with this ring, I thee wed

[tiltingwithlips]

Man and wife.

They are at last man and wife, he hers and she his -- the Lord and Lady Percy.

It has been quite a day.

When the festivities are finally done, they have burned a great many candles, eaten a great deal of food, danced many a dance. Elizabeth is the one who finally takes Harry's hand, covering a yawn, and tugs him towards the door of the hall. The remaining guests raise a cheer and a cup as the couple head upstairs to their rooms.

Kate leans on Harry as they ascend the stairs, loose-limbed and smiling from exhaustion.

Comments

[tiltingwithlips]

That gets a sharp intake of breath out of her, and a tightening of her fingers in his hair. It's not that she objects, it's just unexpected.

[valiantrebel]

Just a flick of the tongue at first, then a slow swipe.

Under her grip, without meaning to, he moans.

[tiltingwithlips]

She swallows.

"Do we -- ah -- like that, my lord?"

[valiantrebel]

"Oh, good my lady--" More kisses, toward her collarbone. "That we do."

And now he props himself above her, eye to eye. "I beg thee, Kate, to help me."

[tiltingwithlips]

"Did I not vow to?"

She tightens her grip on his hair again.

[valiantrebel]

"I heard thee myself." And another glad, unplanned twist beneath her hand.

He leans close to her ear. (She can't see his face, which is, for the record, deeply solemn.) "I am beset," he says, "by a pestilent pair of trousers."

[tiltingwithlips]

"--Oh!"

She runs her hands down his sides to his waist and starts to fumble with the laces.

"Are they such a burden?"

[valiantrebel]

"Oh, a desperate one, in faith!" He drops to the sheets, on his side.

He's still not able to keep his hands away from her hair, though.

[tiltingwithlips]

She sits up to keep working on undoing his trousers and starts pulling them down his hips.

"Let us relieve thee, then."

[valiantrebel]

"The lady is kind."

Naturally he twists to help her a little.

[tiltingwithlips]

A little farther down, and he's free.

Kate stops, blinking.

"'Swounds," she murmurs, "'tis no wonder they troubled thee."

[valiantrebel]

"My plight is not o'erstated, then?"

[tiltingwithlips]

"It would seem not."

Hesitating, she extends a hand to touch his . . . plight.

[valiantrebel]

Harry and his troubles are both receptive to her attentions. He grins up at her.

"What art thou thinking?"

If it's how to proceed, he has some ideas.

[tiltingwithlips]

"I cannot say."

Her fingers are light on his skin, uncertain.

[valiantrebel]

Too light, though he's been guilty of same.

He reaches down and wraps her hand around hers.

A little more pressure won't hurt. Especially if they just start slow.

[tiltingwithlips]

She draws in a breath, her eyes flicking up to his face for a moment, then squeezes him experimentally.

[valiantrebel]

Oh--!

"Less so, less so just yet!"

[tiltingwithlips]

"--I cry your pardon!"

She lets go hastily.

[valiantrebel]

"No, it's fine, it's fine!"

He takes her hand again. "Look you."

Slow and steady, up and down, to start.

[tiltingwithlips]

It only takes her a minute to catch on to what he wants. Once she has his rhythm, she shifts closer, the better to steal a kiss.

[valiantrebel]

That happy warmth hits him hard and fast. He can't stop punctuating the kiss with happy groans.

He needs his hands on her; he needs to run his palms over her back and cup her from behind.

[tiltingwithlips]

She lets out a surprised, pleased noise and arches her back, pressing against his hands.

[valiantrebel]

He wants to be patient -- he should want to be patient -- but God, he cannot wait to be inside her.

His fingers find their way to her hair again. His movements are starting to get a little sloppy as he fists and tugs, though he stays careful enough when he bites at her lip.

[tiltingwithlips]

"--!"

She pulls back, blinking at him.

"My lord?"