Elizabeth Mortimer, called Kate Percy (
tiltingwithlips) wrote2013-04-05 08:50 pm
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with this ring, I thee wed
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.
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.
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"I -- oh." Her cheeks are starting to flush. "My lord, a high-born maid should never stray so low."
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A small twist of his wrist and he's laid two fingers on her. And oh, she is a lady, but she's wonderful and soft as well. He runs each finger down each side, then, at the top again, an experimental roll. "How does that feel?"
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"Very well, lord."
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They'll keep doing it, then.
"I'd hear of it, if there is something thou likest."
In the meantime, her other breast requires attention as well.
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"Then, Harry, my lord, kiss me."
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And oh, does he kiss her.
(And no, his fingers don't stop.)
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He can't help some noises of his own -- but he's holding himself together. Enough, at least, to spread her folds and tease a finger inside.
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She moans again against his lips. Her hips shift up towards him of their own volition.
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"And what else, my lady?"
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It's hard to focus. She inhales, swallows.
"That -- that, yes. And what thou didst before--"
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He rolls his thumb again.
"This?"
Or perhaps she meant the kissing with teeth.
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But maybe especially what he's doing with his thumb.
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If a thumb is good, two fingers, one already wet, must surely be better.
(He rubs against her thigh as he moves, and even that little touch is a maddening promise.)
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Then he remembers how much time they've got, tonight and after, and he contents himself.
The key now is to keep it steady.
"Kate--" (and he's breathing a little hard himself) "--how now?"
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(Maybe there's still time. Maybe -- no, no, he is -- taking his wife into account.)
(There's time later.)
(Oh God, she's wet and lovely now.)
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"God's me, Harry, wilt thou chatter even now?"
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Hungryurgent kissing is a good way to do that.
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Whatever it is, it's so close, she wants it, God in heaven--
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"God, oh, Kate--"
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She interrupts herself with a gasp, clutching him close. There. She doesn't know what's happening, but it's happening, it's happening with a vengeance, it's here and she doesn't want it to stop--
But it does stop, after a few seconds, leaving her panting and shaky and blinking at Harry.
"Wilt thou still be talking," she finishes breathlessly.
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