The wedding at Eric's family estate was stupendous. They were married in the local chapel, Eric and Arya having agreed that a smaller wedding was far preferable to something larger and grander. Eric's face had been as mesmerized and wondrous as she had hoped it would be when she walked down the aisle, a sight that she had tried to burn into her brain. They celebrated the marriage afterwards in large, white tents similar to those at the picnic where Eric and Arya had bonded several months prior. Arya enjoyed the attention, reveling in the feeling of being the hostess of the white tented party rather than the guest she had previously been.
Eric's mother was almost as happy as Arya's, and the two families discovered a mutual affection and respect that was a relief to all involved; there's nothing so awkward as a wedding between two families who hate each other. It was a joyous event, and Arya managed to avoid anyone who she knew would irritate her (*cough cough* Lady Isabella...). The food was delicious, song and dance were rousing and lively, and the guests were soon drunk.
Though Arya and Eric themselves had had little to drink, both wanting to remember this night.
They had been itching all day for the event to close so that they could retire to Eric's suite, and they slipped off at the first opportunity. Yes, it was probably a bit too early to have left, according to custom, but they were done waiting.
As per their arrangement, Eric had set up a wedding surprise in his bedroom two days prior. As he prepped the space, Eric could hardly believe his luck. He had never dreamed that he would find a wife to indulge in his fantasies with. Not only that, someone who
shared
his fantasies. He drew on all his sexual dreams and primal urges as he schemed and set the scene for their wedding night, and while in any other circumstance he might have worried that reality wouldn't live up to his imagination, when it came to Arya reality was always better than the fantasy.
It was a very long few days, waiting until he could reveal the scene to her, and he was at half-mast for much of it.
The day after Eric prepped the bedroom, Arya was allowed to commandeer his adjoined sitting room for her own surprise. The door between the rooms remained firmly closed, and the normally curious Arya was happy to let it stay that way. Eric stayed in a guest suite until the wedding, so neither knew what the other was planning and was almost as excited to experience her surprise as he was to share his own.
The day having drawn to a close, the couple now hurried towards the suite holding hands, their hearts racing and blood pumping through their veins with adrenaline and anxiety.
They reached the door and Arya placed a shaking hand on Eric's chest. "Wait here," she ordered, trying to sound stern.
"Yes ma'am," Eric replied smartly, giving her a mock salute. Arya leaned forward to kiss him, meaning for it to be a peck, but, as usual, a short kiss turned into something deeper, and Eric was soon pressing Arya forcefully against the door as she moaned and squirmed against him.
"Ok, ok," she gasped, pulling away. "Let me go, Eric."
"You started it," he teased. But he stepped away and gestured for her to enter.
"Well... anyway, turn around, please. I don't want you peeking inside!"
He acquiesced and Arya quickly slipped through the door. She smiled, pleased by the sight.
Arya had turned the room into something out of a fairy tale. Candles were hung from the ceiling, they stood upon every free surface, and there were garlands of flowers lining the floors and walls. Furs and soft blankets were laid out, covering pieces of furniture and the floors, so that the entire effect of the room was one of softness, light, and comfort. A fire was roaring, so even while nude the newlyweds would be warm.
A maid entered a moment later and she quickly helped Arya remove the voluminous gown. The maid then wiped Arya down quickly with some warm, wet washcloths, removing the sweat and grime of the day. She rubbed Arya's skin until it was pink and glowing, rubbed lotion and fragrant oils over it, then left. In the next room, Eric had also taken a moment to rinse off. He used all his willpower to not stroke himself, wanting to save all of it for his bride.
Arya pulled open a drawer and ran her fingers across the lacy underthings that she had stowed away. She waffled between two sets before choosing the white ones, rather than the red. She had a feeling that the red lingerie would be more suited to Eric's plans than hers.
Dressing quickly, Arya then pulled on a short, silky robe, and opened the door. Eric had finished by then and was leaning against the wall, waiting. His eyes brightened as the door opened, and he grinned with a feral energy that made Arya's heart pound.
Arya motioned Eric in and he whistled, moving to the center of the room and taking it all in. "It's beautiful!"
"Thank you," she beamed.
"We hung very different things from the ceiling," Eric commented, grinning slyly.
"Oh?" Arya asked, moving closer so that she could wriggle her way under his arm.
"You'll see," he replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "For now I want to enjoy what you have to show me."
"Sit, please," Arya directed, pointing at a chair by the fire.
"Of course, beautiful wife of mine," Eric replied with a smile. "Whatever you say."
And enjoy this while you can, my love. Because soon I'll be the one giving the orders, and I won't be nearly as sweet as you are.
He got comfortable in the chair, removing his outer clothes so that he was left in just a pair of pants and a loose shirt. Arya watched while he undressed, her eyes growing hungry with anticipation.
"Let me help you with that last bit," she offered, her voice husky. Eric stood obediently and Arya slowly drew his shirt over his head, tossing it aside and running her hands over his chest, shoulders, and waist. She loved the feeling of her hands grazing up and down the sides of his body, the way the muscles rippled under the smooth skin, and how he tensed when she brushed against somewhere ticklish. But Arya didn't tease him for long, moving quickly to undo his pants. She drew them down and was pleased to find him rock hard already. She motioned again for him to sit, and she moved a few paces back.
She stood with her back to the fire so that she was partially in silhouette. There was a mirror a little ways behind Eric that allowed Arya to see her reflection as she fidgeted for a moment, fingering the ties of the robe. She slowly began to untie it, and pull it open.
It felt deliciously naughty to disrobe while watching her own reflection, knowing that he was drinking in the sexy sight with as much relish as she felt in flaunting it.
For Eric it was the most glorious unwrapping he had witnessed. She was the perfect gift, and he shivered as she pulled loose the ties as one would a bow tied to the top of a package. She let it slowly drift down her shoulders, down her arms, until it slid softly to the floor and she was entirely exposed to him. It took his breath away.
Arya was wearing tight, lacy, frilly underthings which he had never seen on a woman before. They were clearly designed to accentuate her curves and sexuality, and Eric's cock throbbed when he noticed that there were holes where her nipples poked out. He was overcome with the urge to suck them into his mouth. She struck a sexy little pose, one hand on her hip and the other over her head, hips cocked to one side and the hint of a cheeky grin on her radiant face.
"You like?"
Eric could only nod vigorously, his mouth dry as he drank in the sight.
"What do you like?"
Eric cleared his throat, his voice rough as he murmured, "Your skin, the way it glows and beckons me to stroke and kiss it. The slope of your neck and shoulders - it's so graceful and feminine. I love your waist, the way it curves inward before flaring out to hips that I want to sink my fingers into while you ride me. Your legs, so long and smooth. Fuck, Arya," he panted, turned on by speaking the words aloud.
"And what about this?" Arya teased, turning and bending over slightly. Eric groaned at the sight of her round ass, fingers twitching with the need to grab and slap it.
As much as he loved the look of her undergarments, the way they framed her ass made Eric decide that they needed to go. He wanted to see all of her.
But Eric resisted the urge to jump on her, simply saying, "You're beautiful, Arya."
She let out a nervous little giggle, moving towards him as she replied, "You're too nice to me sometimes. What did I ever do to deserve it?"
Eric didn't reply, too distracted by the feeling of Arya slipping into his lap and laying her head on his shoulder. He could feel her warm breath on his neck, and shuddered when her tongue ran slowly up his neck. She nibbled on his ear and his arms snaked around her waist, tightening as she whispered, "I love you."
Her legs were draped over his lap so that his shaft was trapped between her toned thighs, and his hips jerked of their own accord. Arya laughed softly again and squeezed her legs together, loving the way his eyes rolled back when she began to clench and release.