~A Marriage of Fortune~

14th of January 1460, Moulins Cathedral, France....

The morn of January the fourteenth was a chilly one, one of ice where delicate snowflakes kissed the frozen ground but not once did Constance shiver.

Not as she was readied, not as she rode through the streets of Nevers on a pristine white pony, her saddle bearing the white roses of York on its brown leather. Not even as John took her arm outside the great stone building in which she was to be married.

Just seven days after she and Edward had been stood by the lake, she walked down the isle of Moulins Cathedral on a carpet of deep blue velvet emblazoned with Fleur de Lis; the heavy chimes of the church bells still ringing in her ears. She kept her eyes fixed on the great windows set above the stone arches protecting the shadowed cloisters, each a scene from the bible crafted in a myriad of coloured glass.

She dared not look down, knowing she fast approached the noble crowd stood from wooden pews; the spectators of her marriage.

The Earl of Warwick and Sir Thomas, a variety of French nobles, her Mother, her ladies, each of her living brothers and sisters, including Archbishop Charles, the man who would marry her, and Isabella, the great Duchess of Burgundy who'd arrived just the day before with her fine Burgundian retinue.

Constance was sure she'd never seen a woman so grand (apart from her Mother) but Isabella possessed a warmth Agnes did not, making her shine all the more.

It was their Father's warmth. A comforting warmth.

Although she didn't need to, she'd come to her little sister's chambers that morn to help her prepare, bringing with her sprigs of lavender to scent the bath water when it was drawn. It had been almost six years since the two had seen one another but Isabella made it seem as if no time had passed at all with her easy manner which was as kind as it was charming.

She brushed out her sister's hair, slid many rings onto her fingers, helped lace her dress all the while smiling, laughing; effortlessly untying the knots of tension in the air.

Constance glanced down now at her garments, eyes trailing over the fine cloth of silver crafting her gown, the fine feathered cut of her heavy hanging sleeves that almost made it appear she were donning angel wings. A silk belt cinched in waist, embroidered with the emblems of her house, the same ones decorating her white, silk kirtle.

While her gowns were always pretty, she'd never owned one of such loveliness but its ethereal beauty was lost on her in that moment, overwhelmed by the nerves rushing through her veins; twisting her stomach into knots. A part of her wished her sleeves would truly transform into wings, great wings that would carry her back in time to the calm summer months of the year before when she'd only been waiting for destiny - not living it.

Now each step drew her closer to a new life, closing the curtains of her girlhood forever with latin words and a golden ring. Ahead, Charles stood waiting in his bejewelled Archbishops robes before the silk covered alter, the golden crucifix placed upon it rising above his head in all its holy splendour; the eyes of God on earth.

She almost quailed beneath it's gaze of rubies and sapphires.

In front of him stood her betrothed in fine cloth of gold, a heavy chain of office settled on his warrior's shoulders. In the light of the Cathedral, his apparel gleamed, bestowing an angelic glow around his figure which Constance could easily believed was from God himself. Edward looked much more a man that day than a boy.

All too soon she was by his side and John's arm slipped away, leaving her to gather her silver skirts and kneel with Edward before her brother.

Both instinctively bowed their heads as Charles made the sign of the cross over them and began his drone of practiced Latin, the words echoing around the chamber, binding invisible bonds around the young couple.

The unexpected warmth of another's touch was startling and her gaze shot down to see Edward's fingers gently curling around hers, squeezing ever so softly once their hands were intertwined.

He didn't look up, nor did she but the simple contact soothed her more than a thousand words could and she found herself squeezing back. Perhaps he was nervous too - though she doubted it, Edward appeared the epitome of confidence.

"Edward of York, Earl of March" The couple finally raised their heads, the formalities sealed, no objections raised "Will you have this this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as you both shall live?"

Edward's deep voice rang clear throughout the cathedral bearing not an ounce of hesitation.
"I will"

The Archbishop nodded, hands clasped in prayer as he turned to his little sister, sending her a small smile.
"Constance of Bourbon, daughter of Charles, Duke of Bourbon, will you have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall live?"

She took a breath, feeling Edward's hand squeeze hers again as she nodded.
"I will" Although to the onlookers, it was quiet, her voice seemed louder than she'd ever heard it - akin to the boom of a cannon - resonating around her, sealing her fate.

Charles only nodded, taking up the sash of his robes and raising the couple's joined hands to drape the silk over them; offering a prayer alongside the sign of the cross once more. When he stepped back a young boy moved forward, diligently carrying a small cushion, bearing two bands of gold, twisted like rope, each set with a ruby.

The wedding rings.

Constance swallowed, trying to halt the shaking in her breaths as she and Edward turned to one another, the latter reaching out and claiming one of the rings. With a gentle touch, he released her left hand and took up the right, letting their eyes meet as he slid the ring onto her finger, an almost shy glint to his gaze.

So he was nervous....

And still the corners of his lips curved into a small smile, reassuring, encouraging as she reached for the second and he held out his hand, allowing her to slide it onto the right finger.

They each took a breath, the cool metal warming to their skin as she secretly hoped their hearts would to each other. The hands bearing the rings were then taken, hers placed atop his before Charles covered them with one of his own.

"Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. Forasmuch as Edward and Constance have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a Ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce therefore that they be Man and Wife together, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. You may kiss your bride, my Lord"

"Amen" The crowd behind chorused, each crossing themselves as Constance found her eyes captured by Edward's once more. His kind smile remained, continuing to calm her as he leant forward and her lips were met with the soft press of his own.

The kiss was soft, chaste, a mere moment in time before it was over and he'd pulled away but Constance was sure she'd feel the warmth of his kiss all evening, perhaps all night. It left her wide eyed, entranced almost, with a pleasing heat spreading its fingers throughout her body. She was sure she was blushing.

All he did was smile and take her hand again.

༻᯽༺

The copious amount of wine she'd drunk chased away all trace of Edward's kiss, claiming her senses that night for a realm of haziness her nerves revelled in!

"Really, Con, another?" James teased as she lifted her fifth goblet of Burgundian red to her lips but he was much as drunk as she was, almost swaying on his chair so she merely giggled. The music of the minstrels playing in a far corner of the great hall blared in her ears, mingling with the lively chatter and laughter of the wedding guests crowding her home.

The wedding feast was one of great splendour but she doubted she would remember one moment of it. It was all a glittering haze, a lively dream she was happy to stare at, wide eyed and dizzy.

While she did, she wouldn't have to think on what came after....of the pain she would have to endure.

Nobles danced below the dais, women spinning across the floor in an array of silks that blurred into a cloud of elegance and laughter. Beautiful angels, their feet seemed to float, not once touching the ground, delicate slippers dancing on air, hidden by heavy skirts; twirling  around their partners, hands clasped, jewels glimmering.

"So pretty" Constance sighed dreamily and James hummed beside her, halfway through shoving a roasted chicken leg into his mouth.

"The guests or the food?" He asked, slightly slurring but she didn't reply, finding her eyes drift to the centre of the hall where Edward had taken her Mother to dance. Despite the flickers of nervousness she'd seen in the Cathedral, he was all smiles and charm that evening, surprisingly graceful for his size, hopping nimbly from foot to foot while Agnes smiled.

Her husband.....
She lifted the cup to her lips again, flooding her mouth with the only sure solace she could claim.

"It's a strange thought, isn't it?" Her head snapped to the side to see Warwick sliding into the seat next to her "to be married? You are the Countess of March now. Still you shall become acquainted with it easily enough, it shan't even be a thought after twenty years or so" She almost choked on her wine at that, forcing the red liquid down her throat before it ended spattered all over her untouched food.

Twenty years? By God that was longer than she'd been alive! She couldn't imagine being married past this night, let alone two decades away! Through her drunken haze a groan slipped past her lips.

"Oh sweet Lord it's not that bad!" Richard laughed and she turned to him with uncertain eyes, her doubts all too clear, making his soften somewhat. Amusement melted to seriousness "Truly, my Lady and I speak from experience"

"Experience?" She parroted, taking another gulp of wine "I wasn't aware you were married to Lord March, my Lord" Mirth flickered on Warwick's face again, the wine had certainly made her bolder!
"I'm not, my Lady! But I have been married these ten years past and I've known Edward since his birth, he's like a little brother to me and I already have three!"

Constance arched a thoughtful eyebrow, setting down her cup with a thump when she realised there was no wine left.

"What is he like?" She asked quietly, running a finger around the silver rim "is he kind, is he noble? I do not think I shall be frightened of him my Lord but...." She raised her gaze to his "I do not know for sure....."

Richard smiled and tilted his head, looking across the hall to where Edward was still dancing, tossing back his head when he laughed,

"He is one of the kindest Lords you could know" He admitted and beside him, Constance sat up slightly in her seat, leaning in to catch every letter he spoke. Kind, yes, that was what she wanted to hear, that was what she hoped her husband to be "he is a fine warrior and will protect you as his Lady wife always, but...."

He turned to he again, sighing "if fidelity is what you seek then I'm afraid you shall be disappointed. He will not lie faithfully at your feet like a dog" He was almost relieved when she smiled, shaking her head! Her happiness would hardly affect him and yet, he didn't want to see that pretty face of hers fall. From what he'd seen, she was a sweet girl, still in her innocence just like his own two daughters.

An innocence soon to be ravaged by war, he feared. There and then his mind decided he would do what he could to protect her.

"If I were to look for fidelity I certainly wouldn't look for it amongst the male race, my Lord!" She laughed and waved to a nearby page "Apart from perhaps my Father, he never once strayed"
"Never?"
The sharp look she gave him was almost indignant.
"Never"

She turned back to the feast, about to pick up her goblet (once more filled) again when Richard held his hand out to her. If she carried on like that, she'd sleep herself into the next year, he thought, almost sighing with relief when she lowered the cup.

"A dance, my Lady?" He asked "It is after all, your wedding feast, it would be a shame if you did not!" Constance pursed her lips, considering the offer for a moment before nodding and slowly sliding her hand into his.
"I'm afraid you shall have to hold me steady, my Lord!" She confessed as they rose, a girlish giggle bubbling from her when her drunken legs swayed "I find my strength is not well disposed!"

"Few people's is at a wedding, dear girl!" He chuckled, glancing to his brother who looked ready to tumble into the nearest wall from drink "few people's is"

༻᯽༺

"Constance?" A pair of gentle hands shook her shoulders, waking her from the slumber she'd slipped into on the dais; head resting atop her arms. She blinked, trying to make out the face above her, the figure shaking her from peace "Constance, it is time"

She groaned her confusion, noticing her surroundings were unusually silent as she was pulled from her seat on swaying legs and lead by the hand from the dais. Glancing dizzily around she could see the bodies of sleeping nobles slumped here and there, great heaps of silk she giggled at when she passed.

Her husband was nowhere to be seen.

It must have been late, she estimated, perhaps three, maybe four in the morning, and all she wished to do was sleep. While the main effects of the alcohol had been washed away by time, some still slumped through her veins, leaving her with a hurting head and wobbly legs she felt could collapse at any moment.

Had she had the will to resist her leader (whom shed'd realised was Isabella) she would've lain down where she was but she had no strength left, so simply allowed herself to be lead to her chambers.

The air was pleasant inside, kept warm by the steady burn of the amber fire in the hearth. Constance smiled to herself, ready to float into the land of dreams once more when her eyes suddenly caught sight of her bed and her blood ran cold.

"It is time" Her sister had said and in that moment she remembered what it was time for. Her stomach churned, twisting itself into knots as she was lead towards the fire and unfamiliar ladies surrounded her. With cold precision they stripped her of her wedding finery, each jewel, each layer of silk and placed a nightgown of fine silk over her head.

One glance in the mirror nearby almost made her wretch. The garment was almost see-through, it's intention to arouse clear but Constance only felt fear, one of almost blinding intensity. Frozen to the spot, she allowed her long hair to be brushed out, the perfume on her neck and wrists to be refreshed before Isabella waved a hand and the two were left alone.

"Come" She ordered gently and her little sister silently obeyed, each step increasing her terror as she was lead towards her great bed and tucked beneath the covers. The familiar fabrics offered no comfort.

All the time she kept her gaze on the Duchess' face, trying in earnest to distract herself even for a moment. Isabella's beauty was indisputable, her confidence even less so, but so was her warmth, her kindness which even then resonated in the small smile curving rosebud lips.

"Here" She offered, perching on the edge of the covers to offer a cup of water "this shall sober you up a little"
"Do I wish to be sober?" Constance replied quietly, closing her trembling fingers around the goblet but she dared not take a sip. She wished she'd drunk more, she wished she'd drunk herself into oblivion then perhaps Edward would've done what he needed to do and she would've remembered none of it.

Richard told her her husband would not be faithful and, while it stung slightly, perhaps she would be grateful for it? Perhaps if being bedded was so bad she would be happy for him to be in the arms of others?

"Your grace?"
Isabella tilted her head, chuckling.
"Isabella, sweet one" She replied, shuffling closer "there need be no formality between us, we are sisters. All I wish for is to soothe whatever worries I can see you carry" Her fingers gently brushed Constance's cheek and she shivered, though not from cold.

"I'm frightened...." She confessed aloud at last and Isabella's heart ached. She looked so small, so young in her large bed, quailing before her duty. The Duchess had felt much the same on her own wedding night. Setting the cup to one side, she took her sister's hands, if there was any kindness she could ever do her, it was one now.

"Of Lord March?"
Constance shook her head.

"Nay....I'm don't think I'm frightened of him...." She admitted "I'm frightened of what....of what he will do to me....I've heard it will hurt and Mother's told me nothing and what if I cannot please him? That is what I'm meant to do is it not? But I don't know how and how am I supposed to find out if it all hurts...." At each new aspect of her fears, her voice rose, quickening with her heart until a small sob broke free of her lips and two heavy tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Connie! Connie!" Isabella cried "oh my sweet little sister, come here" As tenderly as she cradled her own infant daughter, Mary, she drew her little sister into her arms, tucking her head beneath her chin while she cried "I know the fear you feel but if your husband is gentle as I think he will be then the great pain you fear will not come. It hurts a little, at first but....then it feels quite nice"

Sniffing, Constance raised her head, a sea of confusion swimming in her eyes.
"Quite nice?" She repeated rather sheepishly "is it meant to?" Isabella nodded, smoothing back the soft brown hair from her face as she settled her back into the covers.

"Yes. I believe God would not make it so if he didn't intend it to be that way, no matter what the holy book says" A soft knock at the door made the two look up but Isabella gently caught her sister's chin, making their eyes meet again "Do not fear, Connie, all will be well" She said softly before kissing her forehead "Goodnight"

"Goodnight" Constance squeaked, barely able to breathe while Isabella left the chamber, leaving her alone for one solitary moment before Edward's large figure appeared in the doorway.

Like her, he was divested of his wedding finery, donning only his shirt and breeches as he strode into the room. The firelight illuminated his soldier's frame, making his shadows dance along the walls and Constance pulled up the covers to her chest. He came to pause at the end of the bed, finally looking at her with a small smile.

"Good evening" He greeted "Or is it morning, I can't quite tell" She forced a smile of her own but was unable to hide the way his voice made her tremble. Kind as it was, it was still a reminder of him.

Suddenly, the mattress beside her dipped and she jumped, watching Edward take the place her sister held moments ago. Looking up into his face, she realised his smile had fallen to a frown of concern, one that only increased when he reached out to cradle her jaw and she flinched.

"You tremble because of me, my Lady?" The softness of his voice was a surprise to her, so different from the accusing tone she'd imagined if he found her cold. She managed to shake her head.

"No, my Lord, it is only...." She paused "I do not think that I will make a very good Queen" Edward's smile returned, wider than before and his fingers gently trailed down to her jaw, tilting it up slightly.

"Don't fret" He told her "you have a long time yet to learn and you shall learn from the best, my own Mother! You're certainly pretty enough to wear a crown, sweetheart" She couldn't help but blush, the unfamiliar endearment turning her cheeks a fiery red her husband chuckled at. The knot in her stomach eased somewhat.

Raising a hand to the front of her nightgown, she began to tug at the strings, deciding it was best to proceed when her nerves were somewhat settled, only to find Edward's hand covering hers, gently tugging it away. She frowned in confusion, fearing she'd blundered.

"What do you want me to do, my Lord?"
He only smiled, keeping her hand in his as he gently pulled her from the bed. Just like in the chapel, his fingers wrapped around hers served to soothe her and she didn't try to let go as they walked towards the fire, stopping at the chair before it.

"Would you like a little wine, sweetheart?"
Despite knowing she'd had more than enough that night, she nodded, watching as Edward reached for the crystal decanter on a nearby table and filled the glass beside it. Swilling the crimson liquid around the goblet, he raised it to his lips and took a sip, humming appreciatively before flopping down into the chair.

Taking another sip, he watched his bride, the way her soft hair fell over her pretty face, tumbling down to her waist in soft waves "Come" He invited, holding out a hand "sit with me" Her eyes found his, hesitant yet with an ounce of trust in their green depths, coaxing her to accept.

Stepping forward, Constance slowly lowered herself onto his lap, never letting their gaze break. Once she was settled, he lifted the glass to her lips, coaxing her to take a small sip before he took a third "Good?" She nodded, swallowing.

Edward smiled, gently brushing her hair behind her shoulders. He'd never bedded a maid before, that much was true but he knew it would hurt her and that was the last thing he wished for. Constance was kind, sweet, he didn't want her to be afraid "You needn't be frightened of me. I swore an oath before God to protect you and come what may I shall shield you always"

"It is not you I am frightened of, my Lord...."
"Edward, call me Edward" He corrected gently, making her eyes widen "or Ned if you will, that is what my close kin do call me"

"Are you sure, my lord? That seems very....intimate"
"We are married, are we not? There are few arrangements more intimate than that" She took a moment to consider before nodding, another pink blush staining her cheeks.

"My close kin call me Connie" She said and he smiled.
"Connie. Tis as pretty as you" Her blush deepened, the knot in her stomach unravelling by the second. There was something so easy about Edward, so openly affable! Like an open flame in winter, she couldn't help but warm to it.

"It is not you I fear, Edward, it is....the act" She admitted and he tilted his head, taking another sip of wine.
"What did your Mother tell you? Your sisters?"
"Isabella is the only one who is married, Marie, our oldest sister died, you see, when I was four. Isabella said that at first it hurts but then...."
"Then what" He prompted.
"Then it feels quite nice"

A small smirk lit his lips at that.
"Would you like me to show you just how nice it can feel?" Constance took a breath, pausing only slightly before she nodded and Edward's eyes lit with something unknown "Then let us start with a kiss"

Gently cupping her jaw, he guided her lips to his, almost laughing at the soft gasp she gave. Hot sparks erupted in her veins, the kiss proving far more intense, far more real than the one in the chapel. It was not of duty but of desire and she found herself returning it, disappointed when he pulled away.

One arm encircled her waist and he raised her hand, gently turning it to place a kiss to her wrist. He frowned at the purple crescents he found upon the contrastingly pale palms of her hands; the result of her neves, though he did not know it.

"A childhood habbit" She murmured when he held her hand to the firelight to study the dark bruises. His frown dipped further and he smoothed a thumb over her palm, eyes momentarily flicking to her face to search for any traces of discomfort as he did so.

He seemed satisfied when he found none yet he did not let her hand go again, he brought it to his lips and began to kiss each of the crescent marks. The touches were gentle, simple, a brush of the lips but Constance's heart warmed beneath her gown as if he had just enveloped her within the most passionate embrace of her life!

He made his task a work of tenderness, touching his lips to a bruise before smoothing his thumb over it and repeating these steps on the next he found. On both hands he lavished such attention, making sure he missed not one patch of bruised skin before he held them up to the firelight once more and finally lay them to rest.

"There" He murmured "All better" Constance could feel her skin burn with newfound affection for Edward at that moment and she longed to return his tenderness, to show him that she had grown to care for him! Looking about his face, her eyes searched for any sign of injury that she could remedy, finally settling upon a small cut marring his lower lip.

She'd not noticed it before but was glad it was there.

Raising a hand, she brushed a finger across the angry crimson line and leant forward; gently pressing her lips to his. She lingered there for a moment, revelling in the sweetness of their kiss, before drawing away and smiling shyly at Edward. His eyes had changed now, from piercing blue to an almost darker hue that was filled with desire.

It excited her.

"There, all better" She told him, repeating his own words but the King shook his head, a small smirk curving his inviting mouth.
"Not quite, I think you may need to try again, Connie"

Returning her lips to his, their kiss quickly deepened and Constance found herself leaning more and more into his embrace, shivering with pleasure for the first time as he ran his hands over her back, warmth pressing through her thin nightgown. She kissed his lips, his cheeks and his kisses began to wander along her jaw, down her neck where he paused to suck gently on the soft skin he found.

A soft moan was elicited from her and she gasped in surprise at herself. Edward merely chuckled, settling back in his chair to watch with pure lust in the depths of his eyes. Depths she found she wished to drown in, almost all of her fear vanished.

He gently slid his hands around her body and up to her chest where the delicate laces holding her nightgown together lay. With gentle movements, he began to tug on them, slipping the strands of silk from their neat bows.

Her breath hitched slightly as she felt the material falling from her. Her gown was all but translucent to the eye so she was sure that Edward had seen some of what lay beneath the silk but to have it removed from her so there could be no doubt her new husband could see her was another matter entirely!

She'd never been touched by a man, she'd hardly ever spoken to one apart from her brother....

Two fingers tilted up her chin and she realised she had cast her gaze to her lap when Edward's eyes were suddenly staring into hers, tenderness clouding the lust that swam within them.

"You have nothing to fear, sweetheart" He whispered and a small smile curved her lips. She believed him. Coaxing her into another kiss, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders, beginning to slide down the sleeves of her nightgown, lowering the silk to her waist.

After a few moments, he drew away and his gaze wandered hungrily up and down her body. One hand trailed to her breasts, gently cupping one and brushing over a nipple that hardened at his touch. Constance gasped, her eyes fluttering closed, finding a sudden weakness claim her, hot and demanding.

"Are you alright?" He asked and she nodded, relishing the gentle squeeze he gave to her breast before pulling away once more to tug his shirt over his head. There was no hesitation with him and as he tossed it to the side, Constance could not help but admire the strong body revealed to her, the strong chest, the muscled arms that she wished would wrap around her again "Come" He told her and raised her from his lap.

She instinctively clutched at her nightgown to keep it slipping away completely but Edward's hand covered hers, gently tugging at it "Let go, Connie" and she obeyed, letting the silk pool at her feet while he nuzzled softy into her neck.

With an effortless grace, he swept her from her feet and carried her over to the bed where their marriage would truly be made, once a place of fear, now a place of excitement.

Every second, his gaze held hers, reassuring, tender yet still tinted with that lust that scared and excited the woman in his arms. Laying her in the centre of the bed, Constance forced her arms to lie stationary at her side instead of trying to cover herself. Still watching her, Edward removed his breeches and grinned when her eyes wandered up and down his body, widening at his desire for her.

"Will it hurt, Edward?"
"Ned" He told her gently "And a little bit but I will be careful, I promise" Climbing onto the bed beside her, he took to kissing her neck once more, one arm tugging her close so that they were pressed together. Constance felt a rush of pleasure flood her veins, engulfing her senses as the rising heat of her body mingled with his.

Smoothing a hand over her belly, her breath hitched again when he began to slide it lower, stopping just before his fingers glided between her legs "Do you trust me?" He asked and she nodded, allowing her thighs to part, an unfamiliar wetness between them.

She wanted him.....

Edward was careful as he eased one finger inside of her, kissing her passionately to distract from the pinch of burning pain that she felt. He waited a moment before beginning to move, gliding his finger in and out of her until her breaths came heavy and he knew the pain had turned to pleasure. She moaned when he added a second, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him close.

She did not know what had come over her but suddenly her blood boiled hot with lust and a want for the man who carefully manoeuvred himself over her. Moving his fingers in and out, he kissed her neck, suckled her breasts, moving between her legs when they parted of their own accord, wanting him, needing him.

"Ned...." She whimpered, the tight pressure coiling within her stomach growing tighter still as she rocked her hips.

"Connie" He groaned against her neck, his cock hard and heavy against her stomach, desperately wanting to be inside her. But, for a man who loved his own pleasure, he knew he had to take his time.

She cried out his name when the ever-tightening coil finally snapped and she felt a rush between her thighs, making her back arch; body tremble with pleasure. Her chest rose and fell with unequal breaths making her head spin! Never in her life had she imagined she could feel as she did then, happy, pleasured, soaring to the clouds with Edward above her; golden curls framing his face.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?"
She nodded, parting her legs further so she could wrap them around his waist, assuring him of her willingness. Raising her head, she kissed him slowly, relishing the sweet taste of wine on his lips.

"Ours is a marriage of fortune, my lord, but perhaps the fortune is for more than our families...." She whispered "out of all the men I could've called husband, God chose you and I believe there is fortune in that" He pushed into her, slowly, as gently as he could until she hissed a little with pain. He stopped, waiting a few moments before she moved her hips oh so slightly, encouraging him deeper within her.