It was hard to maintain the swell of passion when waiting for someone to take off armor, but somehow Nerys persisted.
Over time she’d at least learned how to help him remove his armor, but she tended to use this knowledge to tease Aglovale instead of help him. Not that he ever complained, at least not with his words—but Nerys had realized the more she worked him up when they were undressing, the more intense he would be later on.
Her fingers slowly unfastened the belts of his tassets, exploring under his tunic and chainmail to find the leather straps. Every so often her hand would brush up against his groin, purely accidental of course, but every sound he made when she did so brought a cocky little smile to her lips.
“At this point I think it would be faster if I just took my armor off myself,” he said, working on loosening his gauntlets.
“One of these days I’m hoping you’ll get the hint to not wear so much armor when you’re not actually on the battlefield, my love,” she said, unable to hold back a little chuckle despite supposedly admonishing him, moving to next unfasten the chainmail around his waist.
Once the mail was removed and set to the side, she slid off the bed and settled on her knees between his legs, hands on one plate-covered thigh. Reaching around to the clasps that held the cuisses to his legs she unfastened them one by one, following with his greaves and sabatons last.
Glancing up at him and seeing he was preoccupied with the straps on his pauldrons, Nerys placed her hands on his thighs once again. They were no longer encased by plate mail but simply clothed in black trousers, and her hands slid up the fabric until they were beneath his tunic once more, fingers at the trouser’s laces.
“Nerys, I might need some help with—” he began, but his voice caught in his throat when her hands dove beneath the loosened waistband of his pants. She palmed his stiffening length before freeing it from the confines of his trousers and undergarments, stroking him as she looked back up at him.
“Need some help with...?”
“Carry on,” he said as he cleared his throat, catching her eye.
She scooted closer to him, knees sliding against the smooth fabric of her skirt. With one hand she gripped the base of his member, long and thin fingers crowned by manicured nails squeezing him ever so slightly before she took him in her mouth. She hummed a soft little sigh of satisfaction as she enveloped his length, though it turned into a throaty chuckle and a puff of air out of her nose at the groan he made at her contact.
Emboldened by his response she began to bob her head slowly, taking more of him into her mouth with each pass until she gagged. Pulling back to catch her breath for just a moment, she dragged her tongue up the length of his shaft slowly, glancing up at him and catching his eyes once more as she did so.
He reached down, brushing some errant strands out of her face before burying his hand in her hair and holding her head so she had to look at him. She maintained eye contact with him through her lidded eyes, lips wrapping around him once more.
Heat pooled between her legs as she watched him react to her ministrations. His lips were parted, chest rising and falling as his breaths came in short pants, his hand clenching her hair as she felt his cock get harder against her tongue. Oh, that she could reduce the strong and powerful King Aglovale of Wales to this.
It didn’t take much longer for him to pull her head back. She gave him an impish smile, still looking at him through her eyelashes as she wiped the excess saliva from her lips. A ferocity burned behind his red eyes as he moved his hand from her hair to hold her chin.
“I will take you on the floor if you don’t get on the bed, Nerys.”
“As you command, my liege.”
Her tone was playful as she gave him a wink, her countenance a far cry from the emotional wreck she’d been not that long ago. Her eyes were still a bit red and voice a bit hoarse, but everything else about her screamed joy and delight.
Any other woman may worry that perhaps he was just agreeing to this because of the tears, because of the shame. And while Aglovale was certainly not immune to the power of guilt, she’d grown to know him well by now—he would never agree to anything that he didn’t want to do. She respected that about him, and as such knew that his desire in the moment was genuine.
All of that just further bolstered her arousal. She pushed herself up off the ground and slid onto the bed, sinking into the mattress as he climbed atop of her. He’d removed the last of his armor while she was on the floor between his legs, so she wrapped her arms around his pauldronless shoulders and held him tightly as he kissed her, softly at first, but it quickly devolved into greedy fervor.
As much as she liked to see her husband with nothing on at all, the passion of not being able to wait until they were fully undressed was exciting. She spread her legs and he settled between them, the weight of his arousal resting against her groin. Snaking an arm between them she pulled her undergarments to the side, her other hand moving to sink her fingers into his hair now, the tips of her nails digging into his scalp ever so slightly.
“If you’re going to take me then do it,” she chided.
A smirk spread across his lips at her words. She knew Aglovale wouldn’t allow many people to speak to him that way, but with her it was different—really, at the core of it all he wasn’t as frigid as most people made him out to be.
As he repositioned himself she used her hand to help guide him into her—she was slick with arousal and he slid into her easily, pressing himself inside of her until their bodies connected once more. She couldn’t stifle the little whine that escaped her throat at the contact, nor could she hold back a moan as he began moving within her, feeling her cheeks redden as she continued to gaze into his eyes through her own fluttering lids.
His expression had softened, the smirk he’d had just moments ago fading to a gentle smile. The afternoon light was shining through the windows behind him, filtering through his curtain of blonde hair that canopied around them—he looked nigh angelic. Sliding her hand from where she’d been gripping his hair at the base of his neck to settle on his cheek, she gently caressed his skin with her thumb.
“I love you, Aglovale,” she breathed, blinking away hot tears that sprung up in the corners of her eyes—this time tears of happiness, of overwhelming love, not of despair.
“I love you,” he said in return, turning his head just slightly to kiss the palm of her hand.
In these moments, Aglovale was warmth to her.
Not just physical warmth, but something deeper. He often put up icy walls around himself—for undoubtedly understandable reasons, reasons she could never fault him for. The world had not been kind to him, and especially after becoming king at a relatively young age, hiding behind his frozen exterior was the easiest way to simply protect himself.
The facade faded, however, when they were alone together. The Aglovale she’d grown to know was kind and vulnerable and full of love, and it touched her to the core of her being that she could see him like this. That he could always be his true self around her without feeling the need to ice her out.
Nothing about him was truly that cold at all.
There weren’t enough words to accurately convey her feelings, leaving her only able to repeat her devotion for him over and over as the sensation of her love grew in her chest until she felt fit to burst. Tears stung her eyes again as her lips gasped those same three words to him, repeating them like a mantra she never wanted to forget.
His lips found hers again and she kissed him back fervently, arms looping around his shoulders once more to hold him close. Nerys felt like her entire body was on fire, every sensation she experienced in her whole being—how the ends of his bangs tickled as they brushed against her forehead, how his tongue felt against her own, how it felt to be filled by him so deeply with every one of his quickening thrusts.
The sensations all melted down into the burning that grew in her core, and she could feel herself quivering on the precipice of climax. Had his abdomen been rubbing against her clit like that the whole time? It was all she could focus on once her mind had zeroed in on it, every time their bodies met pushing her closer and closer and closer until she tipped over the edge.
She moaned into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulder blades through his clothing as she came around him, all of the tension that had been growing inside of her snapping in an instant. As she orgasmed her mind went blank, and it was the sound of her own whimpers that brought her back moments later.
Aglovale tore his mouth from hers and settled his head in the crook of her neck, his panting breaths hot against her skin. His rhythm was faltering ever so slightly, little grunts escaping him with every thrust into her—but with one final stroke he was done, groaning her name into her collarbone.
Her own fluttery aftershocks had subsided enough to where Nerys could feel him finishing inside of her, and it was at this point that she couldn’t hold back the tears that had threatened to spring from her eyes multiple times earlier, letting them flow down her cheeks silently as she held him through his climax.
When his own orgasm had subsided, Aglovale sat back—but his dazed expression quickly turned to one of shock when he saw her crying.
“Nerys, are you all right?” he asked, confusion and worry filling his tone.
“I’m fine,” she breathed, sniffling and moving her hand from his shoulder to wipe at her cheeks. “I’m more than fine. I’m just so...overwhelmed by all the emotions...”
His expression softened. Pulling away and out of her he settled onto the bed behind her, drawing her close to him. Nerys allowed herself to be moved, unable to hold back the little sigh in her throat when his arms wrapped about her tightly. One of his hands slid down the front of her dress, pressing his palm gently into the softness of her stomach, fingers splayed.
“If I’m being honest, I am still afraid,” he murmured into her ear. “But I won’t let my fears further dictate my life—or yours.”
“I’m scared too,” she said, placing her hand atop his, lacing their fingers together. “But I know in all of my being that this is what I want, and even though I’m afraid it’ll be worth the fear in the end.”
“And I want this too,” he replied, quiet for a moment before continuing. “But I don’t want to be like my father.”
“You won’t be, Aglovale. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up over what happened—”
“No, not just that. He was a stern man, even before my mother died. I don’t regret the things my father taught me, nor do I wish my upbringing had been different. But…” he let his words trail off for a moment before picking them back up. “When our son or daughter looks at me, I want them to feel the same warmth they will get from you.”
“They will,” she breathed, squeezing his hand. “I promise you, they will—because you show that love to me, and I know you’ll do nothing less for our child.”
He didn’t say anything further but wrapped his arms around her tighter, holding her as if she might slip out of his grasp at any moment. They laid like this for a few moments, Nerys taking in the ambient sounds of the wind and the birds outside the window as the golden afternoon began tipping towards evening.
“We should probably clean ourselves up,” she said after a minute, stretching her legs a bit and wincing at the stiffness.
“More than likely,” he replied, sleepiness seeping into the edges of his words, but he peeled himself off of her and pushed up off the bed regardless.
“I’ll go draw the bath so Tor doesn’t have to see all of this,” she chuckled as she began to undress, grabbing a dressing robe from her wardrobe. “What do you suppose he told the diplomats when you disappeared...?”
“I’m sure he figured out something clever,” Aglovale said, stretching. “He always does.”
She let out another small laugh, pulling the robe on as she crossed the room towards him. Placing a hand on the back of his neck she pulled him down for a kiss, lingering for just a moment before their lips separated.
“I’ll meet you in the bath soon, my love.”
“Will you be fine with bathwater that isn’t the temperature of the surface of the sun?” he asked, giving her a smug look.
“I’ll manage,” she said before giving him a wink. “Besides, after that performance of yours I could use some cooling down.”