Perfect Bride
By- An Unknown Foreign Beauty
Chapter 3- Duties Of A Wife
How could she be a perfect bride, a perfect wife to her husband? Was it just about following rules, entertaining him in the bed and bearing sons for him? Or was it something more? Something more like love, trust, friendship, and respect- something like the relationship her parents shared. Mulan looked into his dark, commanding eyes and her heart slammed into her ribs. No, she was not ready for this yet. No, she was not. Bent on doing anything to delay him from what he meant to do to her, she returned his gaze with equal confidence. Summoning a bright, inquisitive smile upon her face, she returned her gaze to the sword in her hand and thought on a subject sure to interest him. "I've heard it said you have fought many battles for the emperor," she announced changing the subject, raising her confident eyes to look at her husband's face. "How many times you were disarmed?"
Her sudden change of topic surprised Shang. No woman dared to ask him such a question before. He lowered his gaze to look at her confident smile, and the sword she was holding with such grace. It suited her, he thought against his will. But unfortunately, it was not what he was willing to discuss with his wife tonight. "Twice." He replied with cool indifference.
"Twice!" She exclaimed. Twenty would have been a minute number, Mulan thought with a slight twinge of pride. Any woman would be proud to have this man as her husband. Any woman would be proud to bear his child …she thought unwillingly…any woman. Unfortunately, she was the one out of the league, and no angel of deliverance was going to swoop in through the window to save her from her fate tonight.
"I see." She said with a forced smile, trying hard to divert her husband's attention, wondering if he was angry with her disobedience. But his expression was so indifferent that she could hardly guess anything. So she decided to continue with her trick, "That's amazing, considering how many battles you must have fought in all these years. My father managed to disarm me too often." She added.
"What a pity." A curt reply came from him. Mulan cringed when she noticed a slight hint of annoyance in his face. She had no idea whether her lack of skill in showmanship or her desperate measures to divert the conversation was annoying him.
"Perhaps you can teach me some of your skills." she suggested a little wildly, holding the sword close to her breasts, her tension compounded tenfold by his clipped answers. "Shall we do that now?"
Shang was amazed by her courage. No wife should ask her husband to teach her men's skills. In his last few years in the emperor's army, he got a chance to train a few troops. Most of them were unwilling to learn anything. Shang was very much tempted to challenge her in a sword fight or to measure her skills, but no, the bedroom was not a place for things like this. Not when she was the woman he married only a few hours ago. He discarded the idea and walked near her. Placing his hand over hers, over the sword she was holding close to her chest, he interjected smoothly, "Women are not supposed to learn men's skills. Now I have a question." His voice sounded stern as he tried to teach his disobedient wife something about the social rules, though his heart sank when he saw the disappointment in her beautiful eyes. "Did not your family teach you about the duties of a wife? Or are you trying to avoid the next part of the marriage rituals?"
Instead of defying him again, which Shang half expected her to do, she surprised him by saying in a helpless little whisper, "But how can I please you when I don't know you properly?"
His brief spurt of annoyance at her attempts to manipulate him for the last few minutes abruptly dissolved, and as he looked at her looking miserably at the sword, he realized that he had just shattered her romantic dreams. He did not like the disappointment veiling her beautiful face. And yes, the spark of intelligence. He was really enjoying her intelligent effort to divert his attention. A part of him wanted to tell her about his dreams, the whirlwind romance he wanted when he was a teenager. As he grew, he learned that it was traditions which were the most important things to live in society. It was rules which could bring honor to a family. He must teach his wife to do the same.
Gentling his voice, he took a step towards her, extending his hand to her. "Breaking rules never brings honor, Mulan." He said, remembering the words his father used to say to his mother too often. "Traditions are what that shapes us. You can find happiness if you follow them. Just let me teach you."
It was the words that her mother used when she fought with a sword with her father or ran away to play with boys, while other girls perfected themselves as potential brides for their husbands. As a result, when every girl in her neighborhood secured a desirable husband, she ruined the honor of her family. She had no right to ruin their hopes anymore with her silly dreams.
Her knees shaking violently, Mulan returned the sword to its original place and walked over to him, trying to tell her rebellious head that the act she was about to commit was a part of her wifely duties, a part of saving her family honor. Her parents went through these rituals before. She could do this too.
Hesitantly, Mulan placed her sweaty hand in his warm palm, watching as his long, tanned fingers closed around hers, trying to find some reassurance from the man she married. And she found herself encircled in his arms, pressed against his hard, muscular length, and his parted lips touching hers, her brain abruptly went silent.
It was a kiss like none of her dreams, not romantic, not gentle. It was a kiss to introduce a maiden to the world of forbidden passions, or what she had expected. It was methodical and slow, for he knew where it would end. Mulan was confused for a moment and looked into his eyes. He only told him to follow his lead. His tongue slid across her lips, urging them to part, insisting, and the moment they did, it plunged into her mouth. Mulan tried to return his kiss with equal passion as she did not want to disappoint her husband with her naivety anymore. He had tolerated enough of her stubbornness, and she was grateful that he did that for her. She was grateful because he was so gentle with her while other husbands would beat some sense into her rebellious head. His hands glided restlessly, up and down her back, her breasts, sliding across her spine, and Mulan felt her body answering to his call against her will. With a silent moan of helpless surrender, she found herself clinging to him for support.
"Is this what a perfect bride supposed to do?" She thought as she felt her wedding dress falling away, and then the brush of his lips against her firm breast, and his hands travelling along her body, lower and lower, palms against her swollen breasts. Before she could even realize what was happening, she was lifted in a pair of strong arms, cradled, and then she was being carried to the bed and gently laid down upon cool sheets.
Closing her eyes to prepare for the next part of the marriage ritual, Mulan tried to seek refuge from reality. Cold air touched her skin and, against her will, her eyelids opened. Her husband was standing beside the bed, removing his clothing, and a tremor of alarmed admiration quaked through her. In the glow of firelight, his skin was like oiled bronze, the heavy muscles in his arms and shoulders and thighs rippling as his fingers loosened to the waistband of his pants. He was splendid, she thought, magnificent. Swallowing a knot of fear and embarrassed admiration, she swiftly turned her head away, her fingers clutching the edge of a sheet, using it to partially cover herself as he removed that last piece of concealing clothing.
The bed sank beneath his weight, and she waited, her face turned away, her eyes tightly shut, wanting him to finish this act swiftly before more cold reality returned to her.
Shang wanted to finish the act as swiftly as she did. In his mind, the sole purpose of marriage was procreation and sex was only a part of it. There was no question of love, no question of patience or other things. But his breath stopped when he looked down at her naked beauty. Unwillingly, a part of him was feeling disappointed to see her squeezing her eyes shut so that she could go through this. For some weird reason, he began to feel guilty for ruining her innocence without a proper introduction, for shattering her romantic dreams like this. Something inside him was telling him to stop now. Somewhere in his mind, he wanted to know her better, to find what she wanted, to wait until she surrendered in his arms willingly. But another part of him was telling him to finish his duty as her husband. His conscious mind was aware of the upcoming ceremony waiting for them at their family temple where the new couple was supposed to pray after consummating their marriage. His reasonable part told him not to break the age-old tradition for a girl who had her head above the clouds.
Stretching out on his side, he brushed a light kiss against her ear, and gently pushed aside the sheet. "It is time now." He whispered in her ear.
When Mulan kept her face averted, her eyes tightly closed, his fingers gently grasped her chin, turning her face toward his. In a voice filled with gentleness and encouragement, he whispered, "Open your eyes, Mulan. It will hurt only a bit."
Mulan held her breath as her skin burned with the heat of his kisses and braced herself for the upcoming event which was going to change her life forever, would mark her as a married woman. I can do this, she thought. She never feared to try new things. She could be brave enough to do this too.
Reluctantly, Mulan obeyed and found herself staring into his gentle dark eyes that held hers imprisoned while his hand slid between her thighs. "Don't be afraid," he ordered softly as he positioned himself on the top of her, ready to end her maidenhood, "It will end soon."
Reviews? Faves? Follows?
I am very much happy with your responses. I never expected so many of you reading my story. I am afraid I have ruined the story a bit after this chapter, but it is only a part of the plot. I have borrowed only a few line from a Judith Macnaught book because I admire her writings very much.
Errors are all mine. Consider them nicely.
