The Van Sietter Bride

Wedding Night

Part 3 of 3 (All sex scene!)

He opened the door to the bedchamber which they had laid out as a bridal suite and went in to find her sitting on the bed.

Clearly she had become nervous sitting there waiting for him and she had got up onto the bed and tucked her legs under herself like a young girl sitting in her single bed and wondering if an handsome Knight will ever come for her honour. She wore some sort of heavy rose-pink silk thing which clung close to her. He was disappointed at this, he thought they knew that the old-fashioned look suited her better and would have dressed her for him like so. Her head was stooped and her loose long hair streamed all over her shoulders, the golden strands sparkling in the candlelight against the rose-pink silk of her robe. She looked terribly young and shy. She had been dressed up as an appealing dish for him, her sweet young pink body arrayed in the rose-pink silk and her own golden hair. He knew he was not getting her virgin favour but he reflected with a disappointed sigh that he would of course allow her some time to overcome any anxieties she might have about lying with him. Yet another one whose happiness he was to consider! that was how it was when you were the future sworn Lord, the happiness of all of them was under your eye to consider.

As she heard him come in she lifted her head suddenly, and her shoulders went up, her bosom lifted to him.

Holy Heaven! look at the thing. It had an open front down to her waist where it was only caught together by a knot of ribbons. He could just see the curve of her naked breasts hanging in the dimness in there waiting for his hand, pale yet dusky in the rosy shadows cast by the silk robe. The soft clinging silk outlined all her curves: her shoulders, her breasts, the curve in to her waist, her rounded hips, the soft muscular legs. Ooh, those legs he had been wondering and wondering about, would they be the legs that he thought they might be, because of all the riding she must be doing?

But he must be patient, he must consider her happiness. He latched the door behind him and started walking across the red patterned rugs on the floor, opening his mouth to say something reassuring.

She surged off the bed, the pink silk shimmering over her luscious curves like water, her hair flowing back over her shoulders, her hands going straight to the buttons of his breeches. She started dragging the buttons out of the holes in eager haste, pulling down his breeches, flinging herself to her knees at his feet. She lifted out his cock which was still soft and small and put it straight into her mouth.

Arkyll gasped, his exquisite slanted blue eyes flew wide open, he grunted in arousal. The blood was hammering down to his penis, which was growing under the caress of her lips at an incredible rate. She was doing something so exhilarating with the tip of her tongue to the head of his cock that his hips had already started bucking towards her, his hands going to shove her head at him and force her to take his cock deeper in her mouth.

With an effort he gripped his hands on her head and pushed it away.

Her head came up with the face lightly and prettily decorated: a golden line coiling around her lovely brown eye, her mouth from which he had just hauled his cock glinting golden. Her brown eye was soft with disappointment, her cherub's bow of a mouth pouted sadly. The candlelight glistened off the sad golden pout, his eyes creased up with lust to see the gleam on those soft pouting lips which had just been wrapped around his cock.

"Do you not like a kiss to the cock?" she enquired mournfully, still kneeling in a pool of heavy rose-pink silk at his feet on the patterned red rug with that pretty face tilted up to him. "I like so much to give one and I thought it might please you. I will do whatever you prefer, of course, my Lord," she added in a tremulous submission.

"Shut it, you silly bitch!" he grunted, sitting heavily back on the bed and gasping with the effort to calm the ecstatic impulses shooting round his sexual organs. "It is my wedding night! Gimme rein. I want it slow."

She gave a sudden giggle, tipping her head sidelong with a titillated flash of her brown eyes, to hear the famously courteous Lord Arkyll el Maien address her like so! She turned her head side to side, watching him with those pretty brown eyes relieved and her golden pout of a mouth parted hopefully. Tillia had said to her that although the el Maiens were famous for their inappropriate politeness to servants and dependents, they spoke to each other in arrogant tones of command. Tillia said that if Arkyll were a bit sharp and rough-spoken to her it only meant he thought of her like family. This degree of rudeness seemed highly promising!

"C'mere," Arkyll grunted, holding out an hand. His exquisite blue eyes flashed laughingly at her. When she put her hand in his, he pulled hard, easily dragging her body up to his. He began fingering her buttock through the heavy rose silk of her robe, slapping her fingers away when she attempted to play with the stiff erect cock which was half-exposed in his unbuttoned breeches. "Know a lot about kissing cocks, do you?" he grunted, more for something to say and keep her off his cock long enough for him to settle it down.

"Well it is not a proper favour, to kiss a man's cock, is it?" she said blithely.

He raised a dark eyebrow over a blue eye. "Yes it is," he said with great firmness. "And if you do it ever again to any other man I will kill him," he added. His blue eye glinted up at her where she was standing above him.

"Oh no no," she said earnestly. "Of course I would not even kiss another man than you. I mean on the mouth," she blushed prettily. "But you will like me to kiss your cock, will you not?" She looked sidelong at him through her long strands of golden hair with a naughty gleam in her eye and the blush dying down in her cheeks. "You will not deny me the kiss to your cock. In the interests of securing the succession, of course." Her hand was creeping up his leg again, he pressed his hand down on it to stop her.

Sweet Heaven! he had in his hands -- literally in his hands, a slut on an heartstring. She was like him. She loved to give and take a favour -- but only to one lover, and he was to be that fortunate man. He could barely contain himself with excitement but now he desperately wanted to get and give pleasure not shoot it all off in a two-three minutes uncontrollable release of the exquisite tension in his loins.

He started pressing his mouth to her neck, waiting to be less excited so he could put his fingers to her sex and find out what state of arousal she might be in without going over himself. Unhelpfully she was thrusting her hips at him in a manner suggesting she was more than ready for his favour. He gripped his fingers on firm round buttocks under the slippery silk which his fingers slid on -- oh! the riding, her legs must be like young trees: pliant and strong. He gave a moan, pushing her excited exciting body away from him.

Sevie stood back from him in the warm golden light of the scented candles all around them. She gave a wriggling shrug and the heavy rose silk robe slid over her shoulders and poured down off her body like a waterfall. He sat panting on the bed staring greedily at the round breasts like sweet pale buns with a pink cherry on the top thrusting through the long strands of golden hair, the delicious curve in to her tight small waist, the rounded hips and those legs: oh yes, yes! look at that line down the hard muscles of her thigh.

He must tell her mother to make her keep up the riding.

He could tell her himself, she was his Lady wife and she was no high intelligence to argue it out with him. She was a biddable pussy-cat who was looking at him with eager adoration in her silly brown eyes. She would do whatever he said she should do and she would like it.

He would buy her two matched horses and take her out riding in the famous hunting territory of the Sietter Hills and he would generously allow her to fuck him senseless in the smaller of the two hunting lodges they owned. He gave a thrilled grin, holding out his hands. She came walking into them, her body quivering with anticipation of the caress of his big fingers. They gathered up her long hair, pushing it back over her shoulders out of his way, ran lightly over her pale skin, brushing her nipples so that she giggled and wriggled, poking teasingly into her belly-button, fingering the golden-brown coils of hair around her sex and then going to run slowly down the defining line of the muscles in her thigh.

Angels, she had a beautiful body. He had always realised it. From the moment he saw her first, an over-painted butterfly on the steps of her father's castle, he had looked at her curving figure and realised there was a storming lovely under her gauche manners and the paint. He would not tell her so, of course, now that he had realised what he had in his hands. If she thought she was that beautiful she would imagine she could go off flirting and playing in the pink-fingered set. She thought they were like brigands and pirates, romantic and sexy. Arkyll spent his days working with thieves and prostitutes, they were not in the least romantic and he liked many of them as friends of a kind but he knew that the pink-fingered set his father had once moved in at court were a dishonourable collection of cold-hearted exploitative men and women whom his sister and mother kicked away like dogs if they came sniffing at their heels. Well, like they would if they were ever so mean as to kick a dog as if it were some dishonourable scum. He did not want his little Sevie to get caught in the traps of the pink-fingered set and to have to end by breaking his marriage to her and send her to live out her days on her marriage settlement lands, painting her face in the effort to lure in Knights and officers and think that was more exciting than being happy with a family of her own. Then he would have to have some dull Lady to wife, some elegant woman to go riding with his sister, talk philosophy with his brothers, be an intelligent companion supporting his mother in her political work, be a tactful helpmeet to his father about the castle; and not to be there for him to play with, the future sworn Lord who spent his days trying to secure their happiness and he wanted there to be someone whose job it was to secure his and here she was. Arrie would hate her, Hanya and Clair would be kind to her but they would despise her, his mother would grit her teeth and do her best and she would always be crossing blades with his father about matters of the household management. He would have to put her to the bit to control her silliness but her body in the bed would be his to enjoy and now he had realised that she would be an eager participating companion in his pleasures not just a nice set of curves to fuck while she pretended to moan because he felt bad at heart if she had no pleasure of it. He had told a little lie, letting people think he had taken her for the sake of her happiness when she was in a mess and to give his mother van Thiel's counter and to secure the succession for the region. Actually her ripe little curves had always made his cock hard, he wanted her for his own purposes. When he asked his mother to let him have a ring for her, his mother had realised he wanted her and she reluctantly accepted it. His parents had expected to choose his bride but they had always been willing to take his wishes into consideration. He had had to tell his father in the end, he could not lie to van Sietter.

He gave an happy snigger, standing up to start undressing. She wanted to help him but she was too eager, it was too exciting to have her plump little fingers with the diamond and sapphires and the delicately patterned circle of his wedding ring flashing on them, tugging insistently at his buttons so that they were almost tearing them off -- and trying surreptitiously to go and feel his rigid rod of a cock with the balls swinging behind it.

"Get down, silly goose," he laughed, smacking her fingers away and pushing her lithe collection of plump muscular limbs at the bed.

"Call me a bitch," she said with a naughty flash of her pretty brown eyes.

He sniggered in delight, one hand pushing gently at her, the other gripped on her leg to hold her to him in contradiction to his words. "You are a naughty Lady," he said.

"Yes but you like it," she giggled.

He laughed and pressed his hand round between her thighs, pushing one finger gently up for a little poke about in the wet warmth pulsing with desire for him. She started trying to sink down on his finger, holding onto his arm -- she was that hungry for it!

"Lie down and let me have a look at you," he suggested. His blue eyes were bright and sparkling with fun. "Bitch," he added.

He had meant he just wanted to run his eyes over her body while he got the rest of his clothes off. His jacket and shirt had been tossed with unusual carelessness onto a nearby chair but he still had not only his unbuttoned blue silk breeches but his knee high boots and the belt of weapons on.

She laid herself back over the soft embroidered quilts and silken sheets, the plump softly muscular limbs, the sweet curving body sinking into the bedclothes and her own long golden hair, her mounds of round breasts like delicious cakes on display for his hungry mouth. She opened out her legs, her gorgeous muscular thighs. She put her plump little fingers to the lips of her sex in among the coils of pubic hair and parted them, opened them to reveal to his wide-eyed blue stare the little horn of her clitoris: erect with anticipation of pleasure, the rose-pink glistening muscles at the entrance to her cunt. She reached out and pulled a pillow under her hips, opened herself out again and tilted to make sure she displayed the dark hole of her arse, puckered as if for his kiss.

He gave a quivering moan and dug urgently in his pocket. Her eyes came up with a question when he produced the condom, he grinned desperately at her and said: "Forget the succession. Gimme a two-three years pleasure first." When he spoke his voice was guttural with lust. He was rolling the condom on quickly, she would have to have him in boots and belt of weapons now, he was burning for her favour.

He knelt between her invitingly open legs, running his hot gaze all over her body. Her face had become so soft and sweet to realise he did not want her just for the sake of the region, her limbs were lying back passive in submission to his pleasure. All day every day and often in the nights he considered the happiness of others: his family, the servants, the people of his region. But she was his Lady wife and a biddable slut on his heartstring. Her happiness lay in securing his.

He pressed the head of his covered cock to her cunt and she gave a sigh, spreading her hips wider to him. He did his best to restrain his explosive lust and make it a gentle thrust up into her, shoving deep into her cunt, his big hips pressing up between her wide-spread hips, laying his heavy body over the sweet curves of her rounded body. The buckle of his belt pressed between them both, into their soft bellies, now that he was comfortably in he felt able to take the few seconds necessary to pull out the buckle, shoving his weaponry away so it clattered careless off the bed while he did her favours honour.

She was rising up to meet him, soft and slow, her arms coming around him. He looked into soft brown eyes that adored him, he pressed his mouth to her mouth, their lips curling gently and insistently in the kiss. She gripped her arms about his broad chest with the three scars on it, thrusting her hips up to his hard thick cock which came pushing down into her cunt at last giving sweet satisfaction to the yearning appetite within her. She started grunting into his kiss, he was aware of his own guttural cries as the feelings rippled out through him, through her, his cock sunk thrusting into her cunt, her hips thrusting her cunt up about his cock, the hips, the loins, his hand gripped on a buttock as round and sweet as a bun, his lips pressed in the kiss, he was cumming, cumming with a series of cries into her writhing thrusting body, she was gripping him so close and warm in the thrills of her own orgasm.

---

When he woke in the night, her naked limbs and her long hair entwined around his naked limbs, he lay a while staring contentedly round the room in the softly flickering low light of the fire and the guttering candles which had burned down low. After a moment, he drew her shoulder in closer to him and kissed the soft round of the bone at the top of her arm through the fine net of hair cast over it. As he had anticipated, her limbs moved and her cherub's bow of a mouth pouted, her eyelids flickered and she woke up. He would never have been so selfish towards anyone else but he knew she would only give him a thrilled warm sweet smile to be woken in the night to service his wishes. He kissed her softly, allowing his lips to cling to hers, laying one big hand gently to the side of her silly pretty face.

"What's your pleasure, my Lord," she said with a sleepy snigger. He laughed. One day he would be 'my Lord' to the whole of Sietter but she was the first one who would call him so; because she was his Lady wife.

"My Lady," he said, because he knew she would like to hear him say it: the only man who could with propriety call her his Lady until she became Lady van Sietter. Her hand came snuggling down his body searching out his cock but he blocked it off, kissing her cheek and her cherub's bow of a mouth a bit more, enjoying the soft expectancy of his stirring cock.

He thought that the next day he would have a nice lie-in fucking with her and snoozing then if they sneaked into the bath-house mid-morning no one else would be there and they could share the big central pool and fuck in the warm waters with scented oils to add to their pleasure. Her hair would float out in the waters all around them while they did it, which would make a pleasing picture if he could be bothered to look.

Sevie cast a leg about his legs, her head snuggling back in the pillows to expose her neck and sweet round breasts to his kiss. He ran his finger avidly up the groove in her thigh.

He looked to the side of the bed but they had removed the basket of condoms, obviously in the hopes that he would immediately leap on her and impregnate her to secure the succession. Well, if the van Thiels and his mother were disappointed that he was not doing so, at the least of it his father would realise he was getting pleasure in his wedding bed and be glad of it.

He kissed Sevie once more and climbed out of her arms to go to the door and she said, "will you ask for some snacks?" which was an excellent idea when he came to consider it.

His father must have had the pleasure of a word and made them clear the corridor outside the room he and Sevie had been given. Arkyll sighed, wrapping Sevie's silken robe scantily around his big hips to cover his already half roused penis and going along the torchlit corridor until he came upon a footman snoozing in a chair by the other guest rooms. Distantly he could hear music so they must still be dancing -- and snacking.

The footman brought them a tray of some highly suitable dishes. Arkyll's blue eyes lingered with interest on some creamy spreads for biscuits of which the footman had provided a large selection. He grinned when the footman winked at him and made a mental note to make sure and tip him a large sum before they left to go back to Sietter. While he and Sevie ate some tasty local cheese and fruit thing, he turned over in his mind the dinner with his chums in the peace corps to celebrate his wedding.