Simon welcomed her soft, tentative kiss. It was filled with more hesitance and nerves than any of her others, as this one was planned, and not the unintentional product of overwhelming passion.

She trembled slightly against him, and feeling the warm, wet saltiness of her silent, happy tears as they cascaded from her cheeks to his, he wrapped his arms tightly around her with no thought to either his own or her state of undress; but when he pulled her closer, the feeling of her bare, pert breasts against his equally bare chest went anything but unnoticed.

Simon let out a throaty groan, his skin alive, the flesh feeling tight on his bones, as if his body was suddenly too big for it. Reaching up to tangle his hands into her silky chocolate locks, he parted her lips with his own and slid his tongue inside. She moaned in response, body melting against his.
Their tongues curled and pressed against each other in a manner that was as inexperienced as it was becoming increasingly more desperate, but when he felt her wrap a leg around his, and press her now slick sex against his hip, Simon just about lost focus on kissing her entirely.

Blinded by long ungratified but powerful lust, he pulled on her hair to jerk her head back, and expose her long, tanned neck to him so that he could rain kisses down upon it.
Something he had done with Adelaide before, gently and sweetly in the shadows of the stables, but never had those been with so much force or lack or self control.

Delilah felt her skin sizzling at each kiss as if her neck was the hyde of an animal and his mouth the branding iron, and it wasnt long before she realized she was grinding herself against him.
Noticing this himself, Simon pushed her back down onto the bed, before propping himself up and onto his side, and in one swift motion he pulled the blanket completely down and off of her, leaving them both fully exposed, naked before each other.

This time she didnt cower in shame, or scramble for the covers to try and conceal herself from him. Instead she only lay still, wordless, watching him intently and waiting to see what he would do next.
"Delilah, we have to stop while I still can..." He began, the forcible self restraint clearly audible in his now strained voice, but despite his words, it was only a moment before his free hand reached out trace the outline of her breasts.

She shuddered at his touch, his fingertips searing at her skin much the same way as his mouth had.
"So soft..." He said quietly, more to himself than to her.
"You are outside all day, how are you still so soft...?"
His hand trailed cautiously to her peak, as if waiting to be slapped away, but she didn't stop him.
When he ran his thumb over her hardened nipple, and then pinched it gently she couldn't help but gasp.
The sharp sound brought him once again to his senses, and to how close he was to losing every ounce of control and taking her virtue before it was appropriate.

"We shouldn't..." He reiterated, starting to pull away.
"Simon...." She pleaded, snatching his hand before he could fully remove it, and pressing it back against her flesh.
"We dont have to...," she paused, swallowing hard and trying to find the right words to express what she was feeling.
"Do... all that." She said through a sigh.
"But can you please just... keep your hands on me a while longer. I feel as though I've been waiting forever to be touched like this, for your touch, and I think if I have to wait any longer, even the time it would take us to go down the mountain and back, I just might go insane. We won't go too far, I promise, I just need you to touch me right now please."

Simon's jaw tensed at the need in her voice, and his Adam's apple bobbed nervously up and down as he processed her sensuous request.
"Alright.. " He slowly agreed, relaxing the hand that was in her grip and laying it this time just below her neck.
Stomach turning with a potent mixture of lust, weariness and nerves, he began tracing her collarbone with the tip of his forefinger.
Delilah sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back into the pillow.
As his confidence and intimate curiosity returned, he drew his hand lower, cupping her breast, and soon his hesitance was slipping away further and further with each of his soft, steady caresses, and every one of her soft sighs of pleasure,

Bringing his hand to her clavicle, his gaze roamed lower, eyes scanning her body like an adventurer to a map of places he wished to explore.
He noticed the the lines of muscle across her stomach, six of them, solid and square, the kind he didnt know women could even obtain.
Fascinated, he began to trace down and along them, leaving a trail of burning flesh as she did.

Though it was late in the year, Delilah's body felt as if it were the most sweltering day of summer, and as his hand drew lower and lower, the heat between her thighs, which had already been quite powerful, grew steadily hotter until it was near unbearable.
When his hand reached her navel, a uncontrolled jerk ripped through her and as if not of her own accord, her back arched high off the bed and when her hips suddenly moved upwards, the motion caused his hand to unintentionally slide down until it stopped between her legs.

Simon gasped in a mixture of suprise, fear, and lust, his already swollen manhood twitching in response to the warm slickness his fingers had just met with. The sudden contact to her most intimate place made her moan louder than she had ever, an incredible rush of foriegn pleasure seemed to cripple her; and she couldn't help but push her hips even higher, pressing herself further into his hand.

Shocked, incredibly aroused, but most prominently, unsure of what to do, Simon froze, but when her body began relaxing back down onto the bed, his hand followed, unable to break its near shameless contact. His gaze moved from her body and returned to her eyes, and when he wasn't greeted with the shock or insult he was expecting, and instead he found her midnight eyes to be filled with an obvious pleading, tentitivly he began to trace her there as well.

Delilah moaned loudly and seemed to be fighting shivers at his every stroke, particularly whenever his fingers brushed against the harder flesh at the top. Taken over by a sudden, powerful, but indescribable urge, Simon began to dip a finger inside, slowly and cautiously, like one might dip a toe into unknown waters.
But his action was quickly rewarded with another throaty moan, and the rising of her hips to grind further onto his hand. Delilah lowered herself once again, and he carefully began to explored her walls, her flesh feeling like hot, wet, silk around his digit.
Simon almost jumped when her hand flew out and grabbed his invading one.
He froze, expecting her to pull it away, and tell him that they had gone plenty far enough, but instead, she gripped it tightly and began to move him until the point of his inserted finger stopped against a nub that was both hard and fleshy all at the same time; next she began guiding him in steady, circular motions, teaching him exactly how to pleasure her like she very rarely did herself.

It didn't take very long until she removed her hand, for Simon had always learned quickly and he soon had her sprawled out on the bed, gripping the sheets tightly and mumbling for him not to stop.
His strokes became steadily more rapid as his own excitement grew, and Delilah felt distantly familiar sensation of her stomach beginning to wind, but it had never felt so strong as it did now, growing more and more intense with every movement he made. Her vision became blurry, and the world seemed to be pulling at her from all angles, as if begging for her to come apart, and a few moments later, she did just that.

"Oh Simon....!" She called out.
In an instant Delilah felt what she thought might closely be compared to being struck by lightning, and then being set on fire immediately after. An explosion of raging yet simultaneously blissful pleasure ripped through her, starting in her core and spreading throughout her body in a series of heavy, crashing waves.

When it was finally over, she was a heaving mess, feeling as if she had melted like hot candle wax into the bed.
The sights and sounds of the what he had just done left him harder than he had ever been in his life, a fact that now was brought more center to his attention now that the distraction of pleasuring her was over.
The painful throbbing made him glance down at himself, and unknown to him, her eyes followed, he reached for it, not intending to do anything other than to grip tightly it to stop the terrible throb.
"Let me...." She reached over quickly and batted his hand away.

"Oh no Delilah that's not what I was..."
He began to explain but all words and thoughts were quickly removed from his mouth and brain when she took him in her grasp and began to caress his shaft. The surprise of it, and after all that had just happened between them, he was already so incredibly aroused that it only took a brief moment of her delicate contact to bring forth an unexpected climax of his own.
"Ahhhh!" He cried in a mixture of suprise and pleasure, shuddering uncontrollably as he began spurting all over her hand and himself.

"I'm sorry about this buddy. I know you just got back up here."
Simon apologized to the large horse, giving Pompaii a supportive pat on his rather rotund rear end after the beast had been saddled.
"Are you ready yet woodswoman?"
He called into the cabin, for he had been waiting our front for Delilah.
"Coming my lord."
She called back with semi sarcasm from inside, and a moment later stepped out onto the porch.

"Woah..."
Simon couldn't help but say when he saw her. She looked so incredibly different, standing before him in elegant, form fitting, midnight blue dress. It had an ornate, deep brown leather collar and a matching cinch at the front of the waist. The fabric matches her eyes and the accents did the same for her hair.
The poor widow in the village truly had been an artist with a keen eye.
Her hair which he had only ever seen completely loose or in a simple tail down her back was braided completely up and around her head.
The braid was slightly uneven, and several untucked strands had been missed by her hands, a sign of her obvious lack of practice, but even that did nothing to take from how breathtaking she appeared.

"How do I look?"
She asked, wringing her hands together shyly. Feeling quite out of place in the elegant garment, but it had looked so pretty in her closest, and she had figured that when would she ever have the occasion to wear the blasted useless thing if not on her wedding day.

"Like a vision."
He shook his head.
"Though I think I preferred you with nothing at all."
Delilah blushed crimson at his words, but her sarcastic nature quickly bit back her embarrassment.
"When we get back tonight, I'll gladly oblige your choices in my fashion."
She answered with a challenging grin.
It was Simon's turn to blush at her words.
"Well... Uh... very well then."
He squeaked out boyishly before turning away from her to mount the horse.
"Well, we better go and get married then."
He held out a hand to help her on behind him.

Delilah could barely contain her excitement as they rode down the mountain together, and she was glad to be behind Simon so that he could not see what she knew to be a series of awkward, silent expressions of ecstatic glee. Her hands would tighten around his waist occasionally, hugging him tightly and burying her face into his back, still unable to believe that it was actually happening.

The trip seemed to pass faster than it ever had, and soon the smoke from the large village could be tasted in the air, and its not long before the tallest of the thatched rooftops came into view from above the trees, the steeple of the church.

After tying Pompeii out and tossing a small coin to a rather poor looking boy to fetch him some water, Delilah placed her hand into Simon's awaiting one and together they walked into the place of worship.
It had been quite a while since Delilah had stepped foot into this particular building, the last time had been years ago, after her mother's passing.
It was aged and weatherworn but the timber, much like everything else was well kept, replaced she knew in several places with wood cut down by her own father. It had one solitary stained glass window at the very back, and its placement allowed for lovely rays of multi colored light to stream down upon the alter. It was no church for royals, and she was sure Simon had seen much grander, but for the people of the town it was enough.

The doors were wide open, per usual, and stepping inside Delilah inhaled the familiar scent of burning holy oils.
In the corner of the room stood the holy man, lightning candles at a smaller alter.
"Welcome woodswoman."
He raised his eyes to hers and the old man clad in simple brown robes and now near pearlescent white hair smiled.
"Father Michael."
She greeted in response, giving him a respectful nod. He had always been kinder to her than most in the village, particularly after the death of her mother.
He extinguished the lighting flame on the edge of the rod with a short puff of air, after setting it down, he straightened out the front of his robes and began walking towards them.
"Its been a while. How may I be of service to you today my children?"
Father Michael acknowledged both of them with a natural warmth that Simon found so refreshing compared to the stiff and formal clothsmen of Aelfords Citidale.

"We'd like to be married." Simon spoke up for the first time since entering the holy domain.
"How wonderful." The old man broke out into a beaming smile that went clear up into his greying blue eyes.
"Your mother would be so pleased if she were here right now."
Father Micheal said to Delilah.
"And look at him...,"
He continued, motioning towards Simon with a knowing, playful smirk.
"Tall, Strapping, and he even seems to have all his teeth. Very proud indeed."
He patted her on the shoulder in a very fatherly way.
Simon had never seen a priest with such a sense of humor, and he found himself beginning to like the old man.

"And just when would you like this wonderous union to take place?"
The holyman asked folding his hands in front of his robes.
"Now. If possible." Answered Delilah, forcing back the glee in her voice, her hand gripping tightly at Simon's with visible excitement.
"Hmmmmm..., I'll have to check my schedule." The priest replied.
Delilah felt her heart sink, hating the thought of waiting any longer.

The priest brought his hand to his chin and looked around the empty church back and forth.
"I think I just might have an opening."
He stated through a rather sarcastic shrug. "Follow me."

He led them to the alter, and had them wait as he gathered the necessary vials of holy oil lit several more candles and then pulled out a rather worn looking leather bound book, flipping it open and grabbing a quill he turned back to them.
"Before we can begin, in order to make this official, the church requires some information about both intrested parties. Mainly names, and places of birth and such. " He informed, dipping the long grey feather in some ink and scraping off the excess.
"So let's see, for you my dear I don't need that much, for if I do recall correctly, Delilah Catalpa, daughter of Albim and Henrietta Catalpa."

"That is correct." Confirmed Delilah.
Simon realized that he had never heard her last name before, or the names of her parents.
"Good. Good. And you my son?"
Father Micheal turned his attention to the stranger in his church.
"I suppose you'd need my official name, though I never really fancied it."
Simon inquired.
"I do." Nodded the priest, quill at the ready.
"I am Sir Simon Dundst, Master Of Horses. Son of Anderson and Simone Dundst... and yes I was named after my mother." That last part he turned to Delilah to explain, it was something he had never told her.
"A lord? Delilah, Delilah, why am I not surprised? Aelford refugee I take it?"
He shook his head, scribbling down the name.
Simon nodded, the pit of sadness that had been masked all day by his happiness returning.
"We've had our share here, and I do my best to help them. Most seem to want to wait the war our so that can go back to their homeland. Is that the case with you my Lord?" Asked the holyman.
"No. I have no desire to go back. With my Queen dead, there is nothing really to go back too." Responded Simon.

"She isnt dead." Stated Father Micheal nonchalantly, not even bothering to look up from his writing.
"What?!?" Simon gasped, feeling as if he had just been kicked in the stomach by the biggest mare in the stables.
"What did you just say?" He asked frantically, reaching out to grab the mans hand and get his full attention.
Sensing the urgency in the young mans voice, father Micheal set his book down upon the alter.
"I said your Queen isnt dead. Or at least that is what the pair of refugees I had in here yesterday told me. Said that she was holed with the remainders of her army in some other castle."

The summer castle.
The words of the elderly man of the clothe hit Simon so hard that he began to tremble.
Adelaide was alive.

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A/N: Hello flowers!
I hope you all like the new title and cover. I made it myself. :)
Thiw only took a ridiculous amount of time. Over 3k words in this chapter guys, I haven't written a chapter that long in AGES.
This was such a rollercoaster ride.
I hope you all enjoyed it, and I quite eagerly await your comments and thoughts.
All my love
-QueenOfGeeks

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