When Day Turns Night (5 page)

He suckled softly
at my creamy skin, our moans of pleasure filling the air of my
bedchambers. He pushed the red fabric down along my body removing my
underclothes with it. I pulled his tunic up and over his head, then
went to his trousers.

I wanted to explore
his nude body up close, yearned for it. Our lips danced with each
others as I removed the last remnants of his clothing, leaving us
both bare before each other. Our bodies were distinctly different.
I pushed him gently back to lay upon his back. Then I sat up. His
sword stood erect, long and thick, bigger by twice than when I had
seen him bathing. The head glistened with moistness. I swirled my
finger along that moist tip. He was watching me, his lips slightly
parted. As I touched him, sliding my hand around the width of his
shaft.

My fingers played
in the wiry hair, and then cupped his soft balls. The texture was
amazing. I knew that lips made men happy, and I had long wanted to
taste it. I bent and slid my lips around the tip of the wide head.
“Oh god, Jesmaine, Princess, god!” He moaned as my mouth
began to work. Everything about it was lovely, because it was part
of a man I loved. The wide mushroom tip, the veiny shaft, the large
soft balls. I sucked and kissed, working my tongue in circles,
kissing and sucking up the side, gently pushing it to the back of my
throat until I feared I may gag then backing off.

“Princess,
please, no more or I shall be spent!”

I smiled up at him,
sitting back. He sat up and kissed me, despite my flavors being of
him. Then pushed me back into the pillows. His lips wandered down
my body and I ached, realizing suddenly that he meant to return the
favor! I had not heard of this aspect of love-making. I ached as he
kissed and sucked along my belly and down through the thatch of fur
on my womanhood. I knew I had a hole there he would enter, but not
how or where. I knew it would hurt the first time and I would give
him my virgin blood.

When he spread my
lower lips and his breath whispered over my opening I cried out in
pleasure, my fingers wrapping in the quilt. His mouth disappeared
between my legs, sealing over my body and kissing me. I felt his
kiss deepen and his wide tongue pressed against spots I didn't know I
had, flicking and driving and pushing me. My body ached, my legs
quivered, and I fought the urge to giggle as his tongue and mouth
worked. Then suddenly the tickles ebbed and a deeper sensation
overwhelmed me. Heat blossomed in my belly, hot and hard, like iron
being heated in the fire, his breath the bellows, stoking the flame.
His tongue thrusts the hammers form it into a ball. My entire body
was being remolded to that place.

“God! God!”
I grunted and suddenly, as though that hot ball of iron was suddenly
turned to glass it shattered, exploding through my body, arching me
up and off the bed. I cried out in rapture, devoured by the
sensations coursing through my body.

Trian kissed his
way up my body as the sensation slowly ebbed, looking at me, his blue
eyes wide. “Are you sure about this my lady Princess?
Conchobor will be furious.”

I took his face in
my hands, letting the love I had for him show true. “Take my
virgin blood, Trian, please. I am only Jesmaine, no more Princess
tonight.”

He kissed me deep
then, and I could taste my sex mingling with his. Gently he stroked
between my legs with his hand, and sat back on his buttocks. Gently
he pulled me up to sit atop him, my legs around his waist. I felt
the mushroom head of his penis pressing against me.

My eyes were wide,
and I struggled to breathe, my body excited and nervous.

“Ready, my
love?” He murmured, kissing me softly.

I nodded, my heart
pounding. He slid inside with one powerful stroke, driving into my
wet walls. I arched into him, not sure whether to pull away or push
into him. He stole my cry of pain with a kiss, and gently slid out.
I could feel my wetness, but the pain was only discomfort as he
moved.

“More...please,”
I breathed. Trian obliged, gently stroking inside me. The
discomfort was minimal. He adjusted our posture a bit, bringing me
toward him so my breasts were pressed into him, and he moved my hips
down on his length. I felt his penis curl toward the front of my
belly. His powerful thighs corded and moved against my legs as he
stroked his hips up into me, as though petting my insides.

Then, as though he
had found a strange button I yelped, and those shards of glass that
had my skin standing on edge started melting back together, forming
once again the iron ball.

God, was this an
orgasm? So delicious and powerful. The more his body found that
button in me the more noise I made. I couldn't stop it, I moaned, I
whimpered, I cried. Finally I could handle it no longer and I felt
the explosion within me again and I screamed his name, not caring who
knew that my virgin blood was given to this captain I was so in love
with. I arched and almost fell back, but he caught me, holding me to
him still.

I felt him push
deep and he moaned, his body tightening, and I realized he was
releasing his seed within me, his orgasm pulsing through him.

I watched as lips
parted with his breath and his eyes squeezed shut in exaltation. He
was more beautiful in that moment, as though he had been lifted to be
with God. An angel, and suddenly I knew.

None shall usurp
him as heir and future king save the son of my blood. My blood
sheathed his cock, stained the bed. Permanently tied us together. I
was not a son, but Trian had taken my blood freely given. My
father's son. He kissed me and I knew in that moment. We would be
safe. He would save us.

The Next Morn

We were awoken
before dawn the next morn, my lady's maids eyes were white with her
shock, but she hurried about setting out my gown, bathing my
sensitive and sore body. Trian bathed in my room as well, not
bearing to leave my side.

They hurried
quickly to wash me, and provided Trian with fresh clothing, begging
decorum and for him to leave the room. I wouldn't allow it. Lassi
entered, her face sober, no doubt being fetched to handle the man in
the Princess's Chambers.

Her eyes darted to
the bed, her full cheeks blushed deeply as she saw my virgin blood,
red against the snowy white plane.

“Princess,”
she murmured, and crossed toward us, she turned to shoo Trian from
the room, but I touched her arm.

“He stays.
He is of my father's blood now. We shall be wed on the castle walls
at dawn. Arrange it.”

Lassi's mouth
dropped open, “Princess, my lady...”

“Now.”
I turned away dismissing her and shook my head at the soft blue
lovely gown my ladies held in front of me. Gown after gown appeared
before me, but frustrated I shook my head against them. Purple,
gold, white, pink. Soft and lovely and exquisite, but none what I
sought.

“I must look
the Queen, powerful, strong.” I looked at Trian, “and
Trian must look the King. He is now a Prince of blood.”

My mother opened
the door at that moment, as they held a lilac gown up.

She looked at the
blood stain on the bed, at Trian as he stood in his black leather
trousers shirtless, and me in a simple linen cloth that barely
concealed my body.

“Tis true
then.”

I looked at my
mother. I couldn't form words.

“You love
him?” She asked. I looked at Trian knowing it was true.

“Yes.”

“Today we
shall see if God respects your offering, a son of King Dauid's
blood.” She touched the edge of the bed beside the stain.

“It is our
hope.”

“Perhaps our
only. That dress will not do.” She snapped her fingers and
one of our maids dashed to her. She sprinted from the room then, and
my mother stepped forward. “This was not the way I would have
it, but your decision is the best that is offered. I had much the
same thoughts last night as I slept. Now let us make you a Queen.

I took a deep
breath, walking silently through the castle, the dress my mother had
been crowned in fit snugly against my body, red with green trim. My
hair was brushed and coiled back into her very first and very
elaborate crown. It was beautiful, powerful, lovely. Symbolic.

My father's
clothing from that day had been brought forth as well, altered
quickly and efficiently to fit the form of my Trian. He set me
astride a beautiful white mare, and climbed astride a matching
stallion. The gown was spread out behind me, a simple white fur wrap
covered my shoulders.

“My Lady, are
you ready?”

“My Captain,
yes.”

The gates to the
castle opened upon my city, and we rode forth just as dawn was
breaking.

The trumpets blared
wedding songs as we rode silently through the city, our people came
out en masse, armored, and ready for battle. This was a bold move, I
knew, but as soon as we had been dressed and met with the council it
was declared it would be the best way. Let their be no doubt.

The trumpets were
loud, playing the song over and over, and my people crowded into the
courtyards as I mounted the steps, toward the wall facing the army,
my husband holding my arm. My mother was standing at the top of the
steps beside the priest, the first time she wore something other than
black, but she would not remind anyone of my father in a way of
mourning. When I stepped up, I could practically hear Conchobor's
scream of fury, realizing that the wedding trumpets were not for him
and I.

Archer's lined the
walls, ready to shoot should any step forward.

The priest was a
young man, chosen for his loud and booming voice. He began the vows
quickly, making no speeches of happiness, simply stating the things
that must be spoken.

“CATAPULTS!”
I heard Conchobor's voice ring as the priest hurried through his
statements.

“Hurry, damn
it, hurry!” Bran whispered behind Trian, bouncing softly on his
toes, his eyes looking out at the army and back to us.

“I do, I vow
to honor and uphold Jesmaine and the crown,” Trian said loudly.

The priest spoke
quickly, but I could only hear the creaking of the catapults as they
moved through the ranks toward the front. I could see people
hurrying to light huge bonfires on the front lines. I knew there
would soon be hurtles of flaming balls in the air.

“I do,”
I said, despite not hearing the priest's words. “I vow to
respect, obey, honor and uphold the king of my heart and the crown,
Trian.”

I made eye contact
with Trian for the first time in that moment and it was as though the
world fell away.

I slid my ring onto
his finger, and he slid his onto mine. Then at the beckoning of the
Priest we kissed. It was brief, it had to be for the first catapult
shot fired, the wood striking wood and a flaming ball hurtling toward
the city.

“I love you,”
he said quickly.

I smiled, “Aye,
I love you, too.”

There were loud
trumpets again, but this time as a call to arms. The flaming ball
had struck outside the walls.

Trian dashed down
the stairs we had come up, and I feared by this night I may never see
my husband and love again. I watched him take up his mount again in
front of the nearly 200 cavalry we had within the city walls.

In that moment I
saw the banners of the Baron. Bran had received a message near
midnight from a messenger that he and an army nearly 1500 strong was
over the ridge, encircling the Crown Prince, and more were on their
way.

Bran motioned and
another trumpet sound came, echoed by the drums of the Baron's army.
The gates to the city flew open at that moment, and my husband and
his cavalry charged out.

I stepped forward
and picked up the bow, knocking an arrow, and drawing. My sister and
mother at my side. Let us protect Ireland.

Summer, Ireland,
1140

“God, all
mighty deliver me!” I screamed, bearing down on the babe I was
birthing.

My mother held my
hand, crying out her encouragement. I could hear my husband's voice
through the door, calling words of love and prayers for health.

Sweat streamed down
my back, and I felt the babe pass from my body.

“Tis a son!”
My midwife called through the door, and Trian burst through, no
longer caring about decorum, my sister at his heels. They hurried to
my bedside as the babe was passed to me. He was beautiful, simply
beautiful with light brown hair scattered across his brow, and lungs
powerful and strong as he screamed his way to the breast.