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Side Note - I've already published this on TEML, but I've been flicking through this and that one to figure out where my next oneshot should go, and it'll go in here, but I realised this one definatley should have been placed in here, rather than in the oneshot book. So, I thought I'd freshen it up and bit. I hope you enjoy if you haven't read it before!
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"Hmm." Mary moans against my chest. Her head slowly moved off my chest, leaving the area cold. I smiled softly at her form, bare and fresh and her, the one only I get to see, slowing my fingers' gently stroking lines up and down her arm. She makes another small noise, her eyes opening slowly. I smile into those beautiful golden orbs, running my fingers through the knotted tresses of her soft, raven hair.
I lean down, capturing her lips for what felt like the thousandth time. And if it was, then the allure never lost touch. She makes another gentle sound, absentmindedly running a few fingers through my own hair. Last night was magical. Unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I'm far from untouched and virginal, as she had been up until last night, but this was the first of so much more. I had been so willing to stop at any point, but she told me not to. Giving me her body, as well as her heart and her soul. I don't know what I did to deserve her.
"It's morning," she whispered upon my lips. I smile at her again, nodding.
"I know," I murmur, the light seeping in from the closed curtains. She makes a kittenish sound, accepting another kiss that I was so readily giving. Her lips mould onto mine like the jigsaw pieces we used to play with as children. So unlike anything I had ever experienced with anybody else. She puts all women to shame. Of that, I am certain.
I lean my body down on top of her own. So soft and porcelain and supple, virginal and pure up until only a few hours ago. My lovely Mary, my beautiful Queen, the one only I get to see. The only one she will ever see. The only one I will ever see again. It's a pleasure out of this world to know that she will never be seen by another man the way she is seen by me. She makes another noise as I kiss her again and again, slowly, lethargically, like we have all the time in the world, like nothing else matters besides us. I run my fingers down her bare sides, worshipping every nook and cranny like they were always meant to be worshipped.
For all I belittle paganism with all her sacrifices and bloodshed, I now completley understand the urge to fall down and worship the feminine form. In Mary's body alone I find myself holding everything I could ever want. In her body alone, I have no use for any Cebelle or Isis. Every inch of her was perfect, made for my hands and lips alone to worship and devour what she readily gave last night.
She is not a possession, like some would make her out to be. Owning her body and nothing else is not on my list of wants or needs, like it had been for her great Uncle and her cousin, like Tomas or that Scottish farmer boy. I do hold her body, yes, but that is because she gave herself to me willingly. She is mine, yet she is no possession. A Queen in her own right, so beautiful and fruitful and unbelievable. I am hers. And she is mine.
Mary lets out another delicate whimper as my lips skim over her womb. I press a kiss to it, gently adoring her soft, supple skin with my unworthy lips. I curse each and every time I had had another woman, and I make a silent pledge to the almighty lord that I will take no more. Only her for the rest of my life. Of that, I can live happily.
"I hope you're pregnant." I admit softly. She gasps playfully, her tone admonishing the words I let out. But, I cannot take them back, for they are true. In no other woman did I wish for her to catch my child within her womb. Not Olivia, damn sure not Natalia, nor any of the other conquests that I ruined. Now, with Mary, I want it all. Marriage, children. Not for heirs to take our countries when the time is right, but to have a living being that represents our love.
"Francis!" she gasps, leaning up on her elbows, shamelessly letting the sheets cover her breasts fall back to the bed. The time for shame and embarrassment is now gone. I smirk wolfishly at her, staring at those soft, supple, voluminous peaks that I had spent hours worshipping the night before.
"What?" I grin, cocking a brow. "It would force the wedding sooner, you know how much more my father prizes the alliance with Mary Tudor's declining health and how you've proved your worth," I smile against her lips, coming up to slide my body over hers until our noses touch. She smiles beautifully at me and my heart stops.
Mary playfully kisses at my lips. "Are you sure we're not doing this wrong?" she asks, leaning up more after I balance myself on my knees in between her thighs. A firmilar position now. What was no unknown and utterly foreign, alien, until last night is now so completley known. "After all," she pauses. "we are not wed yet." she berates, but the smile she wears tells me that she does not regret our earlier actions. I smile, picking up her body and holding it to mine. So beautiful. So precious.
"After we rule," I pause. "for a great, long while," I pause again, running my lips over the curvature of her jaw. She sighs in bliss, leaning her head back to give me better access to the previous skin of her neck. "and we leave France and Scotland to our children and grandchildren," I pause, unable to resist the temptation of kissing at the soft, sweet skin that is now decorated with purple bruises from my passionate attack. I am not unmarked. I am sure her nails decorated lines upon my back, her own kisses mark my skin. I am hers now. I always have been. I always will be. "and we meet our maker," I reluctantly pull myself from her sweet skin to look her in her beautiful eyes. "You can ask him yourself." I finish, pushing her back onto the bed, swallowing her giggles with my lips.
