“Doth Your mother Know You Weareth Her Drapes?”

How slow they came, their horses at a mere trot. Their white flags with red crosses waving in the wind. Everyone crowded before them. One officer dragged forward your father, the Governor, and forced him to kneel. 

You stood nearby, your mother hugging her arms around you, to shield you, protect you. You could hear the faint, worried murmurs of the crowd all about you. Wondering what would happen. You heard the king of England was making a conquest of France, but how distant it all seemed until he was here. 

You looked up at the king in front and center on his white horse. You had never looked at a king before.

You could not deny he was a handsome man. Young, but not boyish. Virile. He was tall and lean, with auburn-blonde curls and a short, cropped beard. High cheekbones. The most piercing blue eyes you have ever seen. And bedecked in his armor, one would think him a knight from a story. Except for the crown.

“Do you understand what happens when an army goes through and sacks a city, governor? What will happen if you do not let us through?” He asked. 

There was silence from your father.

The king then spoke, his voice rising.

“Houses will be destroyed, lives will be taken. We will pull your old men by their beards. Your daughters will shriek when they are handed to soldiers. Hungry for their viriginities. Your infants we will set on spikes as their mothers scream. That is what will happen.”

You heard sounds of worry and shock from the crowd. Mothers looked down at their children. 

The king looked over. He noticed you. You felt your eyes on him. Growing warm in your face, you lowered your eyes in timidness. Not daring to glare at a king. 

 It felt like one was at the edge of a cliff and dreading the gust of wind that would fall. One word from the king would release chaos and horrors of all unspeakable kinds. Upon your family. And you. 

“But…all this we will avoid, on two conditions…” the king announced. His voice softened.

“Two?” asked your father.

“One, that you let us pass….” began the king.

“And the second?” asked your father. 

The king’s eyes fell on you again. 

“Who is this woman?” he asked.

“My daughter.”

The king paused a moment before he spoke. 

“You offer your daughter to me for the night.”

You felt your heart race. Your stomach began churning. Already, you were trembling all over your limbs. No, you thought, no, no, no, no…

Your mother pulled you in tighter.

“She will not be yours!” she blurted.

The king silenced her with a look.

“You will let us pass. And your daughter will be in my bed. Or I will set my soldiers upon the town,” repeated the king. 

But…what choice did you have? If you refused, if your father refused…then how many more women would be raped? How many lives lost or ruined?

“My…my daughter’s honor…” muttered your father, still on his knees.

“Will be compensated, with a wealthy dowry,” assured the king. He nodded at one officer beside him, who pulled out a bag of coins.

“She is not a whore! My daughter is worth more than any of your gold can buy!” your father spat back.

Pulling out of your mother's arms, heart racing, you stepped forward. You walked over and kneeled next to your father.

“Mon pere…let it happen,” you whispered. 

Father looked at you, his jaw dropped.

“Tell the king you accept,” you assured him. “I will go to him. It’s only one night, and it will be over. I’ll have a dowry worth more than the one saved up for me. Afterwards, I can marry whoever I want.”

Father turned his head back to the king. He then spoke.

“Your soldiers may pass. And you may have her.”

A deep exhale went throughout the crowd. Your mother put her hands over her mouth, tears in her eyes. Soon enough, Henry took the reins of the horse. He looked over to the man on the horse next to him. An older man with long, grey hair. 

“Tonight, we stay here as guests. Grant them mercy,” he ordered.

The older man nodded. He then turned, and word trickled down to the soldiers.

A path was formed among the crowd as the people stepped away, and the king and his horse and army rode through it.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours later, the older man approached you at the door in your home. 

“My lady, the king has summoned you,” he announced.

Your mother got out a handkerchief and began to weep. Your father hung his head down in shame. You then walked outside and followed the gentleman through your city of Harlefleur.

You knew already where you were going. Your father may have been the governor, but the Dumont’s were the wealthiest family in town. Their mansion in the center was the largest. So it was there that the king stayed. And it was there that the older man, who was the lord of Exeter, escorted you.

The lord of Exeter walked you through the front door. He guided you upstairs, past the servants of the house. He then led you to one separate room. It had a fireplace and a cream four-poster bed. Inside was a large tub and female servants with cloths and soap. 

“The king ordered you to bathe.”

“I’m not dirty,” you said. You were still a lady who took care to always appear proper, especially in front of men. And in front of kings.

“Still, you must be clean before the presence of his majesty,” the lord of Exeter declared. He then closed the door.

They set you in the tub, already full of water. Making sure not to make your hair too wet, they scrubbed all over your body until you were truly clean. You then got out and dried with a towel. 

One of the servants, an older woman with wrinkles and grey hair, brought forward a golden dress.

“The king said he would like you to wear this,” she announced.

The maids helped you step into the dress and secured it in the back. They gave you a jeweled belt. They then took care of your hair as you would have liked it. At least you had a little say in these matters.

It was a dress even more beautiful than the ones you owned. It had long sleeves and a small train. The jeweled belt flattered your figure. There was an ample cut square collar that flattered the top of your chest. You were then given a jeweled headdress placed on top of your head. 

How did they get this? Was it stolen? From a common woman attacked by a soldier? No, for these were not the clothes of a common woman. From the lady of the house? You didn’t know.

There was a knock on the door. The older woman opened it and revealed the Lord of Exeter. 

“Now…it is time,” he announced. 

You followed him out, holding up your skirt so you wouldn’t trip. Heads of servants turned towards you, eyes curious. He then led you to a large door. He knocked on it.

“You may enter,” came the king’s voice.

He pushed open the door, and you stepped inside.

Inside, it was lit with candles. There was a table with chairs. Chests here and there. And a great, large bed in the center of it, with thick red blankets and feather pillows. A crackling fireplace. There, dressed in red leathers and his crown in front of the fire, was his majesty the king of England. He was leaning against the railing, but straightened himself once he saw you. 

You dipped into the lowest curtsy you could.

“Thank you. You may now leave us, uncle,” said the king. 

The lord of Exeter closed the door behind him. Your heart picked up again. You stood still and folded your hands. 

“Do you speak English?” he asked.

“Like my mother tongue, your grace,” you answered. 

The king walked forward. You kept your eyes down as he circled you. He then stopped in front of you. Hands gesturing forward to the table. 

“Here, sit.”

You walked over and sat down. The table was bare except for a bottle of wine and two goblets. 

“Would you like some wine?” asked the king.

You did not answer, eyeing the bottle with nervousness. 

“Rest assured, there is nothing in it. Only wine,” replied the king. 

“Yes, of course.”

He poured out some in a goblet and handed it to you. Inside it was a deep, dark red. It looked almost black. The taste was dry and bitter, but it was strong.

“What is your name?” he asked.

You gave it to him. 

He poured his own cup and took a deep drink. He then set it down. You could feel something in his eyes. There was a stillness. As if he was doing everything in his power not to reach out and grab you at once. No, he was showing restraint.

“Do you like the wine?” he asked.

“Yes. It is good, my lord.”

“Would you like any food?”

“No, no thank you, my lord.”

You took another drink, deepening it. If the wine affected you, this would be more pleasant. You could drink your way through this. The king leaned forward, his hands together. He looked all over you.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, my lord,” you replied.

“It pleases me when you say that. You may keep calling me ‘my lord.’ And your majesty.”

“Of course, my lord.”

You took another sip of wine. You were already getting to the end of your drink. You felt your body warmed by the fireplace. Outside, one could hear an owl.

“Why did you make this request, my lord?” you asked.

He was still. Then he spoke in a soft voice.

“My lady, because I want you beyond what words can describe.”

He then stood up and walked to you. He held out a hand, and you accepted it. He led you to stand up. His hands traced over your sides, then up to your face. He even tipped your chin up with his hand.

“Look at me,” he said.

You obeyed.

“Promise me one thing?” he asked.

You looked up at him.

“Never stop looking at me.”

He then leaned forward and kissed you. It was…warm, his lips were soft. Already, you could feel yourself melting in, giving away. It was a sweet kiss, far sweeter than anything you expected would happen tonight.

His hands wandered to your back, supporting you as he gave you another kiss. He leaned down further. His hands clutched onto you. 

You let go, already trying to catch your breath. His hands went to the top of your head and took off your headdress. He then went to your belt and undid it as it fell to the floor. His hands then went to the back of your dress, and began to undo it.

You let him. Something in you was growing.

Soon enough, the dress fell to the ground before you. You wore only a shift. Your own breathing was deep. You looked right at him. He took his hands and went to the sleeves on your shoulders of your shift. It was already loose with an open collar. 

He then pulled it down by the sleeves.

Soon it fell, revealing your breasts, then the rest of your body as it fell in a circle around your feet.

He looked down at you. His hands grazing your breasts.

“Beautiful,” was all he said.

He took you in his arms and picked you up. You wondered how strong he was; it was as if you were nothing but air. He carried you over to the bed and laid you down.

He took off his own doublet and the shirt beneath it, revealing his chest. You wondered at his muscles. He then removed his codpiece. You could see he was already hard. You wondered how hard he had been the entire time. He took off his boots in a hurry. You leaned forward to have a look. He then removed his pants. Already, his large manhood was reaching high, leaking precum.

He joined you on the bed and hovered over you. You could feel his cock graze your stomach. Hearts racing, you saw him reach his hand and use it to part your legs. 

He tested you. He plunged a finger inside your core. Already, you could feel yourself getting wet at his touch. You moaned at it, feeling him inside, digging around.

“Are you a virgin?” he asked.

You gave him your answer. And he nodded.

He prepared you, his finger spreading you open, and then found a spot and teased it. It swirled around you, making space. You then felt him add another finger.

“My…my lord…”

“Spread your legs wider, your king commands it,” he breathed.

You obeyed, going as wide as you could. He set himself between them. He then pulled himself forward, his face meeting your own. His cock at your entrance.

He then thrust forward.

You let out a small sound. He was quite large; there was a pinprick of pain. He pulled out, and then he entered again. And again. He then began a rhythm. 

“Oh…oh God…” you moaned out.

He then took your legs and hooked them so they were around his waist. He was breathing in deep. He plunged, this time further.

“Oh!” you cried out.

“Sweet lady-yes- dear, sweet lady,” he panted out between thrusts. “Yes-yes-keep-don’t be quiet. Don’t be timid-oh-just-just keep telling me- let them know, let them all know how the king pleasures you.”

He dove in again, letting out a grunt. A sound you never knew you could make flew out of you. His hand then dove into you. It found your bud and began to strum you as he continued to thrust in and out.

“Does-does your king give you pleasure?” he grunted.

“Yes-yes, my lord!” you began to cry out. 

It began to speed up. Something in you was spinning, spinning up. Your voice was starting to rise; you were gripping the bedsheets.

He then paused, and he pulled out of you. Before you could ask any questions, he had you flipped onto your stomach.

“Hold onto the bed,” he demanded.

You grabbed the headboard. Gripping it tight. Knowing exactly what was going to happen.

He then took you again from this different angle, and you felt him behind you.

“Oh, oh god, my lord!” you cried out. The pain mixed with pleasure from his position. He himself let out another cry.

He increased the pace. Pounding into you with a fury. Breasts bouncing, your own cries and moans grew louder and louder. But the pleasure was immense. The filthiness of this act, of him being behind you- it rose something in you that you couldn’t name. You only held tighter onto the headboard as he started to pound into you.

“Oh god- oh god! My-my lord!” 

“Call-call me Henry!” he then demanded.

 “Oh-yes, yes, my lord! Yes, Henry!”

“Yes-yes-use-use my name- keep saying it!”

His hands reached between your legs and fiddled with your bud again. Going at a more furious pace, the bed shaking. His own grunts and moans increasing. But so did the strength of his strokes on your bud. That, mixed with this position, gave you that spinning feeling again. That rising sensation.

“Henry-Henry-oh-Henry I-I-I’m close-I’m gonna come, I-I-”

“I-I am too-hold on-yes, yes, like that-make me have you, come now, your-your king commands you-”

Soon enough, it broke on you. You felt suspended in bliss, in pure, pure pleasure. With a final cry, he came too, and you felt his hot seed spurt inside you. Both of you lay there, panting. Your hold onto the headboard slipped, and you fell into the bed. 

He pulled out of you and then grabbed your waist. He pulled you down to lie beside him, still panting hard. You placed a hand on his pectorals. The sudden warmth seeping through you. Here he was, holding you. He held you tight to him; you could hear his heartbeat and smell the woods on him.

“I’m going to talk to your father. I’ll keep you as a concubine. You won’t leave my side,” he said as he caught his breath. 

At this point, you wouldn’t have minded that.

How slow they came, their horses at a mere trot. Their white flags with red crosses waving in the wind. Everyone crowded before them. One officer dragged forward your father, the Governor, and forced him to kneel. 

You stood nearby, your mother hugging her arms around you, to shield you, protect you. You could hear the faint, worried murmurs of the crowd all about you. Wondering what would happen. You heard the king of England was making a conquest of France, but how distant it all seemed until he was here. 

You looked up at the king in front and center on his white horse. You had never looked at a king before.

You could not deny he was a handsome man. Young, but not boyish. Virile. He was tall and lean, with auburn-blonde curls and a short, cropped beard. High cheekbones. The most piercing blue eyes you have ever seen. And bedecked in his armor, one would think him a knight from a story. Except for the crown.

“Do you understand what happens when an army goes through and sacks a city, governor? What will happen if you do not let us through?” He asked. 

There was silence from your father.

The king then spoke, his voice rising.

“Houses will be destroyed, lives will be taken. We will pull your old men by their beards. Your daughters will shriek when they are handed to soldiers. Hungry for their viriginities. Your infants we will set on spikes as their mothers scream. That is what will happen.”

You heard sounds of worry and shock from the crowd. Mothers looked down at their children. 

The king looked over. He noticed you. You felt your eyes on him. Growing warm in your face, you lowered your eyes in timidness. Not daring to glare at a king. 

 It felt like one was at the edge of a cliff and dreading the gust of wind that would fall. One word from the king would release chaos and horrors of all unspeakable kinds. Upon your family. And you. 

“But…all this we will avoid, on two conditions…” the king announced. His voice softened.

“Two?” asked your father.

“One, that you let us pass….” began the king.

“And the second?” asked your father. 

The king’s eyes fell on you again. 

“Who is this woman?” he asked.

“My daughter.”

The king paused a moment before he spoke. 

“You offer your daughter to me for the night.”

You felt your heart race. Your stomach began churning. Already, you were trembling all over your limbs. No, you thought, no, no, no, no…

Your mother pulled you in tighter.

“She will not be yours!” she blurted.

The king silenced her with a look.

“You will let us pass. And your daughter will be in my bed. Or I will set my soldiers upon the town,” repeated the king. 

But…what choice did you have? If you refused, if your father refused…then how many more women would be raped? How many lives lost or ruined?

“My…my daughter’s honor…” muttered your father, still on his knees.

“Will be compensated, with a wealthy dowry,” assured the king. He nodded at one officer beside him, who pulled out a bag of coins.

“She is not a whore! My daughter is worth more than any of your gold can buy!” your father spat back.

Pulling out of your mother's arms, heart racing, you stepped forward. You walked over and kneeled next to your father.

“Mon pere…let it happen,” you whispered. 

Father looked at you, his jaw dropped.

“Tell the king you accept,” you assured him. “I will go to him. It’s only one night, and it will be over. I’ll have a dowry worth more than the one saved up for me. Afterwards, I can marry whoever I want.”

Father turned his head back to the king. He then spoke.

“Your soldiers may pass. And you may have her.”

A deep exhale went throughout the crowd. Your mother put her hands over her mouth, tears in her eyes. Soon enough, Henry took the reins of the horse. He looked over to the man on the horse next to him. An older man with long, grey hair. 

“Tonight, we stay here as guests. Grant them mercy,” he ordered.

The older man nodded. He then turned, and word trickled down to the soldiers.

A path was formed among the crowd as the people stepped away, and the king and his horse and army rode through it.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours later, the older man approached you at the door in your home. 

“My lady, the king has summoned you,” he announced.

Your mother got out a handkerchief and began to weep. Your father hung his head down in shame. You then walked outside and followed the gentleman through your city of Harlefleur.

You knew already where you were going. Your father may have been the governor, but the Dumont’s were the wealthiest family in town. Their mansion in the center was the largest. So it was there that the king stayed. And it was there that the older man, who was the lord of Exeter, escorted you.

The lord of Exeter walked you through the front door. He guided you upstairs, past the servants of the house. He then led you to one separate room. It had a fireplace and a cream four-poster bed. Inside was a large tub and female servants with cloths and soap. 

“The king ordered you to bathe.”

“I’m not dirty,” you said. You were still a lady who took care to always appear proper, especially in front of men. And in front of kings.

“Still, you must be clean before the presence of his majesty,” the lord of Exeter declared. He then closed the door.

They set you in the tub, already full of water. Making sure not to make your hair too wet, they scrubbed all over your body until you were truly clean. You then got out and dried with a towel. 

One of the servants, an older woman with wrinkles and grey hair, brought forward a golden dress.

“The king said he would like you to wear this,” she announced.

The maids helped you step into the dress and secured it in the back. They gave you a jeweled belt. They then took care of your hair as you would have liked it. At least you had a little say in these matters.

It was a dress even more beautiful than the ones you owned. It had long sleeves and a small train. The jeweled belt flattered your figure. There was an ample cut square collar that flattered the top of your chest. You were then given a jeweled headdress placed on top of your head. 

How did they get this? Was it stolen? From a common woman attacked by a soldier? No, for these were not the clothes of a common woman. From the lady of the house? You didn’t know.

There was a knock on the door. The older woman opened it and revealed the Lord of Exeter. 

“Now…it is time,” he announced. 

You followed him out, holding up your skirt so you wouldn’t trip. Heads of servants turned towards you, eyes curious. He then led you to a large door. He knocked on it.

“You may enter,” came the king’s voice.

He pushed open the door, and you stepped inside.

Inside, it was lit with candles. There was a table with chairs. Chests here and there. And a great, large bed in the center of it, with thick red blankets and feather pillows. A crackling fireplace. There, dressed in red leathers and his crown in front of the fire, was his majesty the king of England. He was leaning against the railing, but straightened himself once he saw you. 

You dipped into the lowest curtsy you could.

“Thank you. You may now leave us, uncle,” said the king. 

The lord of Exeter closed the door behind him. Your heart picked up again. You stood still and folded your hands. 

“Do you speak English?” he asked.

“Like my mother tongue, your grace,” you answered. 

The king walked forward. You kept your eyes down as he circled you. He then stopped in front of you. Hands gesturing forward to the table. 

“Here, sit.”

You walked over and sat down. The table was bare except for a bottle of wine and two goblets. 

“Would you like some wine?” asked the king.

You did not answer, eyeing the bottle with nervousness. 

“Rest assured, there is nothing in it. Only wine,” replied the king. 

“Yes, of course.”

He poured out some in a goblet and handed it to you. Inside it was a deep, dark red. It looked almost black. The taste was dry and bitter, but it was strong.

“What is your name?” he asked.

You gave it to him. 

He poured his own cup and took a deep drink. He then set it down. You could feel something in his eyes. There was a stillness. As if he was doing everything in his power not to reach out and grab you at once. No, he was showing restraint.

“Do you like the wine?” he asked.

“Yes. It is good, my lord.”

“Would you like any food?”

“No, no thank you, my lord.”

You took another drink, deepening it. If the wine affected you, this would be more pleasant. You could drink your way through this. The king leaned forward, his hands together. He looked all over you.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, my lord,” you replied.

“It pleases me when you say that. You may keep calling me ‘my lord.’ And your majesty.”

“Of course, my lord.”

You took another sip of wine. You were already getting to the end of your drink. You felt your body warmed by the fireplace. Outside, one could hear an owl.

“Why did you make this request, my lord?” you asked.

He was still. Then he spoke in a soft voice.

“My lady, because I want you beyond what words can describe.”

He then stood up and walked to you. He held out a hand, and you accepted it. He led you to stand up. His hands traced over your sides, then up to your face. He even tipped your chin up with his hand.

“Look at me,” he said.

You obeyed.

“Promise me one thing?” he asked.

You looked up at him.

“Never stop looking at me.”

He then leaned forward and kissed you. It was…warm, his lips were soft. Already, you could feel yourself melting in, giving away. It was a sweet kiss, far sweeter than anything you expected would happen tonight.

His hands wandered to your back, supporting you as he gave you another kiss. He leaned down further. His hands clutched onto you. 

You let go, already trying to catch your breath. His hands went to the top of your head and took off your headdress. He then went to your belt and undid it as it fell to the floor. His hands then went to the back of your dress, and began to undo it.

You let him. Something in you was growing.

Soon enough, the dress fell to the ground before you. You wore only a shift. Your own breathing was deep. You looked right at him. He took his hands and went to the sleeves on your shoulders of your shift. It was already loose with an open collar. 

He then pulled it down by the sleeves.

Soon it fell, revealing your breasts, then the rest of your body as it fell in a circle around your feet.

He looked down at you. His hands grazing your breasts.

“Beautiful,” was all he said.

He took you in his arms and picked you up. You wondered how strong he was; it was as if you were nothing but air. He carried you over to the bed and laid you down.

He took off his own doublet and the shirt beneath it, revealing his chest. You wondered at his muscles. He then removed his codpiece. You could see he was already hard. You wondered how hard he had been the entire time. He took off his boots in a hurry. You leaned forward to have a look. He then removed his pants. Already, his large manhood was reaching high, leaking precum.

He joined you on the bed and hovered over you. You could feel his cock graze your stomach. Hearts racing, you saw him reach his hand and use it to part your legs. 

He tested you. He plunged a finger inside your core. Already, you could feel yourself getting wet at his touch. You moaned at it, feeling him inside, digging around.

“Are you a virgin?” he asked.

You gave him your answer. And he nodded.

He prepared you, his finger spreading you open, and then found a spot and teased it. It swirled around you, making space. You then felt him add another finger.

“My…my lord…”

“Spread your legs wider, your king commands it,” he breathed.

You obeyed, going as wide as you could. He set himself between them. He then pulled himself forward, his face meeting your own. His cock at your entrance.

He then thrust forward.

You let out a small sound. He was quite large; there was a pinprick of pain. He pulled out, and then he entered again. And again. He then began a rhythm. 

“Oh…oh God…” you moaned out.

He then took your legs and hooked them so they were around his waist. He was breathing in deep. He plunged, this time further.

“Oh!” you cried out.

“Sweet lady-yes- dear, sweet lady,” he panted out between thrusts. “Yes-yes-keep-don’t be quiet. Don’t be timid-oh-just-just keep telling me- let them know, let them all know how the king pleasures you.”

He dove in again, letting out a grunt. A sound you never knew you could make flew out of you. His hand then dove into you. It found your bud and began to strum you as he continued to thrust in and out.

“Does-does your king give you pleasure?” he grunted.

“Yes-yes, my lord!” you began to cry out. 

It began to speed up. Something in you was spinning, spinning up. Your voice was starting to rise; you were gripping the bedsheets.

He then paused, and he pulled out of you. Before you could ask any questions, he had you flipped onto your stomach.

“Hold onto the bed,” he demanded.

You grabbed the headboard. Gripping it tight. Knowing exactly what was going to happen.

He then took you again from this different angle, and you felt him behind you.

“Oh, oh god, my lord!” you cried out. The pain mixed with pleasure from his position. He himself let out another cry.

He increased the pace. Pounding into you with a fury. Breasts bouncing, your own cries and moans grew louder and louder. But the pleasure was immense. The filthiness of this act, of him being behind you- it rose something in you that you couldn’t name. You only held tighter onto the headboard as he started to pound into you.

“Oh god- oh god! My-my lord!” 

“Call-call me Henry!” he then demanded.

 “Oh-yes, yes, my lord! Yes, Henry!”

“Yes-yes-use-use my name- keep saying it!”

His hands reached between your legs and fiddled with your bud again. Going at a more furious pace, the bed shaking. His own grunts and moans increasing. But so did the strength of his strokes on your bud. That, mixed with this position, gave you that spinning feeling again. That rising sensation.

“Henry-Henry-oh-Henry I-I-I’m close-I’m gonna come, I-I-”

“I-I am too-hold on-yes, yes, like that-make me have you, come now, your-your king commands you-”

Soon enough, it broke on you. You felt suspended in bliss, in pure, pure pleasure. With a final cry, he came too, and you felt his hot seed spurt inside you. Both of you lay there, panting. Your hold onto the headboard slipped, and you fell into the bed. 

He pulled out of you and then grabbed your waist. He pulled you down to lie beside him, still panting hard. You placed a hand on his pectorals. The sudden warmth seeping through you. Here he was, holding you. He held you tight to him; you could hear his heartbeat and smell the woods on him.

“I’m going to talk to your father. I’ll keep you as a concubine. You won’t leave my side,” he said as he caught his breath. 

At this point, you wouldn’t have minded that.

“James? Is this you?” your delicate voice echoed theatrically through the hallway of your shared apartment. 

Your husband, Captain James Conrad had left early this morning for a military conference to discuss any further operations regarding the SAS. His mood had been bad when he woke up, a live testament to how much the tracker disliked those unnecessary events.

However, he had to go whether he liked it or not. The Special Forces needed him.

But so did you, waiting impatiently for the handsome soldier to return, his favorite dish simmering on the stove. 

A long sigh came back, his “yes” short and tense before heavy shoes were tossed around in the foyer. 

Clenching your jaw you swallowed the slight spurt of anger arousing at the sound almost radiating dirt itself. Conrad never paid attention to the obligation to wear a suit plus you had mopped the foyer only this morning. 

The silent rumbling and curses made it clear that his day had been as shit as expected so he shall be forgiven you decided when the tall man appeared in the doorframe of the kitchen. 

“Hello love” you chirped, eyes traveling his muscular form when he latched his hands on the top bar of the frame, leaning his broad torso in the room and blocking the door completely.

But his steel blues only narrowed, piercing your every move, mouth screwed shut. The blonde man looked strained, utterly tense. 

“I’m so sorry you had to go there”. A meek mutter but you knew you were elegantly teetering on the brink of cutting his thin nerves. 

And god forbid riling Conrad up. 

Jutting his jaw forward and letting his eyes nonchalantly linger on your suggestive décolleté, the soldier hummed to himself. A sound so low and baritone that it tickled your nerves, the stern gaze adding to the thrill rising up between your legs.

He was a naturally intimidating man however, now that he was angry it was almost impossible to not help him out. Was it?

“Captain…” you cooed, hips seductively weaving past the kitchen counter “is there anything I can do for you?”. 

The blonde’s forearms bulged as they held his weight transferring it to the creaking wood frame.

“You don’t want me to use you right now, y/n. I won’t be able to control myself” his deep pitched growl so close to your ear elicited hot shivers on your back, cascading down every vertebra.

It slowly spread hunger and perhaps overconfidence. 

“What if I don’t want you to?”. 

Faux innocence dropped from your demeanor as you toyed with the silver buckle of his belt, waiting for him to snap. To accept the offer you had made so boldly. 

“Fuck, woman” and suddenly Conrad’s arm slipped down from above, snaking around your waist, turning you and knocking the air out of your lungs when his tall frame slammed you against the wall. 

An easy game to the trained soldier.

Those blue orbs were seething with annoyance and rage. Dusky.

Nonetheless, desire bubbled up in his dark waters mixing with those negative thoughts revealing a toxic cocktail. And a strong one.

God, you knew it would burn. 

Your whimpers were pathetic when Conrad unleashed himself, reaching behind your back to roughly pull down the zipper of your dress. 

“This. Off” the low demand rumbled in his broad chest making you quick putty in his demanding touch. James could be an awfully sensual lover but he was two-faced, hiding the hunger of something carnal in his pumping veins.

Cold air embraced your body only dressed in the lingerie he had bought you. Black lace was draped across your breasts, quickly flicked to the side to expose your hardening nipples. 

Moaning with the poor amount of oxygen Conrad’s body pressed tight against yours allowed you, his perfect teeth rolled your sensitive buds just right.

Oh, how sweet the prickling pain was and how much sweeter his cold, long digits felt invading your slick folds. 

“Hmm... you’re all wet for me. Married a whore, didn’t I?”

“Uh-huh“ was all your agape mouth could whimper when he started to fuck you hard with his fingers, your wrists secured above your head.

Pulling primal pleasure from your body, the significantly taller man's pants were forming harsh creases around his angry erection.

Now that you offered yourself so selflessly, he simply wouldn't be able to hold back.

Grunting in your ear like a feral lion, Conrad pressed his whole weight against your delicate body, caging you in between a column of muscle and the cold kitchen wall.

“Use me, Ca-Captain... pleaseee“

Your hips were bucking forward to let your pelvis brush his hardened cock.

“You gonna regret this, little one“ his ragged baritone rasped so imminently before you were dragged off the wall with a sharp pull of your wrists.

In only underwear while James was still completely clothed, just his belt hanging sluttishly open, you were hurled across the kitchen like a ragdoll. But you liked it, giggling in a haze of kinky desire.

“Is this fun for you?“ he boomed.

But before you could apologize, the tall blonde flipped you around, letting loose of your wrists to slam your back on top of a free counter. The hard marble edge sent a sorrow sensation through your back until he simply readjusted your position to his liking.

Just like that with only one arm Conrad conducted your whole body until he was standing between your opened thighs, jaw clenching hungrily at the sight of your glistening pussy on full display.

Full access.

“You will stay like that until I'm satisfied, understood?“ he snapped, freezing anger piled up from the day slipping from his lewdly flicking tongue.

God, you could almost orgasm from the sight of his pink tongue swirling in his slightly ajar mouth, occasionally darting out to lick his lips. This man was an image of a god.

“I won't fucking ask twice, y/n“.

Squirming under his dominating gaze that proudly reduced you to a mere plaything, it was unfairly difficult to find any words. Especially when Conrad's slutty hands had freed his throbbing, angry red cock and were now pleasuring himself in lewd strokes.

“Understood, Captain“.

A deep chuckle met the pitch of sudden thunder outside; a thrill you never thought would be this menacing but you husband's gaze was clear.

He was ready to devour you, use you to soothe his agitated nerves until, like he had said, he would be satisfied.

“Look what you've gotten yourself into“ the soldier smirked, pulling all the beautiful strings of contour his sharp face had to offer. Tongue flicked out again, licking across his front teeth like a threat while he took in the sight of his bog cock resting on your belly.

“So helpless“.

The tip ended somewhere around or even above your belly button, the raw outline of this obscene display making you feel dizzy.

“-and you gonna take me“ Conrad murmured, grabbing the base of his cock and slowly dragging it through your drenched core. You wanted, no, craved him as much as he did.

Blonde brows furrowed when you whimpered small pleas beneath his tall frame.

“Like the good little girl you are... You wanna satisfy my needs, don't you?“

The flash of another lighting casted a light blue shadow of his frame onto yours, the difference even more sinister than you had imagined. This man could break you like a mere pen.

Perhaps he would.

A feeble nod was all it took to make him bend over, the neckline of his blue shirt hanging down, allowing you a glimpse of sharply defined muscles working to keep him stable.

With the next dull thunder his left hand flew to wrap around your throat, pinning you to the cold surface. A necessary preparation so you wouldn't flee from his rough thrusts.

He sometimes did it when he was taking you on the balcony...

Lining himself up with your entrance, you shuddered, spine feeling ablaze from pure anticipation. James would be rough but you didn't care.

Fuck, you were a sucker for the tall soldier manhandling you as if he lacked any sense of respect.

Perhaps he did.

“My little slut“ the 't' still sitting sharply on his tongue when he bottomed out in one demanding thrust. A fluid motion of his strong hips that stretched you to your limit and beyond.

A silent “James“ left your lips when your walls tried to accommodate to the sudden intrusion, his cock stilling for a fragment of time.

Heavy rain was knocking on the window.

Then, Conrad's head rolled back, veins and strings of muscle straining his sweaty skin while he began to pound into you, to set a pace that was testament to the necessity of his hand pinning you in place.

He was rough, taking what he wanted from you.

Crying out his name, your hands flew to the sides desperately searching for something to hold on to. But his forearm flexed and bulged as it worked against Conrad's own merciless thrusts, secured safely around your neck. Allowing you a precisely measured amount of breath.

“F-Fuck baby. You- you are so t-tight... god yesss“ your husband moaned up towards the ceiling, his strong voice hoarse from today's discussions.

A forte in comparison to your high pitched screams of his name.

“James, I- I can't take it“.

Not even slowing down, his head rolled back forth, loose curls fucked out of place. He knew you could, somehow. And your tense husband was more than ready to test your boundaries.

A dirty grin curled Conrad's angry lips before his jaw dropped to give way to increasing pants.

As if by reflex your thighs tried to clench, to push him away but the blonde just shook his head, leaning back down to hover above your chest.

“Ah, Ah!“

The chiding was a carnal sound, swirling around every nerve in your bouncing body, embedding them in a sweet haze of total submission.

It felt so good.

“You cannot nghh fuck escape me. I know you can t-take me“.

Retracting his grip around your throat, the strained soldier dragged it down your body, kneading your breasts until he wrapped his fingers around your thigh.

Both hands were now holding your legs apart, keeping them spread nicely for him.

The slight lift created a whole knew angle, one that hit you like a firework aiming straight at your head and setting every sense aflame. Coherent words were positively banned from your capabilities and all you could feel was him sheathed deep inside your throbbing pussy.

Arching your back from the marble countertop, you listened to your husband moaning and grunting primal sounds of sheer pleasure. Your own whines and screams added as another thunder rolled through the room, the lighting prior as blueish as Conrad's narrowed gaze observing your every move.

“Sh-shit look at your pretty tits bouncing for me“ he rasped with brows slanted, reaching down to smack your right breasts. A sensation utterly pleasing, the soft pain spreading nicely across your aroused body.

The food was long forgotten as screeching noises of your naked ass shifting on the marble got drowned by rough moans of your name mixed with unholy curses.

The kitchen smelled like sex.

Hot, shameless and angry sex.

“I'm gonna ohhh James cum“ you mewled, strands of hair sticking to your glossy lips when your body was conducted by his pistoning hips.

You could feel his big cock deep inside twitch and pulsate as you spoke, biting your lips at the influence you had on this incredibly tall, athletic soldier.

But today was about his pleasure.

The answer was already clear when he pulled you back onto his cock, burying himself to the hilt, making you cry out.

“Don't you dare cum“ he groaned, teeth bared like a hungry wolf. “I said we're done when I'm satisfied“.

Staring at his piercing gaze of deep blue, your face was contorted in ways only James Conrad could elicit.

When he fucked you just right. Just like that.

“Wha- are you n-not-“

But your ragged voice was cut off by two strong arms dropping your legs, instead shooting closer to wrap around your shoulders, picking you up.

Wriggling his tight jaw to rest against your right temple, his long legs began their journey towards the bedroom. Conrad was still deep inside you, every step letting his cock nudge those sinfully sweet spots.

“Do I look satisfied to you, huh? Oh, I am far from finished“ his low baritone whispered in your ear, another strike of lighting casting your joined shadow on the white tiles.

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoyed it @simplyholl ♡