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The King chuckles lightly at Simon’s surprise, “She is my eldest,” he begins,“Honestly? A fussy brat when it comes to marriage, too picky for her own good. Every suitor we’ve introduced has fallen short in her eyes. But she cannot prolong marriage any longer, I need to ensure she can lead this Kingdom when I am gone.”

“But, your majesty, I-”

“She will accept it.” the King interrupts with an unbending certainty. “She does not talk to me on these matters, but my beloved wife tells me that she is rather... fond of you, for whatever reason that may be.”

Simon had only met you a handful of times, at ceremonies or other boring royal events. You were always friendly to him, of course, but he had never imagined it extended beyond mere courtesy. Never entertained the idea that you may think of him for more than a fleeting moment.

The thought of resisting laying down his sword no longer finds its way to his lips, now silenced by the King’s proposition. Marriage was never in the cards for a man like Simon—he's too rough, too guarded, they all say— let alone with the cherished princess of the realm.

But if so, why does the mere mention of such a union not fill him with a sense of dread, but with something akin to anticipation, want, even?

At Simon's pause, the King continues, “If you wish, you may speak with her yourself. Hear her mind from her own lips. But I do believe she will be pleased with this arrangement, as will I.”

The King doesn’t elaborate on that last part—he doesn't need to—Simon understands the unspoken words. He was practically born into the castle, his mother had been working for the royal family when he was born and he lived in palace walls, becoming a knight at a very young age. Loyal to the Kingdom ever since, which is why he knows the King trusts him implicitly, with his own life and, by extension, yours.

The King’s handshake seals the pact, a smile playing on his lips. And whilst Simon’s acceptance was partly the reason for such an expression, the King failed to mention one other thing.

Conveniently forgetting to tell Simon you were a nightmare to handle. A tempest that no suitor had managed to yet tame. But Simon's not a delicate prince, he's a fighter—even now—one that's won countless battles. So if he can handle the bloodshed in war, surely he can face the storm that is you.

At least, the King hopes so.

Simon's not sure he's ever heard the word, “No” so much in his entire life. The sound is a constant on your tongue and the two of you weren’t even married yet.

“No, I’m not attending that dinner.”

“No. I refuse to bow to the whims of the court on this matter. It's our wedding, not theirs.”

“No, Simon, I refuse to wear that!”

The nobles frequently whisper about the turbulent nature of the union, always some form of gossip wondering just how long the old knight can endure the storm that is his future bride.

Simon though, he knows he’ll be just fine. He's faced many hardships in his time as a knight, never one to shy away from challenges and back then the only reward he got was decent food and a bed. With you as a prize there really is no limit to what he'd do and he knows he’d gladly weather any storm you came at him with.

For Simon, there was no sweeter victory, than you.

After settling the arrangement with the King, Simon quickly discovered your troublesome character. He knew you were a force to be reckoned with of course, but what he hadn’t expected, was the pride that swells in his chest every time you stand your ground, even when you use that stubborn tongue against him.

Simon finds himself standing in awe of you and your stubborn will. In the eye of your storm, he discovers a woman who is greatly independent and loyal to those she cares for, not at all the brat the court likes to make you out to be.

“Don’t worry... I’m sure it isn't too late to back out of this arrangement.” an older man speaks, tearing him from his thoughts, "I'm certain even the King himself would understand."

“Back out?” Simon questions, puzzled, as he looks away from the man, not entirely sure he wants to waste his breath.

“Haven’t you heard?” the man tuts, shaking his head in disapproval, “The princess is notoriously difficult. She’ll have you on a leash before you know it!”

Simon’s eyes follow you, taking in the graceful sway of your hips as you move throughout the ballroom. “Is that meant to deter me?” he replies, a little too bluntly than is perhaps polite. “I have no problem letting my future wife take the reins, she is royalty, after all.”

He pauses, gaze lingering on your form, “Besides, I am a knight…or was. Following orders is second nature to me. If my wife wishes to put me on a leash, I’d get on my knees and play the role with pride.”

In Simon’s eyes, you were not nearly a nightmare at all. Challenging? Yes, he would be a fool to deny that, but in a way that ignited his passion. You were intelligent and valued your autonomy. Those who found you demanding were simply the ones who didn’t give you the respect you deserved, and Simon had come to realise that your responses were always justified.

To him, you were simply a graceful princess, who would one day make a great Queen. One that would surely stand apart from your family as you always voiced your displeasure for outdated customs and refused to be confined by them. You challenge Simon, but your spirit also inspires him, pushing him to be better and himself pushing past the traditions that he was once so familiar with in his knighthood.

“Come, come—I want to dance with you.” you beam, excitement evident as you rush over to him. Simon puts down his glass and stands almost instinctively, he knows he would follow you anywhere if you were to just smile at him like that so there is no point in him pretending otherwise.

A pretty, soft melody fills the ballroom as you lead him towards the centre. A small laugh leaves your lips as you see his apprehension and it's a beautiful sound, one he could listen to endlessly, never growing tired of it, even if it was at his expense.

Both of your eyes gleam under the warm cascading glow of the lights and Simon can’t help but smile, a rare softness gracing his features. The two of you dance, lost in the feeling. Simon’s strong, yet gentle grip, holds you steady, one hand respectfully roams along your lower back, causing a slight shiver to run across your skin.

In this moment, it was just the two of you. He wasn’t a hardened knight, just Simon and you were just two souls, enjoying this dance together.

And maybe his soul was always yours because here with you, he feels like he belongs, more than he ever has in his entire life. Everything else around you fades to nothing as he twirls you around, your movements fluid as you both melt into each other. Your steps were effortless but he tried his hardest to keep up, even if fancing was not his strongsuit.

“You’ve been practising the dance.” you smirk at him, admiring the glint in his eyes.

“Well I can’t embarrass my darling wife on our wedding day, can I? I have to get my practice in sometime.” He chuckles lowly and it’s a sound that goes straight to your core. Right now as you look at him, you silently curse yourself for insisting the two of you wait until the wedding night.

You looked at him then like he was the only person in the room and it was something Simon hadn’t known he was missing in his life. There was a slight flutter in his chest that he’d never felt before and he wouldn't have imagined the first time would be with the royal princess—no—his wife to be.

The music flowed and there was not a single worry in your mind, the night was just pure bliss as you felt his hand in yours, the other one lovingly caressing your waist, ocassionally dipping down a little too low to be proper but in this moment you couldn't find it in you to lecture him.

The night slowly winds down as you rest your head on Simon’s chest, a sigh of pure contentment escaping your lips. He held you close, his heart swelling with a tenderness that he would never be able to voice. His touch felt natural, familiar, as if you two were already years into marriage. Nobody would guess that the wedding was still a few weeks away with how you two looked at each other now.

“I’m grateful to be the man you marry.” he says, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and the smile you gave in response almost brought him to his knees, he felt he could die a happy man, then and there.

“I am too.” you whisper.

No more words were needed, the answer was in the way you held him tighter, the way you looked up at him adoringly and in the way your heartbeat matched his.

The night was still, the complete opposite of the bustle currently ongoing in the castle. A lot of preparation was underway in advance for tomorrow. The wedding day of the Princess would be a massive day for the kingdom, a day your Father feared would never come, but thankfully Simon had knocked you off your feet and honestly, you, him.

The soft glow of the moonlight filters through the window as you stand in your chamber. A playful smile tugs at your lips as you watch Simon linger in the doorway, reluctant to leave.

“Si, you really must go,” you insist, trying to sound stern, but the laughter in your voice betrays you. “It’s almost midnight, and you know you can’t see me before the wedding.”

Simon smirks, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes soft as they hold yours. “I’ve faced down armies, my love. You really think I’m afraid of a little superstition?”

“Yes,” you replied with a mischievous grin, stepping slightly closer to him. “Because if you stay, I’ll tell everyone that the brave knight Simon was too smitten to follow a simple tradition.”

“Then tell them, it’s not like they don’t already know.” he chuckles, “When people hear my name, I'm not sure anyone even remembers the once feared knight. My image has already been shattered, I've been reduced to a lovesick puppy….And for you, I am perfectly okay with that.”

As he speaks, he crosses the room and gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as if he can’t quite bear to part from you. You catch his hand, holding it between your own as you look up at him,“It’s only until tomorrow,” you whisper, though the words were as much for yourself as for him.

Simon reluctantly sighs, leaning down as he peppers kisses along your jaw, “I suppose I’ll have to manage until tomorrow-” he practically whines, the dramatics not lost on you. It's a far cry from the image he once portrayed but you couldn't love this side of him any less.

Reluctantly, he steps back, letting your hands slip from his as he turns to leave. But before he crosses the doorway, he pauses, clutching his chest dramatically as you playfully roll your eyes at him and shoo him out. “Sleep well, my future wife,” he says softly as he finally retreats and you love how the endearment slips out so easily. You already know he’ll be referring to you as 'his wife' at any chance he gets after tomorrow’s done and you wouldn't want it any other way.

“Sleep well too,” you reply with a tender smile, watching him go though you long to pull him back.

The room felt emptier without him, but your heart was full of the promise of tomorrow, of the life you were about to begin together. You sighed, turning towards the window, where the moon hung high in the sky, serene and bright, hopeful. Tomorrow, you would walk down the aisle, and everything would change.

It was funny really, you never dreamed about marriage before Simon and he never considered it until you. You were complete opposites in some ways, but also not so different at all, you both had come to realise.

As you lay in bed that night, sleep seemed like a foreign concept. Your mind was a whirl of thoughts and dreams of what was to come. You thought of Simon, of the way he looked at you, his eyes full of love and unwavering devotion. You thought of how he had become your anchor, your partner in all things. You imagined everything with him, even the sappy things you know he’d tease you about.

Your heart fluttered with hope and joy as you imagined the ceremony. The moment when you would stand before him, declaring your love and commitment for all to see. The future felt like a beautiful mystery, but one you were quite looking forward to experiencing together.

Across the vast castle, Simon too lay awake, staring at the ceiling of his chamber, his thoughts consumed by you. He had experienced so much in his life, but nothing had ever filled him with the same mix of joy and anticipation as the thought of marrying you.

He replayed your smile in his mind, the sound of your laughter, the way you had banished him from your room with that playful sparkle in your eyes. He couldn’t help but smile at the image, his heart swelling with a love that threatened to consume him.

And of course, you both dreamed of the wedding night.

You longed to trace every line of his skin, to press your lips tenderly against the scars that told stories only his body could share. You wanted to know him in every way, unravel him completely as you both explore each other in the most intimate way.

Simon, in turn, imagined the delicate fabric of your white dress, how it would softly fall away, revealing the woman he had adored from afar for so long. He envisioned the way the soft candlelight would catch the gentle curves of your form, the way your eyes would hold his as you became one. The thought of your shared breath, your intertwined souls, and the closeness that awaited forever after that filled his mind with a longing that was both tender and bold.

The sun emits an ethereal golden glow that settles over the castle as the day begins. The halls buzz with activity, people rush back and forth, the final touches being put in place. Even the Kingdom itself was hectic, everyone preparing to celebrate the long awaited royal wedding.

But in your chambers, everything was surprisingly calm. You stand in front of your mirror, dressed in a gown that flowed beautifully. The white a pristine look you were unfamiliar with and for once in your life, you feel truly nervous.

The door opens, and your mother steps in, her eyes softening as she sees you in your  dress. “You look like a dream,” she whispers, tears glistening in her eyes.

You smile, a genuine smile, though your mind was already far away, wondering what Simon looked like- what was running through his mind in this moment.

“Don’t let your thoughts run a thousand a minute,” the Queen begins, knowing you too well as she gently tilts your chin to look up at her, “That man is head over heels for you, my dear. I saw him this morning, actually.”

“Has he changed his mind?” you immediately ask, worry crossing your face for a brief moment.

Your mother laughs, rolling her eyes slightly, “You two are both as daft as each other, nobody is running away. Not you, and most certainly, not him.” she reassures you.

“He actually wanted me to give you this-” she says, as she pulls out a dainty bracelet, waiting for you to extend your arm.

“What is it?” you ask as you oblige, allowing her to put it on you.

“Simon said it was his mother’s, a good luck charm, if you will. He wanted you to have it.” she replies and you can’t help the way that makes your heart feel. A giddy smile on your face as you realise he’s given you something with so much meaning. Especially since you knew how much Simon adored his mother, how much she made him the man he is today.

You try to steady yourself, taking a deep breath. This was the moment you two had been waiting for, and now it was finally here, it was surreal, but you were grateful for it all, every second.

The heartfelt moments with your closest family and friends slowly filter down as a beautiful melody fills the hall, signalling the start of the ceremony. The doors open, revealing far too many people for your liking. Honestly you’d just be happy if it were you and Simon, but you understand this is a must for someone of your stature. It didn’t matter much anyway when your eyes were only on Simon, standing at the end of the aisle, his gaze locked on yours.

He looked breath-taking like this. You’d have to thank whoever picked that suit out for him because lord knows it wasn’t him. For all he is, and all his accomplishments, you quickly learnt that style was not included amongst that list.

But you can't think about that right now, not when it dawns on you that this is it, the amazing man at the end of the aisle is about to be yours, forever. Your husband.

As you step forward, time seems to slow. Your Father’s arm in yours as your dress glides along the marble floor, moving closer to the end of the aisle. Simon’s eyes never leave yours, as though he couldn’t quite believe that this moment was real. And when you finally reach him, it's as if the entire world had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this sacred space.

You laugh a little when you notice his nervous swallow, eyes watering just slightly as he tries to keep it together. But with the happiness of it all, you couldn’t stop your own tears from falling and that was all it took for Simon’s to finally fall too. He wipes them away before quickly reaching out to wipe your own, not wanting you to ruin your makeup with tears…at least not yet anyway.

The ceremony passed by in a blur, you both exchange your vows and make promises to one another, some more general ones and others, very specific to just the two of you. But what you would remember most was the look in Simon’s eyes as he spoke his vows, his voice full of emotion as he pledged his love and loyalty to you for the rest of his days.

“I bind myself to you, in this life and the next.” He says lovingly as he slips the ring on your finger.

“And I, you.” you reply, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “For all the days of our lives and forever after that.”

As you were declared husband and wife, Simon didn’t hesitate to lean in and kiss you. You were lost in the warmth of his embrace. Not even thinking about the crowd who were now applauding, or your family who were also tearing up at the ceremony.

You look up at Simon, hand in hand, his smile mirroring your own. He didn’t know what he’d done to have you as his wife, but now that you are, he’s certain he won't ever let you go.

Celebrations had been in full swing for a while now, the night air filled with laughter and music. Drunken nobles made a fool of themselves, sweet blessings were given to you and your new husband and the kingdom was full of joy, everyone wishing prosperity to you and Simon.

As fun as the party was though, once yours and Simon’s first dance had ended, you were only thinking about one thing.

You know Simon’s mind drifts to the same place yours had because the gleam in his eye spoke a thousand words alone. Your hands find each other under the table, fingers entwining as you lean into his side.

“Shall we?” Simon whispers, his voice low and intimate, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

“We can’t ditch our wedding party.” you laugh softly, “It’s not polite.”

“Says who?” He scoffs, “It is our wedding after all, isn't that what you keep saying? Besides…I have been patiently waiting to have my wife all to myself, can't I get a little reward?” he grins, leaning in close to give you a kiss.

His lips barely linger, the touch fleeting yet enough to send a thrill through you. You feel your cheeks flush as Simon’s eyes hold yours, a shared secret sparkling between you. The music and laughter of the party fades into the background, and all that matters is the two of you, lost in this moment.

“Come on, my pretty, beautiful, tempting wife,” he murmurs, his hand warm in yours as he helps you to your feet. “Or I mean, we can stay for a few more toasts if you reeaallly want to?” he asks, a playful glint in his eye.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Alright fine, I think I’ve had my fill of conversation for one evening. I’d much rather toast to our future in private.”

With a shared glance of understanding, you and Simon make your way through the crowded room.

You glance around, seeing the joyous faces of your guests. Together, you navigate the crowded room, offering polite excuses to well-wishers, weaving through the guests who were too caught up in their drinks and celebrations to notice the bride and groom slipping away.

Simon smiles bright and he squeezes your hand as he leads you down the quiet halls, away from the merriment. The flickering lights create dancing shadows as the quiet grows, the silence feeling almost sacred after the hectic commotion of the day. Simon’s hand never leaves yours, his thumb gently caressing the back of yours as you make your way to your now shared chambers.

As you approach the door, your heart quickens. This is the moment you had been waiting for, all of this build up, to now, you were both anxious and excited. Simon turns to you, his expression soft and tender as he picks up on your emotions, sharing the sentiment. “After you, beautiful,” he says, pushing the door open.

Inside the room you were met with the soft glow of candlelight, the bed covered in pretty petals. The air thick with the scent of roses and the promise of what was to come. Simon draws you into his arms, his touch gentle but sure. “This is our night,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. “And I intend to make every second of it special.”

You smile, leaning into him, “Sweetheart, as lovely as the rose petals are, isn’t it a bit…impractical?” you remark with a light laugh.

“Oh, I absolutely agree. I didn’t scatter them out, figured it would be a waste since we’d mess it up. I suppose the maids didn’t get the message,” he replies with a playful grin.

Simon's focus never drifts from you as he guides you over towards the bed. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he smiles at you. He leans down, his lips softly meeting yours in a tender kiss.

Simon pulls away momentarily to admire you in your wedding gown, the white a beautiful contrast to the red rose petals surrounding you. It sends a rush of blood straight down to his cock. With a soft growl, he disappears under your wedding gown, kissing up your leg and along your thigh.

Opening his mouth, his teeth gently bite down on the garter, pulling the fabric down with a soft tug. As the fabric slips away from your leg, he lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he tosses the garter to the side. “You wouldn’t let me do it in the main hall, I had to do it at some point.” he grins smugly.

His hands move to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips capture yours in another tender kiss, all of the unspoken emotions pouring out in the loving gesture. He moves around you as his fingers nimbly work the threads along the back of your wedding gown.

He wants to explore every part of you, and he certainly plans to take his time tonight, savouring each moment. He wants, needs, to make you his completely. The love he has for you is all-consuming, and he wants to show it to you in every way he can, with every touch.

As the gown falls to your feet, his gaze is glued to your body, so delicate, with your pretty lace corset and panties. He can’t help but marvel at how perfect you are. “So, so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, shaking his head slightly as if he can't believe he's really this lucky.

His hands move to unfasten your corset, revealing more of your body with each passing second, lips trailing your skin as he does so. Simon’s eyes drink in the sight, his hands running over your curves, causing you to shiver.

He lifts you up effortlessly, placing you gently on the bed. He takes a moment to admire the way the petals look beside you as you lay down, the sight making him delirious. His warm breath moves across your skin as he peppers kisses along your jaw, your neck, trailing down towards your collarbone, gently nipping at the delicate skin every now and then as he works his way down.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder, admiring your body and the way the candlelight dances across your skin. “God, you’re breathtaking…how did I get so lucky?” he whispers, moreso to himself.

His body settles over yours as his hands cup your face. “You’re all mine...My precious wife,” he says gently, before his lips move down to kiss the wedding ring adorned on your finger. He smiles, returning his lips up to your mouth as his hands begin to roam, exploring every inch of your body.

Simon's touch is both tender and demanding, his fingers trace every curve along your body, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breasts.

He holds you gently, but the grip is still strong enough to remind you he was once a well equipped fighter. He plants sweet kisses, with occasional soft bites along your skin that you know will bloom in the morning with a faint rose hint.

He likes the idea of marking you, claiming you as his own. He knows you’re already his and he’s yours but there’s a sense of pride he gets in flaunting that fact. Letting the people know that the royal princess is truly enamoured with a man like him, a man people would look down upon before. He nips at the sensitive skin just below your ear, his tongue darting out to soothe the sting.

His kisses trail down to the valley in between your breasts as his hands continue to explore you. He palms your breasts, thumbs flicking over the sensitive peaks, eliciting a soft moan from you. He likes the sound of that, loves knowing he can make you lose control so easily.

Simon's mouth moves to your breast, his lips wrapping around your nipple, drawing it into his mouth as he begins sucking gently. He can feel you arching into his touch, and he can’t help but smirk against your skin. He continues his worship, his tongue swirling around your nipple as he lightly pulls at it with his teeth a ltitle. “Is that good, hm?” he teases.

You nod as he moves to the other breast, treating it just as lovingly. He nips and sucks, teasing you with his mouth, and you can feel your arousal building. His hands keep exploring, one moving lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

His touch is light, trailing his fingers along the dampness there, almost torturing you with the promise of what was to come. His lips soon follow down, kissing a path down your stomach, his tongue darting out every so often as he maps out your smooth skin.

He continues further down, his kisses growing more urgent as he reaches the edge of your panties. He hooks them to the side as he reveals your pussy, his breath hitching. He takes in the sight of you, your arousal glistening, your folds parted just enough to reveal the prize within. “My pretty girl’s already so wet for me.” he coos.

Simon swallows at the sight, and he can't help but emit a low growl of desire. Leaning in, his tongue flicks out to taste you, savouring how you taste. He laps at your folds, teasing the entrance to your core as his fingers smooth over your thighs lovingly.

He continues his worship, his tongue delving deeper, only coming back up to suck on your clit. He could feel you trembling beneath him, your moans growing louder as he brought you closer to the edge. “So sweet- you taste so fucking divine.”

Simon's fingers join his tongue, slipping inside you, curling to find your most sensitive spots. He moves them in a rhythm, his thumb flicking at your clit, his mouth never leaving your core.

He continues his assault, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony as his eyes lock onto yours. You let out a breathy moan as he slides his ring finger into you. The sight of it disappearing inside you making his own arousal grow. He watches as he fingers you, his thumb circling your clit as he works his finger inside you.

He dives back in, his face between your thighs, his tongue swirling around your clit as his fingers continue their ministrations. The overall blend of every sensation almost seems too much to bear, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to that sweet release.

He eats you out like a man starved, like you are the most divine thing that ever rested on his tongue, and in a sense, that was true. "You're all mine" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. He flattens his tongue against your folds as the bridge of his nose brushes against your clit.

He pulls his hand away momentarily as he lifts his ring finger slightly, pressing the ring against your clit, smirking when your body shivers at the cool metal and you mumble something incoherent.

His pace increases, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers thrusting as deep as they can, hitting that sweet spot inside you. He can sense your orgasm, feel it in the tremor of your thighs, the clench of your walls.

Simon's lips press against your clit, sucking it gently as he keeps his fingers exactly where you want them. The combination of his mouth and fingers is all too much, and you cry out his name as you come undone, your body trembling beneath him.

He continues, even as your orgasm subsides, drawing it out for as long as he can. When he’s sure you’re spent, he pulls away, his eyes meeting yours once more.

"Mine," he repeats, a satisfied smirk curving his lips.

With a gentle tug, Simon fully removes your panties, discarding them. He moves up your body, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss and you can taste yourself on hihs lips as he positions himself at your entrance.

“You ready?” he whispers against your lips.

“Yes- I want you, please” you whisper back almost desperately and that’s all he needs as he slowly pushes inside you. The moment he does, you both let out a soft gasp. He pauses, letting you adjust to his size, his eyes never leaving yours. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good." It takes everything in him to not immediately start thrusting, his head buried against your neck as you both savour the moment.

He starts to push into you, his strokes very slow and tender, so you can feel every inch. His hands roam across your body, caressing your skin, pressing soft kisses to your skin wherever he can. He pays attention to every noise that escapes you, each slight twitch, taking it all in, locking it in his memories.

His thrusts quicken as you lock your legs over his waist, heels against his ass. He feels you drawing closer and closer; he wants to be the one to push you over. He bends down at the waist, takes your lips in a rough, hungry kiss, and maintains the pace of his intense thrusts. His hands move to your hips, as he pulls you against him, thrusting as deep as he can in ecstasy.

The room is filled with the sound of moans, slapping skin on skin, and both of your quickened breaths. Simon's free hand moves to your breast, squeezing it firmly as he tugs at your nipple. The sensation is almost too much to bear, and you can feel your orgasm building, growing closer and closer.

“Is that good, baby?”

“Yesyesyes, so good.” you babble as you cling to him.

By the time Simon's cock has reached that pivotal spot, you can’t help but whine with the feeling of him so deep inside you. Your eyes meet and in that moment, you feel a soft intimate connection beyond the physical.

He quickens his pace, a few simple thrusts increasing the urgency of the moment. He continues to drive into you, his thrusts more fierce now, his body trembling as he nears his climax. The two of you move as one, your bodies locked together in a dance of passion and love.

The moment is intense, the two of you reaching for that peak, both of your body's aching for release. As he continued his movements, he let out a low groan, his voice thick with desire. "Fuuck- keep squeezing me like that—shit—and I might have to put a baby in you."

His words send a thrill through you, the thought of starting a family with him making your heart flutter. Simon's thrusts grow more desperate, his body trembling as he nears his climax.

"You can-" you whine, "you're my husband now."

Simon's eyes darken at your words, and he lets out a low growl. "Yeah? Call me that again."

“My husband.” you say through breaths as you look up at him adoringly.

He leans down, bringing you in for a loving kiss as he continues to thrust into you. He can feel your body responding to him and it spurs him on.

Simon continues to drive into you, his body trembling as he nears his climax. His movements become desperate, his thrusts faltering slightly, becoming sloppier.

“Please- so close-” you whine

“Yeah? I suppose I can’t deny my future queen.” he groans against your skin, head buried in the crevice of your neck. Simon's thrusts grow more frantic, as you both reach the peak. His body shakes as he fills you up to the brim with a thick heavy load. You cling to him, your body shaking, his name a cry on your tongue as your own orgasm crashes over you in waves, leaving you both breathless and spent.

Simon collapses onto you fully, forgetting for a second just how heavy he is compared to you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. After a few moments, he lifts himself up slightly, pressing a kiss to your glowing skin, a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

The two of you catch your breath, relaxing in each other's arms, the afterglow washing over you both. For a moment, the outside world ceases to exist, it’s only you two and you wish you could stay in this bubble of intimacy forever.

As Simon pulls out, you can’t help but let out a soft whine, the emptiness inside you leaving you missing the feeling. His release runs down your thighs as you begin to trail kisses along his body. Your lips brushing against his skin, feeling the ridges of his scars.

Each kiss you place on his body is filled with love and adoration, your tongue traces the lines of his scars, feeling the weight of his past. Simon feels vulnerable, you can tell in the way he looks at you. He’d just filled you with his cum, but the sight of you focusing on his scars was what made him feel shy.

Your lips linger on his chest, your eyes meeting his, your love for him shining through. "I love you," you whisper, the words echoing in the room, a promise of the life you two would build together.

His eyes soften, and he pulls you in closer, leaning in to kiss you softly, his hands tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss, afraid you’ll escape if he lets you go.

Pulling back from the kiss, you continue your journey down his body, taking your time to map every inch, every ridge, watching as his body shivers slightly when your breath meets certain areas. “You’re mesmerising and I’m so thankful you’re my husband.”

“I’m the thankful one. I’m merely a retired knight, compared to you-”

You shush him as you finally reach his cock, now slick with your juices and his. You wrap your lips around the tip, your tongue swirling around the head, cleaning it gently.

“Shit-” he hisses, still so sensitive from before, just barely over his first orgasm Simon can’t help but let out a soft moan, his fingers threading in your hair to guide you as you pleasure him. "You don't need to- Christ-"

Your lips move up and down his shaft, kissing along his cock which is already hardening again. Simon's eyes close, his body relaxing as you take care of him, leaving him feeling loved in a way like never before.

He lets out a slight moan, muffled as he bites his knuckle. His hips gently thrust up to meet your mouth. Simon’s praise comes out as a soft whisper, "Fuck, you're good at that, angel." His fingers play with your hair, his touch gentle as he enjoys the way you take care of him. You can feel his appreciation, his words making your cheeks flush with pride. You let out a low hum at every praise, the noise vibrating along his cock, causing his eyes to close.

Simon's hips continue, his cock sliding against your lips and tongue as he loses himself in the bliss. "Christ, you're working me up again."

You smile around his cock, the sound of your laughter muffled by his cock in your mouth. One of your hands moves to his balls, gently fondling them, only adding to his satisfaction.

Simon's breath hitches, his fingers tightening in your hair as he nears his climax. You can feel it building, and you quicken your pace, your tongue working faster as you want to bring him to the edge once more.

He lets out a desperate groan, his hips bucking as you bring him closer to his climax. But just as he’s about to go over, he abruptly pulls away, his eyes meeting yours.

"God, no- Need to be inside you again." he growls, his voice thick with desire.

His tongue dances with yours, his hands moving to your hips, guiding you back up towards the headboard, where he’s leaning against it. "Want you on top."

You nod, your lips still locked with his, and move as directed, straddling him. His tip is leaky, pre-cum dripping profusely. His eyes close in bliss and his breath is shaky as you gradually sink down on his length.

Simon's hands move to your hips, his fingers digging into your hips as he watches you ride him, his eyes never leaving yours. You set a steady pace, your hips moving in a rhythm, your breasts bouncing with each thrust.

Simon's breathing grows heavier, his eyes darkening with a mixture of lust and love as he watches you ride him, his cock filling you up perfectly. It feels as though you’re made for him, as if he’s made for you and God he hopes he is.

He swears marrying you is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, before he thought the knights were his home. But now he knows it’s you, you’re his home and he wants to start a family with you.

His desire grows, his need for release overwhelming. His body trembles as he feels himself quickly getting close again, and he can’t help but bring one of your hands to his lips, kissing the ring on your finger again.

“I’m all yours, forever.” you whisper tenderly as your hips slow momentarily.

“And I’m yours, always. Every fibre of me, I swear it.” he says, with so much love and devotion in his tone that you could almost tear up.

He wants to be at your mercy, to let you take control and show him the pleasure he craves. He’s lost in the moment, his body writhing beneath yours.

"Thank you, fuck, thank you-" Simon whimpers, his voice thick with desire. In this moment, it’s easy to forget the man he used to be, the feared knight who commanded respect and terror. Here, he was just a man, lost in the passion and love that exists between the two of you.

His hips lift to meet your movements halfway. The two of you move together, your bodies locked in a dance of desire, your love growing stronger with each passing second.

As you continue to ride him, Simon leans back, his head resting against the headboard as he lets your hips do the work. His breath hitches in his throat as he feels the way you use your hips against him. He’s no match for them and it’s one battle he’ll happily lose.

The hushed whispers, the tender touches and the dim light from the candles, set the perfect romantic scene. You can feel his body growing closer to the peak, his fingers digging into your hips. The two of you move together, whispering sweet nothings to each other as he runs his hands across every inch of your body that he can reach, desperate to be as close to you as he can.

It’s not long before a guttural groan escapes Simon’s throat, his body tenses as he erupts inside you. Thick ropes of cum shoot inside you, the sensation overwhelming as he hits that peak. You moan his name, a bundle of nerves coursing through your veins as your orgasm hits you, body trembling as you gush around his cock. Simon's eyes close as he feels the aftershocks of his climax and yours.

He remains there, keeping his release plugged inside you as one of his hands rests on your belly, his fingers gently tracing circles on your skin. He looks up at your sweat-sheened skin, a satisfied smile on his lips as he gazes at the woman he loves. "Gonna look so good carrying my babies," he whispers, a tired smile forming on his face.

His hand moves from your belly to your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple, teasing it gently. "You're perfect, baby, perfect for me."

As you lean down onto him, your forehead resting against his, Simon wraps his arms around you. He holds you close as the two of you bask in the moment.

Simon presses a soft kiss to your forehead as he holds you close. "I love you," he says softly, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too." you whisper back, your voice filled with just as much love and adoration for him as the two of you lay there, entwined.

You rest your head on his chest, catching your breath as the world outside is still. Every beat of his heartbeat reminds you of this new chapter in your life, one you now share with Simon, knowing the love will only grow stronger each day.

The cottage you're in for your honeymoon was picturesque, a quaint little refuge tucked away from the rest of the world. The ivy-covered walls, soft chirping of birds and the fresh air felt like some much deserved peace.

You and Simon stepped out onto the sun-dappled path as you walked together. Hands entwined as you walked towards the meadow that stretched before you. The sky above was a canvas of endless blue sprinkled with cotton clouds crossing lazily across the horizon.

"Isn't it magical?" you said, your voice tender in the gentle breeze. You smiled up at him, "It's like we've stepped into a fairy tale," you whispered, leaning into him, happiness threatening to spill over the edges of your heart.

Fairy tales aren't real.

Or at least that's what he would've said before, but now, seeing how you look at him, it makes him believe they might be.

"I think you're a fairy tale," he said, his voice gentle.

Simon's words wrapped around you in a soft embrace. You reached out and brushed your fingers against his cheek, marvelling at the tenderness that had come so naturally between you two.

"And you're my knight in shining armour," you returned, teasing the idea with a smile. "You rescued me from a life that I didn't know needed saving. You've given me the happiness I've been dreaming of without even knowing."

He led you to a blanket spread under the shade of a willow tree. Its long, sweeping branches formed a natural canopy that made a private haven for just the two of you. "I didn't rescue you. You've always been able to handle yourself just fine without me."

“Must you always be so practical... Can't you just take a compliment?” you chuckled lightly.

Simon flopped onto his back, propping himself up on one elbow as he turned to look at you. "It's just hard to get used to the feeling that a person like you views me so highly, I suppose," he admitted, his voice tinged with awe.

You reached out, your fingers trailing gently along his arm. "Well, you'd better get used to it," you teased, "It's going to be a common occurrence in this marriage. No more self deprecation." you said as you cupped his face and waited for him to nod.

Slowly, purposefully, Simon nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I promise," he said, his voice steady and resolute. "I will see myself through your eyes, and I will believe in the man you see."

He sat back up, as he reached into the hamper, grabbing a bottle of rosé and two glasses. He poured out the liquid and handed you a glass.

"To us," he toasted, his eyes never leaving yours.

"To our forever," you replied, your glass touching his softly.

As you took a sip, the sweetness of the drink mixed with the loving air of this moment, and Simon swept a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers continued on to trace the line of your jaw, and that tenderness, that made your heart flutter.

"Is this the first time you've ever felt truly relaxed?" you couldn't help but ask.

Simon acted like he was thinking about the answer, and he felt his face flush because it was an immediate yes in his head. He knows you can see through him, especially when you laugh after his extended contemplation.

"I can tell." you began as you rested a hand on his shoulder, "You're not tense- You're going with the flow…Your hair is-."

"Hey- what's wrong with my hair?" he interrupts with a chuckle, a hand on his chest in mock offence.

"Nothing's wrong with it," you teased, a twinkle in your eye. "It's just a bit… unruly. But in a charming, carefree way."

Simon laughed, shaking his head. "Unruly? I think that's a fancy way of saying I look like a mess."

You playfully ruffled his hair. "A handsome mess," you corrected, your voice gentle. "It suits you. But, if you want, I can cut it for you, maybe help you shave too."

Simon raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. "And let you take a blade to my face? You must think I'm a lot braver than I am."

You chuckled, lightly brushing your thumb across his lower lip. "I promise I'll be gentle. Besides, you've handled far more dangerous things. A little shave shouldn't scare you."

"But a razor in the hands of my beloved? That's a different kind of terror." Simon joked.

You giggled, leaning closer. "Shush, I'll be careful, I swear."

He smiled, sidewise, cocking his head a bit. "As for the haircut…what if you cut it lopsided?"

You playfully pouted at him, giving him a sort of mock-stern face. "Well, then I guess you'll just have to charm everyone with your rugged appearance. It's a good thing you're a knight with a silver tongue."

He smiled at you, a contented silence filling the air. You leaned back against a tree, and he rested his head on your lap as you both burrowed under the shade of a willow tree.

"Well, I suppose if it looks bad, that's just an excuse to extend our honeymoon…you know, to let it grow back out?" he quipped, a smirk on his face.

You laughed softly and gently ran your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your lap. "A clever excuse indeed. You always seem to find a way to turn any situation into an opportunity for more time together."

His eyes locked with yours, shining with merriment. "You caught me," he said, his lips playing with the thought of a smile. "But can you blame me? Every moment with you feels like a precious gift."

You smiled and then bent down to place a tender kiss on his forehead. "Well, if that's your intention, I'm certainly not about to argue. I'm quite fond of these lazy afternoons with you."

Simon sighed, very satisfied, and closed his eyes. He felt a moment of satisfaction. "I could stay here forever," he said, his voice only just above a whisper. "With you, everything feels different. Lighter. You make everything feel right. Like we were always meant to be here, in this moment, together."

It was then that you knew this honeymoon wasn't going to be a brief phase, but a lifetime of treasured memories. A soft breeze stirred the willow branches above, and your fingertips moved along his jaw. "I've been thinking," you said softly, "this cottage is cute, homely."

Simon's eyes opened once more. He looked at you steadily, sensing the change in your mind. "Go on," he said, his voice low with anticipation.

"Perhaps, a good place for a family," you mumbled, the words laced with hope. It felt like a thin thread reaching from the present into a future that the two of them had only dared dream about. Of course it's not like Simon wasn't already trying to get you pregnant, but voicing it aloud here, like this, felt different.

Simon had already imagined it a thousand times that morning alone. As nice as the castle is, with all those grand halls and bustling corridors. The privacy of a cottage does offer something more intimate, more serene. He could picture the laughter of children, echoing through the meadows, in wildflowers and rustling leaves, with tiny feet darting between sunlit patches of grass.

He turned his face upwards towards you; his expression was tender as he gave you a soft smile. "I've thought about it too," he confessed; his voice was warm with emotion. "I already see us here, building our own traditions, filling this place with our own memories," he said genuinely as he sat up, his finger gliding along your jaw.

There was a flutter in your stomach at the thought of it, imagining Simon in that family role. "I'd love that," you whispered. You leaned in close and then rested your forehead to his, embracing this lovely picture of the future. "Let's make it our home."

Simon leaned forward, brushing his lips across yours to give you a light, gentle kiss. His eyes gleamed, full of love and determination as he pulled back to look at you. "We'll make it everything we've ever hoped for," he vowed.

You both fell silent then, your shared vision settling around you. The sun wrapped the meadow in a golden glow and cast a shimmering halo about the two of you. Here, on this honeymoon with you, he felt the truth of something he had once doubted.

Fairy tales must be real, for he knows now that he's living in one.

Tattoo artist Simon! who felt like a fool every time his cock hardened when you’d send through a picture of your healed up tattoo, with a sweet little thank you message always accompanied by a heart that pathetically made him want to cum in his boxers.

Tattoo artist Simon! who insisted you were just another client, even as he fucked his fist to the images of you engrained into his mind. He felt like a desperate mess, cock achingly hard as ropes of cum shot out, splattering across his stomach all from the slithers of skin that he’d seen when tattooing you. God, how easily you made him feel like an inexperienced virgin.

Tattoo artist Simon! who messaged back embarrassingly fast when you asked if he ever wanted to meet up outside of just a tattooing session. He cringed afterwards, noticing the typos and the awkward combination of emojis used.

'A thumbs up and two smiles?' he thought to himself, 'Real great Simon, should've thrown in the entire happy categories of emojis whilst you're at it'

Tattoo artist Simon! who couldn't believe his luck when you and him wound up on your sofa after dinner and a few drinks at a local pub but makes no move to question it as you both kiss messily, tongues dancing and hands reaching everywhere they can with the current restriction of your clothes.

"Wow- this is actually happening, huh?" he mumbled as you kissed messily, hands grasping at each other, "God, you've no idea how long I've been waiting for this"

Tattoo artist Simon! who had to bite down on your shoulder to muffle the groan that escaped him as he bottomed out in you for the first time. Hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise as if he was scared you'd disappear if he let up.

"Fuuuck-" he whispered shakily as he tried to remind himself you had neighbours and very thin walls, "God that feels so good."

Tattoo artist Simon! who quickly gave up on any attempt to be quiet once he heard how pretty your moans sounded, selfishly wanting them to grace his ears with every thrust as he tilted your head back, not wanting you to stifle your moans with the cushions underneath you.

"Shit- no, keep making those sounds," he murmured, breath hot against your skin, "Wanna hear every single one of ‘em, don't go quiet on me, doll"

Tattoo artist Simon! who honestly felt like he'd never experienced sex this good, even on a less than comfortable sofa that he knew would leave him sore in the morning, it was worth it as he felt your pussy clench around his cock, so warm and tight, milking him for all his worth.

"Fuck- so...so, good-" he almost whined, punctuating each word with a thrust, his balls slapping against your skin as he increased tempo, "Could stay like this forever."

Tattoo artist Simon! who kissed you with so much more care than you'd ever expect as you both came, you gushing around his cock as his cum shot out, painting your walls, before slowly oozing out from where you were both connected.

Tattoo artist Simon! who had to take a moment to admire the sight of your blissed out face as you lay back on the sofa, slick with sweat and his cum running out of you.

Tattoo artist Simon! who laughed as he lay beside you on a sofa that was way too small, the both of you talking about everything and nothing at all before realising you'd both denied wanting this for so long.