He gazed down at the girl spread-eagled below him, admiring the way her long blonde hair splayed across the silken sheets; and savouring the way her body writhed as he thrust into her. The young queen moaned with each lunge, as if echoing the cries of her lady-in-waiting, who was being energetically attended to by Robert's brother, just a few feet away beyond the curtains of the four poster bed. Lady Elizabeth was as lovely as her cousin and Robert felt a twinge of concern that Edward might be getting characteristically carried away. After all, the girl was supposed to have still been a virgin until twenty minutes ago...
The King paused for a moment, with the glistening head of his royalty nestled just at the entrance to paradise, while he listened to the sounds Elizabeth was making. When he heard a soft groan and a girl's voice saying, "Don't stop," he was confused for a second as to who was speaking. Then he looked down at his own sweet conquest and realised it was Isabella who was pleading for more.
The queen's eyes were open now, gazing at him intently, reinforcing her words with a movement of her abdomen that pressed her vulva against him. Not for the first time, Robert was amazed by this woman. He smiled as he heard Elizabeth give a sudden gasp that spoke more of pleasure than of pain. Then, satisfied that his brother was fulfilling his duties appropriately, Robert returned his attention to Isabella.
Cupping her breasts in his hands, he enjoyed the fullness of them for a minute or so, gently rolling the proud pink nipples between finger and thumb. She moaned appreciatively, squirming beneath him so that her moist slit pressed up against his cock, pleading for its return. If she was grieving for her husband, she concealed it well.
Quite abruptly the King took hold of her legs and pulled them up over his shoulders, never once taking his eyes from hers while he positioned himself. As he poised at the tipping point, with her thighs just bearing his weight, he took in a multitude of delights: the way that she was gently biting her own lip in anticipation; the voluptuous perfection of her body; and the neat bush of blonde curls that encompassed the head of his cock as he slowly ploughed it up and down the length of her furrow. Each stroke turned up the fresh pink flesh of her inner lips, until it rubbed briefly over her little bud before returning to her entrance. And at the end of the fifth stroke he drove himself into her in one continuous, irresistible lunge that was neither violent nor brutal but had the whole weight and power of his body behind it.
Isabella gasped at the magnitude of his entry; and the energy of it drove her half a foot up the bed and his cock even further than that up inside of her. It was only the second time he had entered her and Robert marvelled at the way she opened around him, the initial resistance giving way to a fathomless softness. Her whole body was glorious but her cunt was the most perfect he had ever known -- and he had known many. People said that Ulrich had kept her well fucked in the first year of their marriage, until her failure to bear him a son had turned him against her. Now she was still barely twenty-one: and four years of that brute seemed to have done little more than to make her appreciate a bigger man who knew how to pleasure her instead of just himself.
Yet for a while Robert could not restrain himself and he pounded into her, as hard and remorseless as any barbarian in the heat of first capture; and she took it with a look of bliss on her face and her hands in his hair, calling out, "Yes, yes, yes!" with each thrust.
He almost came inside her right then but managed by the narrowest of margins to hold back. With his cock throbbing fit to bust, the King arched his head backwards and gritted his teeth as he fought to regain self-control. She must have recognised what he was doing, for she stayed motionless beneath him, save for relaxing her muscles so as not to grip him too tightly. He looked down at her again and called out to anyone who could hear, "Sweet Jesus, what a woman!"
After a minute of something close to agony the King mastered himself; and after a minute more he was able to resume. He smiled at her and began a long, slow, corkscrew motion, much gentler than before but just as deep. He could tell she loved it, moving herself against him, arching her back and lifting her abdomen to meet him so that his thrusts went even deeper. She was starting to call out encouragement again and he gradually increased the rhythm, reaching down sometimes to kiss her, to which she responded passionately until the ecstasy of it overcame her and she began to thrash her head from side to side on the pillows, digging her nails into his shoulders as he hit the spot and kept on going.
At some point, even before she climaxed, Robert had the full and conscious realisation that his new queen was surely the most glorious fuck in all the twin kingdoms.
-------------------------------
He had admired her from the moment he saw her. She had met them on the main bridge of the city, as the remnant of her husband's broken army streamed past in panic. Alone but for a single lady-in-waiting, with nothing to defend themselves except their wits, their courage and their beauty.
Robert stopped at the head of his men, bloodied sword in hand, so close he could have reached out and touched her. But he didn't. Like every man with him, he stood as if rooted to the spot.
The testosterone on that bridge was overpowering, a palpable force that came at the two girls like the breath of a wild beast. They must have felt it, smelt it, been terrified by it, yet they stood their ground. It was fuelled by the heat of battle, the stench of slaughter and the rush of adrenaline that drove men to do and bear terrible things. And yet the army stopped: and as the leading ranks took in what was before them, something touched their humanity.
Robert had known at once who she was. Even without the regal posture and the rich clothing, there were few woman anywhere who could match the rumours about Queen Isabella, the Barren Beauty.
The Queen must have been trembling inside but she never showed it, instead raising her chin and speaking in a voice that even hinted at mockery.
"What business have you here, your Grace, that brings you forth in such unseemly tumult?"
He smiled and bowed to her, with only a little irony. "I come to take back the throne usurped by your late husband."
"He was a bad man and a bad King but lawfully crowned. What right have you to claim it?"
"The oldest right of all: the right of conquest."
There was a moment's pause and Robert could see how her breasts rose and fell with suppressed tension. The smooth swell of them was delightfully revealed by her dress, which followed a courtly fashion that could hardly have served her purpose. Or could it?
"I ended his brutal reign not half an hour ago: and now I am come to take everything else that was his and is rightfully mine."
Robert saw her swallow and her lovely face grow a shade paler. The dark haired girl beside her reached out a hand but she waved it away, steadying herself to meet his gaze.
"Some things cannot be taken. Some are not yours to take, even by conquest..." So saying she drew a narrow, jewelled blade from the sleeve of her dress and held the point against her heart.
"I do not doubt your courage, Queen Isabella, or your willingness to defend your honour. But I think you came here for something else?"
