Synopsis – What @kawairinrin and I were waiting for, and damn it baby, PB did not yet give us the goods, don’t wanna wait a week lol, so taaadaaaa 😉 😉
Important – My MC is Viktoria Petit, and my King Liam is called King Istvan
Rating – 18+ NSFW (sexytimes below, under the keep reading)
Disclaimer – Characters are Pixelberry’s, not mine, this is just for fun & I don’t make any money from it. There are a couple of lines of Direct Copy from TRR Book3 Ch19
Much love – VP 💖
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Outside the magnificent Cordonian Cathedral, the bells peeled and the sun shone down onto the newlyweds. As they stepped down from the entrance the crowd went wild, clapping and cheering for their King and their new Queen. It was a fairy tale love-story that had captivated an entire nation: Istvan the second son of the former King, thrust into position when his older brother rocked the nation with his abdication, in his short reign so far had proven himself to be a just and fair King. To boot, he was devilishly handsome; Donnie Brine had previously been quoted as saying Istvan had a face that would sell a million copies, and Donnie chuckled to himself thinking
‘God knows, I could retire off the money I’ll make from the rights on these wedding photos!’
The bride was beautiful – a far cry from a former waitress, looking regal and amazing in the gown that Lady Hana had designed. The design was spectacular, the Krona lace ethereal, the cut skimmed her figure perfectly, stunning but staying classy. The detailing on the dress and the precious gems in the queen’s tiara glittered as the sunbeams caught them. Istvan’s ceremonial uniform was like something out of a movie, the crisp white fabric accented by dramatic gold fringed epaulettes contrasting again his flawless dark complexion. Donnie shouted to the beaming young couple
“King Istvan! Queen Viktoria! Look over here!”
He focused his lens and fired off a quick succession of shots of Cordonia’s new monarchs: they were going to make him a very rich man.
The young couple were so expressive and filled with emotion as they stood before the nation: holding hands, gazing into each others eyes, laughing and smiling, kissing each other. Tearing her eyes away from her new husband’s, Queen Viktoria addressed the crowd,
“Thank you all for coming. But if you’ll excuse us…”
Istvan chimed in, pulling his new wife closer to him,
“We have a reception to get to.”
The driver opened the door of the waiting carriage, as Istvan and Viktoria waved to the crowd before climbing inside the ornate vehicle. The driver climbed up to the coachman’s seat, shaking the reigns as the horses started to move off, the Royal Couple waving excitedly to the throng of well-wishers lining the avenue leading away from the Cathedral.
Once they had passed the final crowd and the carriage picked up a little speed making it’s way towards the Royal Wedding Reception, Istvan squeezed Viktoria’s hand in his, shaking his head as he stared at both of their wedding bands and the glittery polish of her ‘ring-finger manicure’,
“We did it Vik. We’re married. I’m the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife… I love you so much.”
Viktoria’s bright blue eyes danced as she grinned at him, stroking his cheek
“I love you more, husband.”
Istvan chuckled,
“Not a competition, wife.”
Viktoria quipped,
“If it was I would win, I kicked an assassin in the balls to get to the Cathedral Istvan, that’s true devotion, right…?”
Istvan laughed out loud as he caught her eye; Vik’s sense of humour was off-cuff and ridiculous – it was one of the things he loved most about her.
As their laughter dissipated, an unspoken charge between them filled the air, still looking deep into the other’s eyes, Istvan could see Viktoria chewing her lower lip, almost nervously. As he focussed on her full red lips, Istvan could feel heat rising within him. His eyes travelled from her lips down her elegant neck to her delicate collarbone before settling on her cleavage. The neckline of her beautiful gown was fairly daring, the dress hugged and accentuated his wife’s full breasts and all Istvan wanted to do right now was bury himself between them.
Viktoria was watching Istvan watching her, she always took great satisfaction in the effect that she had on him. Viktoria was heady with her desire for him, as she reached across running her fingertips over the gold fringing of his shoulders she caught his eyes, darkened with desire. Viktoria’s breathing changed as she looked at him, chest heaving with anticipation of his kiss, of his touch, of them being together finally as man and wife. Istvan pulled her dangerously close to him, the heat of his breath prickling her skin, his lips millimetres from hers as he said with his voice barely a hoarse whisper, “Kiss me Viktoria….” Viktoria’s heart leapt as she acquiesced, her hands running over Istvan’s closely-cropped hair. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as the smell of French perfume, the taste of her soft lips, the sensation of her fingertips against his scalp and the nape of his neck overwhelmed his senses. Istvan roughly massaged Viktoria’s breast with one hand as the other knotted in her thick dark curls; his lips dominating the kiss, his tongue teasing hers and taking control. Istvan broke the kiss briefly to breathlessly whisper,
“My Queen, I don’t want to wait until after the reception, I don’t think I can, I want you… I need you right now Vik…”
Vik felt her body react to his admission, she didn’t want to wait either. She pulled away from him quickly flicking the tassels holding the elegant drapes open on the windows of the carriage until the small space was private and covered in a decadent glow as the light filtered through the heavy fabric. The newlywed couple grinned at each other momentarily before Istvan tenderly pushed Viktoria back in the velvet carriage seat, covering her body with his own; his lips and teeth devouring her neck and collar bone as her fingers raked across his broad shoulders. Istvan’s hand ran over the delicate lace shoulders and sleeves of her gown, the texture of the fabric grazing both of their skin. Viktoria caught Istvan’s lips in a passionate open-mouthed kiss as he moved downwards, his tongue applying a delicious pressure as it trailed down over her throat, moving lower until he reached the low V of the gown’s neckline. His hands gripped his perfect little wife firmly, holding her ribcage as his head rolled between her breasts, alternating kisses between the mounds, his teeth gently grazing her nipples through the delicate silk and lace.
Istvan was in heaven: this was his wife. He felt so good reveling in her touch, his senses drowned in her scent, her perfume, the feeling of her soft skin writhing under his control. He figured that they had roughly another 20 minutes before they would have to pull back the drapes and smile and wave to well-wishers as the carriage would slowly wind up the drive towards the palace grounds. He momentarily toyed with the idea of stopping: was it right for their first time as a married couple to be a ‘quickie’ in a horse-drawn carriage? Or should they wait until later when they could take their time, all night long in his – no – their – bedroom…? But when he’d said he didn’t want to wait until after the reception he meant it… He felt Viktoria arch up into his touch, a soft moan escaping her smeared red lips as she palmed his hardened length through his pristine crisp white trousers: the thought was dismissed quickly from his head as his pants took over the thought process…
Istvan’s lips met Viktoria’s once more as she managed to unclip his belt, and pull down his zipper. He cursed under his breath as she gently took his erection in her dainty hand, stroking him lovingly as she nipped at her his earlobe, groaning his name. Istvan suddenly found himself fighting with a mountain of lace, netting and silk trying to find his new wife’s bottom half, they both laughed, kissing as Viktoria helped him hoist bunches of fabric around her waist, slinging it to the side, dangling across the seats. Finally Istvan was able to see Vik’s bridal lingerie. She was wearing a beautiful thong that looked like garland of white applique flowers: Istvan’s breath caught as he looked at her, it was both sweet and innocent, and sexy as hell at the same time. As he dragged the shard of fabric down over her thighs, his head dipped briefly between his wife’s legs, placing silky kisses against her core, making her fingernails dig into his shoulder as she gasped. Istvan slid back up to look in Vik’s eyes, his fingers still teasing her bare skin,
“You taste so sweet, my beautiful girl, I wish we had more time…“
Smiling at her husband, Viktoria whispered,
“Istvan we have the rest of our lives…”
Istvan had a blissful look across his face as he nodded,
“Are you ready?”
Viktoria crinkled her nose, grinning,
“Istvan, we have did this before…”
Istvan whispered between kisses,
“I know… But this… Is the first time… As husband… And wife… Is this ok? Here… I mean?”
Viktoria sighed happily, thanking her lucky stars for her sweet, thoughtful, gorgeous husband,
“It’s perfect, you’re perfect Istvan, please will you just make love to me??”
Without hesitation, Istvan guided himself into her slick heat, tantalisingly slowly, allowing his wife to become comfortable as he moved deeper. The feeling of her body squeezing tightly around his manhood made Istvan feel amazing, like he could explode at any second.
Soft little moans escaped Viktoria’s lips as her husband found a delightful pace, which combined with the motion of the carriage moving over the uneven streets, felt so good. Istvan kissed her neck and whispered in her ear as they made love: how beautiful she was, how much he adored her body, how good it felt to be inside of her, how much he loved her. His hand moved between them, gently but firmly circling and gently pinching her most sensitive parts as he continued to thrust into her.
Istvan was close to a wondrous life-affirming release and he could tell by Viktoria’s ever tightening core and the raggedness of her breath that she was too. He kissed her passionately as her hands gripped at his firm ass, her toned legs wrapped around his middle pulling him closer, deeper. Viktoria looked into his eyes as she whispered,
“Istvan I’m… Come with me baby, now?”
Istvan nodded as he felt her body begin to pulse and contract around him, squeezing his member over and over, her mouth over his, kissing him to stifle her cries of ecstasy. A few sharp thrusts coupled with the sensation of Vik’s climax sent Istvan toppling over the edge to see stars. He cursed under his breath as he collapsed on top of his still trembling wife Vik was breathing heavily as she smothered his face with a hundred kisses,
“I love you Istvan. If this is what it’s like being married to you, so far, I kinda like it…”
Istvan grinned at her and winked cheekily,
“I could say the same to you… Now we need to straighten up, but we will definitely pick this back up after the reception finishes, Mrs Rhys…”
Viktoria let out an excited squeak as she shifted in the seat, trying to pull her underwear back on under the mountain of fabric. Istvan adjusted his trousers, then ran his thumb along Viktoria’s lips straightening up her lipstick and straightening her tiara as Viktoria meticulously smoothed the many layers of her skirts to ensure they were uncompromised and pristine,
“Perfect.”
Vik leaned forward opening the drapes and securing the tiebacks, just in time for the carriage to start it’s ascent up the hill towards the palace.
The couple waved and smiled beatifically to the crowds lining the route. When they finally pulled into the entrance of the palace, and the carriage drew to a halt, the driver opened the door and Istvan climbed out, helping his bride exit gracefully behind him. Donnie was already in position to start snapping away. As the young couple waved in a dignified manner and turned to walk into the palace foyer, Maxwell sprung up behind them, getting right in between them, both drawing him a confused look, as he ran his hands down the back of both their heads, hissing,
“Little Blossom!! I thought you knew better, the back of your hair is standing up like it’s had a fright!! So, you two are welcome, the media just think I’m eccentric; your cheeky secret’s safe with me you saucy, royal devils!!”
He squeezed them both tightly as he ran off into the palace, leaving them blushing like a couple of horny teenagers rather than the reigning monarchs of Cordonia.
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End – VP 💖
