Warning: fluffy smut lies within!
Summary: Arthur and Gwen celebrate their marriage...
Author's Notes: Written for the 100 Fantasies challenge, host by camelot_love. The prompt was "wedding night". Comments are ♥ & concrit is appreciated!
She wanted a summer wedding. Surprisingly specific, she told him it ought to happen sometime in June; that way there would be bright flowers, comfortable warmth and soft sunlight during the ceremony. Initially, he had argued. To his mind, immediacy was a good thing, it would make her Guinevere Pendragon and meant he would be waking with her tucked to his side much sooner, something he wanted desperately.
But Gwen had bit her lip at his protests, and his resistance faltered. Arthur was used to getting what he wanted; Gwen was not, and so he bowed to her wishes and they married in mid-June.
It was late into the night after their ceremony, the air was warm enough to do away with blankets, and the windows to their chambers were open, filtering in the night sounds of Camelot: from hushed insect and plant noises to revelers still taking advantage of the celebratory wine. Guinevere's dress was lying over a chair where he had taken great care in placing it after he divested her from it. She had not been so careful with his attire: trousers and shirt in one heap, jacket bundled in a corner near the door.
He had already brought her to climax three times that night. First with his fingers, the callouses from sword practice proving more versatile than anticipated as she'd sobbed for him never to stop. Gwen's moans had stoked him into a state of fevered desire, and soon they were tangled, passionately embraced, moving together until they cried out simultaneously...
As they panted their way through the aftershocks of pleasure, she was drowsy beneath him, and so Arthur took advantage of her lethargy, mapping her body with his mouth, his tongue eventually stroking her to pleasure again. Gwen's hands had fisted in their sheets and her cry of his name as she peaked had reignited his desire. Her fingers had then caught his chin, and she drew him upwards, her kisses a leisurely invitation he willingly accepted.
Arthur pressed his face into Gwen's neck as he buried himself in her again. Her body arched into his, the sweat-slickness of her skin passing smoothly across his. Their rhythm was slow this time, indulgent. The quietly satisfied moans and sighs were as freshly arousing to them as the pace they now set. Their secrecy had never afforded them this luxury, and while they frequently tried to take their time with each other, lovemaking had never before had such a lazily satiating quality for them.
As she dragged her thigh up to his hip, his teeth closed gently over her shoulder and he bit down, just hard enough to leave a slight pink mark in the cocoa of her skin. Gwen tipped her head back, pressing it deeply into the pillow, her hand, already grasping his shoulder, tightening its hold. Arthur slid a hand down her side, holding her hip and shifting to sink more deeply into her.
Her thigh trembled at the change and he closed his eyes at the sensation. Her thumb brushed across his eyelid softly, her fingers stroking through his damp hair. Gwen's hand caressed his scalp as Arthur moved in her again... again... again... again...
As Gwen bit her lip, his lids opened and through desire-hazed eyes, they looked at each other. "Arthur," she whispered with such affection that warmth flooded him, pulsing against and twisting with his arousal. Her head lifted to meet his halfway, her leg curling around his when their mouths touched. With a small twist of her hips, and a tug of her leg, she drew him deeper, at the same time slipping her tongue between his lips. The motion sent thrills down his spine, forcing a low moan from his throat.
Nestling himself between her thighs, he turned his attention to her mouth momentarily. Their tongues tangling lazily caused Guinevere's arms to slide across his shoulders, hugging him tightly to her as they kissed. He felt every curve, every inch of her body pressed into his and sent his hands stroking along her sides. Her tongue swept seductively across the roof of his mouth and Arthur shifted his hips, grinding into her.
The movement knocked a soft gasp from her mouth into his and he moved the same way again. For each breath she took, Arthur rotated his hips against Gwen's until her thighs tightened around him, her hands grasping his shoulders in gentle convulsions. With a gasp, she broke their kiss, tipping her head back and raising her hips to curve her body to his as she climaxed around him.
He watched as her expression delicately painted him a portrait of her rapture... It was a look he anticipated seeing thousands of times in the future, free of doubt or fear. Adoration curled warmly around his heart as the last of the tremors went through her; she would be his Queen, by his side, until they last drew breath. Guinevere opened her eyes, watching him for a moment with a small, gratified smile, before she put her mouth to his ear. She mumbled nonsensical affections to him, hot breath breezing against his neck, and he began to move again, matching each word she spoke, relishing the dance of her fingers down his spine.
His senses narrowed: there was little thought or feeling besides pleasure and the woman who had brought him there, his wife at last. It wasn't long until Arthur groaned, "Guinevere," into her shoulder and released as she held him tightly.
Closing his eyes, Arthur nuzzled his nose against hers before rolling to the side. Gwen squirmed to curl against him, fitting her head to the nook of his shoulder before she pressed a soft kiss into his chest. They lay in silence for a few minutes, Arthur's hand stroking along her back as her fingers smoothed the hairs of his chest.
"What shall we do tomorrow?" he asked softly. His father had arranged for his duties to be delegated to his Knights, and in one case to Uther himself, for the next two days as a gift to the couple. It may have taken him time to accept Guinevere as Arthur's choice, but Arthur was pleasantly surprised at the lengths the King now went to in order to dote upon his new daughter-in-law.
She shifted slightly, pressing herself closer to him and slinging one of her legs over his. "I suppose we ought to leave our chambers," she said regretfully, sounding as though she was thinking nothing would be better than staying in bed all day.
Arthur chuckled and caught her hand in his. "I never thought that suggestion would come from you," he whispered, and Gwen laughed. He inhaled deeply, the warm air still smelled of their mingled scents and their lovemaking. It increased his temptation to do as she suggested... But after a pause he sighed, somewhat rueful, before continuing. "We are dutybound to make an appearance, however."
"I know," she mumbled, and he wasn't sure if he imagined the sleepy flutter of her eyelashes against his skin. "And it would be nice to walk in the market." She paused, breathing out a contented sigh. "They're so happy, Arthur." The slumberous wonder in her tones sent a shock of pleasure through him and his arm automatically tightened to pull her closer.
Contentment curled through his tummy, sending spirals of warmth flowing with his blood and Arthur stayed quiet for a few moments. "They are," he whispered, and Guinevere cuddled her cheek into his chest, her hand tightening briefly around his. It was the last they spoke that night, each falling easily into deep sleeps, the Prince and his wife finally secure in their love.