Author's Note:
A little something for MissAmyLovett, who wanted to see Victor and Victoria's first time. Since my very first ever fanfiction was a joke, this one's for real. Just a little drabble, really, but I hope it rings true and is fun to read! I don't own these characters, but I sure do feel like I know them pretty well. Feedback welcome!
Wedding Night: Take Two
After the vaudeville silliness that had been his wedding night, Victor resolved not to worry so much over the particulars of his husbandly duties. He and Victoria were together, they loved one another, they kissed and touched affectionately more with each passing day. So he figured nature would take its course sooner rather than later. He found he was hoping for sooner. He was certainly growing bolder as time went on.
As far as Victoria was concerned, their pace was fine. With every touch and encounter they had as their honeymoon wore on, the closer they grew, the more she developed an idea of what the act might consist of. She was far from shocked. Nor was she frightened. In fact, she was curious. Excited.
The fourth night of their honeymoon in the Everglot manor house began just like the other three. Victor and Victoria curled up together on the large horsehair sofa in the parlor, bolstered with pillows. A fire was lit, the servant dismissed. Just the two of them. They hadn't bothered to light a lamp tonight. The firelight was enough. Victor realized they hadn't brought a book with them either, for the first time.
Victoria felt that tonight was different, somehow. The air between them was charged, expectant. Though she'd never say it out loud, she was eagerly anticipating whatever would happen.
Victor felt as if every nerve he had was on high alert. Victoria was so close, so warm, so pretty in the flickering light from the fire. He slid an arm around her waist.
Victoria moved closer to him, and put her arms around his thin frame. He was slight, but he was strong, she'd found. She liked the solidity of his arms around her. Expectant, following the script they'd written together over the past three nights, she tilted up her face for a kiss.
Happily, Victor obliged. Kissing her was wonderful. He kept his eyes slightly open as their lips met, over and over. It was as if there was a direct connection between his lips and his groin. He felt himself beginning to grow larger.
Victoria had her eyes closed, the better to enjoy the rush of sensations flowing through her. As she returned Victor's kisses, she let a hand stray to the back of his neck, puling him in closer. She was warm all over. The surprisingly pleasant ache she'd lately begun to feel started up between her legs, a low throb. It made her want to shift her hips.
Both of them were breathing hard when they broke their kiss. Victor, near trembling with desire, placed his hand on her breast. Even though it was a palm-full of her bodice and corset beneath, just knowing what was there beneath her clothes was enough for now.
Victoria leaned back a little to give him easier access. She reclined until she was half lying down, supported by pillows. Her feet were just barely touching the floor. Reaching out, she unbuttoned Victor's jacket, which he quickly shed.
Emboldened by Victoria's undressing him and obvious pleasure in it, Victor began to work on the buttons of her dress. Over the past couple of nights he'd grown practiced a this, so he swiftly had her bodice open. This time, he went further, gently pushing the sleeves down over her shoulders.
Victoria sat up a little to help. As she pulled her arms from her sleeves—taking special care not to hit Victor by mistake—she noticed goose pimples rising on her flesh. She didn't think they were from cold. She let her bodice drop to the floor and then settled back on her pillows again. A breath caught in her throat, excitingly so, to be half-beneath Victor with bare arms and shoulders and neck.
Victor took her in. His eyes, then his hands, roamed over her bare flesh. But then, on her upper arms, he noticed something.
Victoria, who had been enjoying waves of pleasure under his hands, noticed Victor's expression change. He was looking at her upper arms. They were still mottled with bruises, fingerprint bruises, from the night of her wedding.
Victor ran gentle fingers over the fading yellowish marks, and then looked deeply into her face. He couldn't think of a thing to say. A wave of regret, of guilt, washed over him, dampening his ardor a bit.
Victoria, seeing how sad his eyes looked, took his face in her hands and leaned up to kiss him gently on the mouth. They hugged tightly, Victoria to reassure him, Victor to comfort her.
The moment passed, and they were kissing again, rekindling their earlier spark. Victor trailed his lips down her neck and shoulders, his fingers toying with the waistband of her skirt.
Victoria let herself fall back onto her pillows again. That ache between her legs was a full delicious throb now. Her heart was fluttering as though trying to escape from her chest.
Victor loosened his tie and removed it, and then swiftly discarded his vest. Victoria ran her hands over his chest, his biceps. She looked up at him from under her eyelashes, a look that he felt way down in the pit of his stomach. He loved her so much.
Victoria was a little surprised by how forcefully Victor kissed her just then. She responded in kind. He let his full weight rest on top of her now, taking her breath away. Unlike on their wedding night, this time it was thrilling. She ran her fingertips down his back as they kissed, more messily than they ever had before.
Usually, this was about where they stopped. Both overwhelmed with feelings and unsure of what to do next. But tonight was different. Their eyes met, and, without saying a word, they were agreed.
As Victor worked at the clasp of Victoria's skirt, Victoria set about unbuttoning Victor's shirt. He'd undone her waistband and loosened the petticoat beneath, and was just pulling them down over her hips when he noticed that she'd paused.
Victoria had opened his shirt, and was looking at his bare chest for the first time. She was fascinated by the outline of muscles clear on his thin frame, by the small thatch of dark hair on his chest, by his prominent collarbone. But then she'd noticed the ugly bruise, a boot-shaped one, still visible over his breastbone.
Victor put his own hand to the mark, his own souvenir of that night in the church. It wasn't as faded as hers were, but it wasn't as tender as it had been. He didn't want to think about it.
So he smiled reassuringly and kissed her forehead before continuing with her skirts. He eased them down, Victoria shifting to help, until they too fell to the floor in a heavy heap. Now she was only in her corset, chemise, and bloomers.
When they embraced again, Victoria marveled at the way it felt to have his bare skin pressed against her own. She wanted to feel more of it. Not caring whether she was being too forward, Victoria began to unclasp the front of her corset. It was finicky work, and she was certain she could do it quicker than Victor.
Victor watched her, fascinated, aroused by her eagerness. Once the front of her corset was undone he helped her peel it off. The outline of her breasts was clear beneath the chemise. He could even see her nipples, hard and straining against the fabric.
Victoria sighed with both pleasure and relief when her corset came off. When Victor put his hands to her breasts, gently massaging them, she gasped.
Victor gasped as well. He felt a little lightheaded. Taking care not to squeeze too hard, he fondled her breasts, toying with them, enjoying their softness. He also enjoyed seeing how much Victoria appeared to be enjoying it. Slowly, hesitantly, he eased the straps of her chemise down over her shoulders.
Victoria didn't stop him. She thought she might burst, go mad, if he didn't put his hands on her bare skin soon. She shifted so that she could pull her chemise down, freeing her breasts entirely. Now she was naked to the waist.
Her breasts were just as lovely to look at as they were to touch. Victor admired them for a moment before leaning down to kiss them, gently. Victoria's fingers were running through his hair. He couldn't stand it any longer. His trousers were uncomfortably confining now. He'd risk shocking her, he decided. Though somehow he didn't think he would.
Victoria, dazed from desire and feeling a queer wetness between her thighs, watched as Victor unbuttoned the front of his trousers. She'd felt that bulge before, something hard but not unpleasant, pressing against her when they'd embraced on those other nights. And now, there it was. There he was.
Victor watched her closely for a reaction. He saw her eyes widen a little, and was oddly flattered. Unbound now, he was at full attention. He reached up under Victoria's chemise, surprised when he found an opening in her bloomers, between her legs. Gently, he began exploring a little with his fingers.
The moment his fingers brushed against her in that most intimate of places, Victoria started as though she's been hit by a bolt of lightning. Unable to help it, she bucked her hips upward and let out a low moan. Wave after wave of sensation, almost too pleasurable to bear, so much the pleasure almost turned to a kind of pain, broke over her.
Watching her respond, Victor almost finished without another touch. He was glad to know she was enjoying this, after all the trouble he'd put her to a few nights ago. Slowly, he eased himself between her thighs and bent to kiss her. Her breasts touched his bare chest, soft and warm. Her chemise was bunched up around her waist.
Victoria felt as though she was on fire. She felt extremely vulnerable, but in the best possible way. She looked up at Victor on top of her, felt his hips between her thighs, his manhood nudging at her, trying to enter her. It was novel. It was a little scary. But mostly it felt perfectly wonderful.
Victor braced himself, and then, driven by desire and instinct, pushed himself inside of Victoria. At once his mind seemed to shut off, go blank with pleasure. It wasn't like anything he'd ever known before. He was trying to be easy, gentle, slow. It was difficult to keep from thrusting fast and hard. With effort, he kept himself in check.
When Victor entered her, Victoria gasped, feeling a mix of pleasure and painful pressure. He was too big. He was going to split her in half, surely. There was no way this could possibly work. With every inch he moved, the more it felt as though he was trying to dock a yacht in a space meant for a canoe. She gripped his biceps, her fingers digging into him. Her pleasure was ebbing a little, but the feeling of him inside her wasn't altogether unpleasant. Then, deep inside of herself, she felt something like a pinch. It made her wince. She shifted her hips, her legs, trying to relieve some of the pressure.
Victor was pulled more deeply inside of her when she moved. In fact, the resistance was gone. He ventured a thrust, then another. He buried his face in Victoria's hair, never wanting this to end, but very aware it was going to be all over quite soon. The sensations were far too much, far too intense. After just one more thrust, he was finished. Pure feeling flooded through him, intense and blazing. He closed his eyes and rode the wave of pleasure until it was over, and he was left limp and shaky.
Something was happening to Victor which was not happening to her, Victoria realized. She felt a shudder go through him. He held onto her more tightly as he pushed himself into her a few times. Victoria had to bite back a cry each time. The discomfort had overridden the pleasure for her. Victor pressed his mouth against her ear and murmured her name in a low tone she'd never heard from him before. That was sweet, and it sent shivers down her neck. All of a sudden, he grunted and trembled, and then relaxed, his full weight on top of her. Their bare chests were pressed together, and Victoria could feel that they were both perspiring.
Victoria was left wondering if, after all that delicious building up, this was all there was to it. She wrapped her arms around Victor, who was breathing hard into her hair, and looked up into the shadows at the ceiling.
When Victor had recovered enough to speak, he raised his head to look down into Victoria's face. He'd been expecting to see that same dreamy look he'd noticed earlier, the same pleasure-dazed expression he was sure was on his own face. But instead, she looked almost bemused.
"Are you all right?" he asked, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. Her bun was coming undone.
"Oh yes," she replied, clear and alert. Unlike him. He felt himself growing softer, smaller, as the moments passed. Too soon, he was pulling out. He stayed between her legs, however, cuddled up to her, enjoying how soft and warm she was.
Victoria, though sore and feeling a little cheated for reasons she could not fully explain, still found warmth and pleasure in Victor's embrace. His weight was comforting, and she liked the closeness, the intimacy.
Now I see what all the fuss is about, Victor thought, running his hand lazily over Victoria's arms, her neck, her hair. Every part of this had been wonderful.
I wonder what all the fuss is about, thought Victoria at precisely the same moment, trailing her fingertips up and down Victor's arm. Most of it had been all right. Perhaps it would get better.
"That was nice," Victor murmured. Victoria pressed her lips to his cheek.
"It was," she replied.
For a long while they lay there together in the dying firelight. If nothing else, both of them felt closer and more married in that moment than they ever had up until this moment.
Eventually, it was time to collect themselves to go upstairs to bed. They didn't bring a book upstairs with them, either.
The End
