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As Aurora’s rosy rays swept over the hills and valleys Ser Heinrix had taken the night before, it awoke in him the desire to resume his nightly conquests. His bride stirred in his arms like the morning breeze stirred the leaves in the trees outside their bedchamber, and he welcomed her rousing with a chaste kiss.
“Good morning, wife, have you slept well?” he whispered into the copper flood spilling off her pillow.
“Husband,” she blushed as she stretched her arms above her head and the perky peaches budding on her chest bobbed up and down, “I’ve never slept so well, although there’s a soreness spreading from my centre as though I’ve spent the whole day in the saddle.”
“Well, you rode my pommel last night quite vigorously,” he chuckled, before sending his fingers on a hike down the slopes of her lovely form until she giggled and tucked the bedsheet up to her chin. “Perhaps a bit too vigorous…?”
“Oh, no, that was quite pleasurable,” she gushed.
“Was it?” he rumbled against her collarbone. “Because I know a balm against that ache that plagues you.”
Biting her lips, her cheeks now competed with the rising sun as to who radiated more brightly in their bedchamber. She fluttered her eyelashes as her pulse fluttered against his lips, but her hands joined him in their exploration. They trailed over the hairy planes of his manly chest and followed a well-trodden path down to his loins, where they paused, unsure of where to go next. He held still, not accustomed to the gentle touch brushing against the root rousing in his lap. The sapling of his virility quickly rose to become a sturdy tree with thick branches full of fruit ripe for the harvest.
“Husband, is this where your desire roots?” she crooned, an innocence lacing her voice that didn’t match the excursion of her fingers as they clutched the sturdiest branch of this potent tree. “Will you teach me how I might harvest the comfort residing in this virile weed?”
“Weed, beloved wife?”
“Well, is it not meant to be tugged and yanked at until I free it stem and all?”
She demonstrated her intention by shaking the throbbing limb growing in his lap as if she had partaken in many harvests before and wasn’t a novice gardener at all. Her vigorous exercise reduced him to a whimpering moan as his release approached as fast as a spring shower. Curling a fist around her eager fingers, he directed her exuberance away from his loins.
“Careful, wife, or that soothing balm will go to waste.”
After releasing his arousal, she rolled on her back and bared her moist grotto as it sat shaded under copper curls. He plunged a finger into her dew-kissed garden to prepare the bed for his seed to take root, and under his careful ministrations her patch bloomed until it was ready to receive his comfort. It took only a few thrusts, and they both cried out in ecstasy as he watered her garden in a most energetic style.
Basking in the glow of their exertion, she curled herself against his chest and raked lazy fingers through his hair. “Husband, say, is there more of this special balm since this application has not soothed yet the yearning ache residing in my centre?”
“Oh, wife,” he laughed. “We have all day to find out, and I will make the most vigorous effort to provide you with the comfort you seek.”