him.
“You don’t prepare her?” Ap’lek exclaimed.
“Has no woman taught him?” Cardo muttered, and Vicrul smacked the older man in the chest.
“We have failed you, Highness,” Ushar said, although he seemed to be struggling to contain his laughter.
“What comes of only learning from tradeswomen along the campaign,” Trudgen muttered. “Him a princeling and them in it for coin, who among them would have complained?” He leaned forward. “Here, give me that,” he said, hand held out for an arrow in need of new fletching. He used it to scratch lines in the dirt, the crude outline of a woman, Ushar and Kuruk muttering suggestions and corrections. He drew another picture, an oval sort of shape. A boat, perhaps? Ushar took the arrow, adding more lines, and then leaning forward, pinching the dirt into a little mound at one end.
“Women–all of them, not just those with royal blood–require special attention in order to enjoy themselves. Particularly when faced with that battering ram between your legs,” he muttered. “Kisses are good for a start, but you have to pay favor to far more than her mouth.”
Ushar and Trudgen continued, the others adding in their own commentary and advice, and the prince felt sick. Betrayed.
It had become quickly apparent that the poorly rendered “boat” was a crude representation of a woman’s most intimate parts.
How had no one…he stood abruptly, as Ap’lek pointed to the small dirt mound, saying something about a “little man in a boat” and waves, and honestly it was all too much for the prince.
He stood without another word, striding directly into the castle.
He needed to find Rey. Apologize. Perhaps put to good use some of his newly acquired knowledge and advice, if she would let him.
He paused outside their apartments, turning and leaving. No, no, it was best if he approached this with care. Shy and delicate, she might need time, and surely he would need to ease her into the idea of letting him look at her, kiss and touch her, beyond the basic mechanics of their coupling. He would give her that time, show her he could take care, be gentle. Perhaps she would come to welcome his touch.
***
His wife was avoiding him.
Perhaps not, but it certainly felt so to Prince Benedict.
Again she denied him when he asked to take her riding, to show her the surrounding lands. He had hoped that perhaps away from the castle she might take her ease, and he could attempt to discuss his shortcomings as a husband, begin to make his apologies.
And there was the fact that the prince simply enjoyed his wife’s company. Arwyn was intelligent, educated as well as any man despite the vast majority insisting she should not be. She was beautiful. She was kind. She had a bright laugh and he suspected a streak of wicked humor she kept mostly to herself.
He wanted her to share it.
He wanted her to share everything with him. Greedy, perhaps, but he was the Crown Prince of Alderaan, one day to be king, with his Arwyn queen at his side. He would like to believe she could be happy there.
She sat at his side at mealtimes, shared his cup and trencher, and she had not refused him her bed, at least for sleeping.
He found it encouraging, the cast of her eyes when he turned, the spots of color high in her cheeks. Perhaps she, too, wanted their marriage to be one of affection, a marriage in truth as well as for the sake of alliance.
He watched her depart for their chambers in the evening, hurriedly made his own excuses to those remaining behind for the night’s entertainments. Tonight. He had decided it would be tonight that he would begin the work of applying his lessons, of wooing his wife.
She was not yet in bed when he entered their chambers, her ladies and a maid hurrying away when he entered the room. Rey looked down at the floor, then glanced at him before she stood, hands at the belt of her dressing gown, although in the warmth of the season she scarcely needed it.
“No, stay there,” Benedict found himself saying. “I shall attend you, in the absence of your ladies.”
Rey gasped.
Rey…when had he begun to think of her that way, call her by that name even in his head?
“Unless you do not wish for me to touch you?” he added, the sudden pale of her cheek a pain to him.
Rey faced the mirror on the table, watching his reflection approach. He paused just behind her, unable to see his own face within the frame unless he leaned. She pointed to the hairbrush on the table, hastily set down by Kaydel as they left. The ornate handle was all but invisible in his hand, but this was a task he could do.
Ben brushed his wife’s hair, enjoying the silky glide and fall of the strands over his skin. With one hand he guided the bristles, the other sectioning her hair, or simply petting her like a cat. He glanced on occasion at the mirror, watched as her eyelids fluttered shut and her lips parted. When done, he returned the brush to her table, and his hands to her hair. She moved slightly, surprised.
“Benedict? What are you–”
He smiled, watching himself weave the strands, fingers remembering this even though it had been years since he learned. It wasn’t his best work, and would likely fall loose by morning, but the simple braid for sleeping and the smaller ones at her crown spoke of things he as yet could not form into words.
Ben tied off his work with a strip of cloth and rested his hands on his wife’s shoulders. She gasped as his thumbs stroked the sides of her neck, traced lines of tension to shoulder, back; hummed as he worked the knots free, her eyes heavy lidded and body relaxed.
“Come to bed, little wife,” he said softly. “Let me touch you.”
So relaxed was she, that she did not even question that until she had removed her robe and slipped beneath the covers, turning her head to watch him.
She fidgeted beneath the sheets of linen as he stripped, making use of the ewer of lightly scented water and her soap to remove the grime and sweat of the day, another bit of advice from Sir Trudgen (not that Ben was one to fall into bed without washing if he could, but the use of Rey’s soap, a familiar and hopefully comforting scent, with the bonus that he would smell like her, a sign to all that he belonged to someone…hopefully).
He returned to the bed, amused at the way his wife had stubbornly rolled to her side, facing away from him when he disrobed. He picked up the shirt he had worn to bed the night before, then dropped it to the floor.
“Are you awake, little wife?”
She nodded.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
She stiffened, shoulders and neck tight once more, then slowly rolled to face him.
“Am I so unbearable to behold?” he asked, attempting to keep his tone light and playful, but his body was more interested in the soft skin so close and yet so far away, and his voice had taken a deep, rough edge as his own need grew. The downside of touching her, he supposed, even something so simple as brushing her hair or rubbing tension from her shoulders.
Her eyes tracked a slow path over his torso, face aflame but never looking away. Ben held the corner of the sheet before his manhood, concerned she might be frightened or overwhelmed. He held the covers aloft, slipping in beside her.
“I…what of your nightshirt, husband?”
“Too hot, even at night,” he insisted. “You could remove yours as well.”
Her breath caught, but she made no other sound, eyes wide and luminous as he moved as close as he dared and placed a hand on her arm, trailing it above the covers, tracing her body with his touch. She shivered and tilted her chin up, accepting the kiss he offered. Ben reached under the bedding, found her and tugged her nightgown up, settling the material at her waist.
Rey hissed when his hand rested on her hip, and he stroked her gently with his thumb, delighting in the softness of her skin. Slowly, lightly, he drew his fingers up her side, pushing her nightgown higher, drawing shapes and swirls over the skin of her belly until she flinched away.
“Husband, what are you doing? I don’t–”
“Touching you,” he said, his own heart pounding as he traced her navel, slid down, until he felt crisp hair, heat radiating from her body. “Shh, hush now, Arwyn, my little wife, my Rey. It pleases me to feel you.” She nodded, and he kissed away the frown lines on her brow, pressed lips to the end of her nose, her cheeks, claimed her mouth again and licked her lower lip at the same time he moved his hand, cupping her there, between her legs.
Hot.
Wet.
Oh, Force take him if he be unmanned!
He caught her gasp in his mouth, teased until she met him, pressed her tongue tentatively to his, and that was when he traced her with his fingertips, parting her and stroking the heated slickness there. He trailed his fingers over her, learning her by touch, watched her face when they parted from kisses. Color flamed in her cheeks, her breath coming quickly, tiny noises escaping from her parted lips.
Careful, careful…
His fingers found her opening, that tiny space that somehow magically fit his cock, and he watched her carefully for any sign of discomfort, but she shifted, moved her legs further apart and her hips rolled to meet him.
It took all his control not to rip the coverlet back, to bare her to his eyes, as she stared at him in her desperation, chasing something hitherto unknown to her. He worked her more, frowning when she calmed, trying again when she gasped or moaned, and when she grabbed his shoulder, fingers digging in, he repeated his last action.
She cried out, moving about in the bed, panting and lovely, and welcomed him when he settled between her thighs.
***
As the days passed following the educational needlework session with her ladies, Rey’s mind raced with wonder over A Maiden’s Adventures .
Preoccupied.
She had tried going to the library but most oft turned back on her heels in fear of getting caught—and pure shyness. But after the new, strange, wondrous sensations of the previous night’s lovemaking, she found a renewed determination.
She would seek out her answers in the book.
It was a sweltering day, heat rising not only in the air but also between her legs. It worsened every time her thoughts strayed to her husband, or the way he had touched her the previous night. Her mind raced in circles as her skin burned, remembering the feeling of his furnace-like skin against hers. The memory of his fingers inside her rippled electricity from her core up and around her limbs. The urge and the need for him grew exponentially. His bare chest etched in her memory awakened a carnal need to bite him.
Mayhaps it was nearing the time of the moon for her. She’d heard from other ladies that during a moon, on specific days, a woman might go through difficult heat. The husband helped with putting out the fire burning in the loins. Rey had memorized the way her husband’s fingers had touched her down there, where she throbbed the most.
So, on this day, Rey donned a particularly low cut burgundy dress that accentuated her bosom. Her breasts were smaller than some and yet this dress pushed it up through the stitches. She had fashioned her hair into a messy sort of roll, airing her burning neck in the heat.
After the afternoon tea, chatting, and pleasantries with her Ladies, Rey excused herself for some reflective reading. As she walked through the stone halls, she made sure no one was following her save the guards around the doors. When she reached the library, she pushed the old wooden door, wincing as it closed behind with a loud clang. Slamming would assuredly draw unwanted attention.
The library was empty.
At first, she glanced around in the large entryway and then set out to find the book in the long, narrow room. She bypassed scrolls and letters, glanced at maps and trinkets, and ran her fingers over the first area of the bookshelf as they were arranged alphabetically. After some time, she found the book and paused, studying the seemingly innocuous spine and then grabbed it after some hesitation.
It was smaller than average yet thick, no larger than a Psalter. Her cheeks heated in illicit shame, to be thinking of a devotional while holding such a tome.
She clasped the book to her bosom, covering the title despite the empty library, cheeks warm with more than the summer air. She roamed around, finally settling on a large, cushioned chair facing the open window. The breeze was fine as she glared outside at the green countryside.
After glancing around her once more to ensure she was alone, she opened the book and immediately gasped at the drawing inside the cover. The author was very talented in showcasing the nude body of a woman. Delicate with her hands covering her midsection yet her breasts and the patch of hair between her legs were visible. Rey wondered whether Benedict had read or looked through this book as a young boy growing up in this castle. The thought made her physically giggle and yet she felt a sharp pang of jealousy at the same time.
The book was a lewd story of a high born maiden’s sexual adventures with squires, knights, lords, sometimes multiple men at the same time, and even her ladies in waiting. This so-called ‘maiden’ traveled around the realm equally engaging with various activities. The acts were described in detail and with such vivacity that Rey couldn’t take her eyes away as she gripped the book tightly.
As she continued reading, Rey became too aware of the soft fabric of her dress brushing against her skin as she shifted, the weight of the layers on her aching breasts. The air thickened as heat traveled up her arms like zings of electricity settling deep inside her chest while the throb echoed overwhelmingly between her legs. Her pulse quickened and with each description of a man’s strong muscles encompassing the lithe body of ‘the maiden’, Rey envisioned her Benedict : black waves of hair framing his face, the way his muscles bent and twisted whenever he practiced in the yard with his men.
Her breath hitched as she imagined what his manhood would look like. The bold descriptions and the drawings of the book somewhat opened up her imagination. The warm sensation thrilled her as her mind wondered what it would feel like to touch Benedict’s bare chest, trace her fingertips over the curves of his muscles, and perhaps hold his hard member in her hand just like the heroine of this book. The heroine stepped even further by putting the member in her mouth. Rey didn’t think she’d be as bold as that, however. Perhaps her Benedict wasn’t the sort of man who would enjoy that anyway. After all, he had never let her so much as touch him there. Perhaps not all men found it pleasing. After all, there were things described in the book as pleasurable that Rey did not believe she would enjoy at all.
The book grew more interesting at a particular chapter where the heroine allowed men of a pleasure house to spank her. Lady Bazine had discussed the same concept earlier. The heroine enjoyed it immensely with detailed descriptions. These men loved spanking her backside as they took turns in…the princess swallowed a gasp and glanced about the empty room before returning her gaze to the page to continue reading. The men took turns in fucking their maiden. Rey inhaled and exhaled as she read some of the more vulgar descriptions of the acts of coupling between a man and a woman. However, the words washed over her as she flushed, biting her lip, grinding her legs and gripping the edges of the book.
So distracted by the images conjured by the stories and her own reaction to them, she didn’t hear the person who was creeping up behind her until it was too late.
“What are you reading?” A chipper yet deep voice, too familiar, peaked from behind her. Startled, Rey jumped back in her chair, quickly shutting the book tightly.
Benedict.
“It’s…I was reading.” Rey stood up, awkwardly dancing around him with the book clutched tightly against her heaving bosom. She was afraid that her flushed redness would give her away.
Benedict didn’t crowd her however, but only observed her intently with a slight smirk on his face. His cheeks were red, mayhaps due to the immense heat outside, and the neckline of his white shirt under the black tunic had been loosened with his pale chest peeking through.
Did he know what she’d been reading? How long had he been there?
“You are blushing, my bride.What were you reading?” Benedict extended his hand to seemingly feel the temperature of her forehead when Rey stepped back with the book now held tightly behind her.
“Just a book, and uh...the heat... It’s very hot today, as you know.”
“Right.” Benedict examined her face all too knowingly. Rey was panicking internally against the shame of him knowing she was reading such salacious tales. “Would you like me to ask for the maid to draw a cold bath for you?” He smirked, leaned over her almost as if he might kiss her mouth and yet he paused before he was within reach. The smile on his face was knowing. Smug. “What kind of a book?”
Rey reddened like bloody meat left under the sun. “It’s a history book.”
“Which history?” Benedict smirked.
Did he know? Rey was in a death grip.
“Well, not only history; it’s anatomy, astrology, physics. I’m curious. Curious about…some anatomical parts...how the world works and such…”
“I didn’t know you had such vast interests. Perhaps I am also curious.”
“I just need to, ah…” Rey interrupted him, wiggling her body as she freed herself from his direct presence and walked fast, opening the door of the library. The book was firmly in her hands, however.
“Where are you going? Arwyn?” Benedict called after her as she left the library.
Rey didn’t notice it then, but as she hurried through the hallway gathering her skirts in one hand to move faster as she stepped into the courtyard crossing over to go to their bedchamber, his footsteps thudded behind her.
Benedict followed her with sure steps as Rey quickened. “I worry for you, my wife.”
“I am well, husband. Fine!” Rey screamed behind her as she ran up the stony steps towards their bedchamber. The ladies and stewards stared at them as they brushed past their people.
Finally, Rey reached their bedchamber and closed the heavy door behind her. She exhaled sharply and tried to find a place to hide the book. It was too late however when Benedict entered, pushing the door once more and setting the latch.
His disheveled waves, curls and raven dark hair flew about his heat-addled crimson face. Her heart raced at the sight of him and her mind wandered towards the heroine of the book who’d taken advantage of such a beautiful man.
This man was her husband, hers by law and by God, technically.
Rey stuffed the book into a drawer and turned to face Benedict, her bosom heaving.
Her husband ran a hand through his hair, Rey gulped, and he walked towards her quizzically. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing!”
“Do not lie to me, little wife,” he chided. “What were you doing?” Benedict crowded her, pressing her into the drawer cabinet behind her as he entered her space. She hadn’t noticed but her cleavage was more open through the hubbub of their chase, the low neck of her gown stretched and pulled down.
“Rey.” His voice was so low, almost a whisper. “No falsehoods.” His breath hitched, and she could feel it on her burning skin. His eyes were honey colored, a stern sound in his voice that threw daggers around her body. He smelled of salt and sun, clouding her judgment. And when he rested his arms on either side of her on the cabinet, Rey’s knees buckled with their lips ever so close.
“Ben…” Rey panted, watching his skin perspire. He craned his neck down dragging his nose along her jawline, almost distracting. His kiss was tender as he pressed his lips at the curve of her jaw. Rey couldn’t breathe as she dug her fingers into his muscular arms. Ben dragged his lips slightly upwards then down her neck. Rey moaned loudly as his tongue licked at the softest flesh under her earlobe. Her hands climbed up his neck hanging off him. His lips pressed and tongue lapped at her skin insistently, almost violently, needing her.
It was sudden and scary. Rey gasped when he grabbed her by the legs, lifted her up with one swift motion and threw her on his right shoulder, leaving her dangling helplessly behind him.
“Benedict!” She screamed then, kicking her legs. “Husband, what are you doing?”
“Just a second.” He struggled in holding her up on his shoulder as she squirmed at the same time as he tried opening the drawer.
“Unhand me, Benedict! Put me down! Now!” Rey wiggled her body under his death grip trying to shield the book from him. “You have no right to look at what I’m reading. How dare you?”
“I am your husband,” he said, entirely too loudly. “I have every right.” She squealed and Benedict started laughing as he turned the book around. He seemed to be too familiar with the topic. Rey huffed and puffed and part of her hair fell down from the updo.
“Aw, you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you, my little wife.” Benedict guffawed in amusement as he spun her around the room.
“It is none of your business, husband! Put me down, or else!”
“Or else what?” Benedict threw the book over the study desk nonchalantly, and walked towards their bed. “You need to be punished for this. You’ve been a very bad girl.”
He sat, pulling her down and across his lap, face down and her backside in the air. Very undignified.
“Punished? How dare you? You can’t punish me!” she protested, although they both knew well he could do whatever he pleased, both as her husband and Crown Prince of the realm.
Rey protested again, moving her body, but his grip was so strong and tight. She felt it then, the first slap on her buttocks. “Ow!” She screamed at the sting, though it didn’t hurt as much as she had expected. Perhaps her skirts had absorbed the blow.
“Disobedient wives need correction; to be taught a lesson, and not lessons in how to please multiple, random men. You need to be a good girl.” Benedict slapped her buttocks again, gentler this time and then deposited her face down on the bed.
Her hair ribbon fluttered free, and her loose locks draped around her face as she tried to gain her senses, She felt his body caging over her top with his breath behind her ear. “You’ve been a bad girl, my naughty little wife, and do you know what bad girls need?”
Rey gulped hard as she felt his hard manhood press into her through their layers. The excitement was thrilling.
“What do bad girls need?” She heard herself ask him tagging onto the game.
Rey squirmed a little, enjoying the feel of him pressing against her buttocks through their clothing. The sensation–even simply the realization–sent shock waves across her body. He was pleased with her, pleased to be pressed against her.
Pleased at their game and perhaps even at the act of spanking her. After all, it was he who began the talk of punishment for a naughty wife, who chased after her and hauled her over his shoulder, tossed her to their bed.
She wanted him to spank her again.
However, what happened next was not on either of their daily schedules. Rey couldn’t see him other than feeling him move away from her, the weight and press of him suddenly gone from her legs and backside.She felt his hands lift up her skirts until her legs and buttocks were exposed save for the closest layers of fabric to her skin, the lightweight, white stockings cinched with ribbon at her thighs, and the thin undergarment underneath. Rey shivered at the change in temperature and the kiss of air on her skin cooling her body.
She twisted herself trying to see what he was doing but he stopped her. “Stay there. Like that.”
Rey’s face burned hot as she felt his hands trace over the backs of her legs, feeling the fine fabric of her stockings, then up and inside her legs. She couldn’t see him but could feel his weight shift on the bed as he got to his knees and caressed the inside of her thighs.
He didn’t say a word, only uttered a few grunts. His nearness and sounds aroused her and his touches weren’t helping to sequester the heat that had been bubbling inside her all morning. She exclaimed when his hot mouth and nose pressed there…there, against her clothed intimate parts that only his fingers, occasionally her fingers, and his manhood had ever explored during their couplings. Rey wiggled, trying to turn, “What are you doing?”
“You’ve been a naughty woman, little wife, you need to be taught a lesson.”
Rey pushed her hair away from her face and the anticipation grew in her belly. Their game was fun.
“Since your skirts absorbed the impact of my hand upon you, you still need a proper spanking. We’ll have to remove this.” Benedict said as he started to peel away her smallclothes, sliding fabric down her legs.
Rey tensed at the newness, the illicit feeling of doing this in the light of day, no coverlet to hide beneath, and her on display for his eyes. She didn’t resist, however, nervous but curious at this new development. The air thrilled her, and she only heard Benedict move his weight and light rasping, perhaps the removal of his tunic. Was he going to try to couple with her?
Reflexively, Rey bent her buttocks backwards giving him more access. He had never taken her this way, but she had seen the sketches, knew it was done in more ways than she had experienced. She took a breath, bracing herself for the burning stretch. However, it was Benedict’s mouth that covered her wet and hot lady-part. Rey gasped, grasping at the sheets underneath her.
“Sssh,” Benedict assured her. “Didn’t the men in that book please Eloise with their mouths?”
Eloise ? Who was Eloise ? Why would he dare mention another woman’s name when he was kissing her on her–oh!
The men in the book… Eloise was the name of the heroine. So, he had read it! Rey furrowed her brows but she didn’t have enough time to think when he dug his tongue between her folds and started licking at her in a constant motion. Equally, his hands tightened around her buttocks and Rey wanted more, needed more. She moaned, wanton and wicked, and started wiggling and pressing herself back onto his face. She could sense Benedict growing more eager, could hear the little sounds he made in the back of his throat, and the unbuttoning and unlacing of more of his clothing.
“Do you like this?” He whispered, and Rey only hummed, half-annoyed that he stopped to speak, as her loins burned and a feeling started getting built up in her core. It was strange and exhilarating. Her fingers dug into the sheet as Benedict’s mouth created wonders with each warm lap of his tongue and the press of his nose inside her. He was skilled, he must be, to stir such feelings within her, and Rey was living what Eloise experienced in the book.
Slap!
Slap!
Rey gasped and opened her eyes at the tang sensation of the spankings that Benedict gave her, likely leaving handprints on her skin. It burned, yes, but the pain wasn’t a bad sort of feeling. This was good. Surprisingly good actually. With each spanking and the swirl of his tongue, that bizarre tightening grew in her belly, and started becoming unbearable.
“Benedict..” She heard herself repeat his name. “Ben, Ben...”
Slap!
He didn’t stop then and continued spanking her buttocks, groping between her thighs and suckling on her until the sensations became too much, and Rey needed to relax herself like a tightly wound bow. Stars red and white, yellow and blue, burst behind her eyes as her core exploded with pulses flying across her limbs up and down and up her neck until she couldn’t breathe anymore and collapsed face down on the bed.
When she opened her eyes, she was lying face up on the bed with Benedict next to her holding her hand. He lit up at seeing her smile.
His fingers caressed her cheeks as Rey noticed that he in fact had removed his tunic, hair tousled, unbuttoned his shirt and even ..Oh..Ohhh
Rey couldn’t look and tried to sit straight.
Worried, Ben followed her, “What is it? Are you alright? I’ll fetch some water, if you’d like.”
“No, no, the thing you did with your mouth was...good..I’m just.”
Benedict looked down at his unbuttoned breeches and his manhood poking outside like an angry one-eyed creature. Oddly enough, Rey wanted to touch it, just like Eloise had been touching and even putting them in her mouth.
“We don’t have to...I needed to relieve…the pressure, you see, from the fabric, it feels rough and squeezes most unpleasantly. I apologize.” Benedict tried to lace himself back when Rey stopped his hand and watched him gulp hard. Her small hand then grew braver and touched his very hard member. It was stiff, large, veiny and pink, and yet somehow surprisingly soft.
“Does it hurt?”
Benedict was only able to move his face. His breathing went faster and shallower. He sat back more comfortably against the pillows on their bed and gave her more access. “Is this alright?” Rey asked as she started unlacing his breeches further down and he helped her lower them down. Benedict wasn’t able to create coherent sentences and only nodded.
“You can touch it.” He finally exhaled. “I find I rather like you touching me,” he said, licking his lips and looking at her. “ Rey. ”
Rey smirked, emboldened by Eloise ’s adventures. If she could do this for so many men, so could Rey for her husband. For Ben. Her hand around the hard member. “How can this fit inside me? It’s very big.”
Benedict laughed and watched her intently.
“It’s so smooth and…a lot of ridges...” Rey continued exploring her curiosity.
“I wager it would be rather unpleasant for you were I as rough there as my feet or even hands.”
Her fingers curled around him but they couldn’t meet. It was long and thick with more underneath. She inhaled and exhaled a few times, got on her knees and helped Ben lower his breeches down further. She could finally see it in full.
“ Oh.. ” She exclaimed at the sight of the two other things at the base of his member. Eloise did like those too.
“May I?” Rey asked as she dragged her hand and the tips of her fingers around his… cock...and balls .. Rey cringed at those words echoing in her mind. “So smooth.” She whispered.
“You could..uh..do this..” Benedict helped her wrap her hand around his cock and motioned her to move it up and down.
Rey did just that. She liked following orders–these ones, anyway–so she started moving her hand up and down. Benedict started grunting, closing his eyes. “Am I hurting you?”
“No..no..keep going.” His breath hitched. “Keep your grip tighter.”
Rey tightened her grip and kept the pace of her hand up and down just like he’d said. Watching him gave her another thrill that she didn’t know she could experience until this very moment. Sexual pleasure wasn’t only about bedding. In fact, seeing Benedict’s manhood or cock made it even better and his lips, oh his lips .
And it was those lips that closed over her mouth as her hand moved up and down on his member. His hand cradled her face, coaxed his tongue inside her mouth, bit her lower lip almost drawing blood. Rey gasped at the sudden shock of his passion and kept kissing him back, wondering at the strange taste on his tongue. Had he eaten before this?
He gently dragged his mouth down her neck at that place that made her feel wild, made her want to move and cry out.
“I want you,” Rey murmured. This wasn’t out of duty. It was out of sheer debauched desire towards her husband.
“I want you too.” He replied back as their lips tangled and danced trying to find one another again with tongue and lips and teeth biting at one another. Rey’s grip tightened around his cock, however, and suddenly, Benedict started grunting and moaning loudly. Much louder than when they’d couple together in bed. Hot warm liquid spilled out coating her hand. It was sticky but very warm and voluminous gushing out. He closed his eyes and let it spill out. Meanwhile, Rey continued kissing his lip, the side of his mouth, his cheek.
When it was done, she removed her hand and frowned at the white substance. It seemed sticky and different out on her hand compared to how it felt hot and warm inside of her post-coitous. “It seems so different.”
Benedict cleared his throat and moved quickly, “I apologize, my love.” Awkwardly, he lifted his breeches and looked for a cloth to clean her hand. Rey sat there as she continued examining the liquid, and felt him scrubbing her hand with a cloth.
“Come, let’s get you cleaned up.” He offered to let her go to the wash basin.
“No,” She said looking at her hand that seemed mostly off the sticky substance. “This looks alright, let’s lie together here for a minute.”
Ben smiled. That warm smile drawing dimples and creases around his face. Rey’s heart melted every time seeing that boyish beautiful look on him.
She grabbed both his cheeks with her hands and kissed him sharply on his lips through his grin. When she let go, she blushed and retreated back laying on the bed. He didn’t say a word then, threw the cloth somewhere on the floor and settled next to her. Rey nestled herself inside his arm inhaling his musky scent as his fingers caressed the little hairs over her temple.
Life was good then.
“Ben?”
“Yes, Rey?”
“I quite like being your wife.”
“I rather like being your husband.”
“Will you teach me more, later?”
“I will teach you everything, wife, things not even in your naughty little book.”
“It was in your library.”
“Hm, was it? Are you quite sure? I found it in your possession.”
“Benedict!” she protested, sitting up,
His lips curled and he opened tired eyes.
“Are you…you’re teasing me again, are you not? Is this another game?”
“Lie with me, little wife. Rest, and after, you may bring your little book to bed, and we shall begin your next lesson.”