Wow. How extremely embarassing. I've had this finished for quite a while now, and I forgot to post it :P Sorry! But hey, on the plus side, my next chapter will be posted immediately after this one, as a reward for you all because you were so patient with me as I wrote TWO chapters without updating :P

Chapter 25 -- Consummation

The reception was a great success. There was dancing and drinking and general merry-making all around. Amelia graced the guests with a few songs and the first dance was like a fairy-tale, set to a beautiful piece written just for the occasion by a few of Narnia's most renowned composers.

It was just past midnight when Peter and Amelia finally said their goodbyes and left the party. Most the the guests were still there, and probably would be until the wee hours of the morning. Some part of Peter thought he should stay for a while longer, but the rest of him was looking too forward to spending the night with his wife to wait any longer.

Peter's room had become their room. At some point during the day, Amelia's things had been moved into the bedroom; her clothes were now neatly stacked in the closet next to his, the small collection of herbs that she'd left in her room to dry were now sitting in the corner, her jewelry sitting in a finely crafted box on the dresser, her weapons hung in the corner along with his.

Peter pushed open the door to his room, holding his hand out to keep Amelia from stepping inside. She raised an eyebrow, about to argue, but he silenced her with a sweet kiss.

Amelia all but melted into a puddle. That was why she was so disappointed when he broke the kiss early. She was going to voice that disappointment, but her words turned into a shriek as Peter swept her feet out from under her and lifted her into his arms, stepping into the room with a haughty grin.

"What?" he asked innocently, "A husband must carry his wife over the threshold on their wedding night."

Amelia sighed as Peter placed her carefully down on the bed. "You could have at least warned me first," she scolded half-heartedly, obviously more amused than upset.

Peter shrugged, sitting down next to her. He began to unbutton his jacket. "You love surprises."

Amelia grinned, sitting up and swinging one leg over his thighs so that she was straddling him. She pushed his hands away from his chest and began to work at his buttons herself. "I have never once told you that I like surprises," she stated with a smirk.

"Then let me rephrase," Peter answered, his voice husky and quiet. He let his forehead rest against hers, loosening the laces on the back of her bodice. "I love to surprise you."

Amelia pushed the jacket gently off of his arms and slipped her hands up underneath the plain white shirt that he'd been wearing underneath. "What kind of sadistic enjoyment do you get out of scaring me?" she asked, giggling.

"I don't love to scare you," Peter replied, placing his hands gently on her hips. He leaned forward, as if he was going to kiss her, and then, tightening his grip with one hand and moving his other hand up to cradle the back of her head, he twisted suddenly around, pushing her over onto her back on the bed and coming to rest on top of her.

Amelia yelped in surprise and pressed one hand against her heart, feeling it's quickened pace. "You do love to scare me! You just did it again!" she accused, her voice full of mirth. She reached up and pulled his shirt off over his head.

Throwing his discarded clothing onto the floor, Peter leaned down and traced her jaw from her chin to her ear with his nose. He kissed her neck gently, smiling to himself as noise of pleasure escaped her throat without her consent. "I don't love to scare you," he insisted. "But there is this face you make, right after the surprise passes... the moment you realize that I've got you, that I'd never let you come to harm, you smile in this particular way. I've never seen anything like it." He lifted his head to see a smile spreading slowly across her lips. "That's what I love. Scaring you is just an unfortunate side effect."

Amelia pushed Peter gently away so she could sit up. She began tugging awkwardly on the laces at the back of her dress. They were loosened earlier by Peter, which only made them a tangled enough mess to make it impossible for Amelia to undo herself. "You should be a poet, love," she told him, frowning as her fingers got caught in the mess of silk ribbon.

Peter laughed and shifted his position so that he was sitting up behind her with her sitting between his legs. He kissed the bare back of her neck and pushed her hands away, deftly untying the knots. "A poet, hm? Why is that?"

"You know saying things like that is enough to make any woman swoon," she answered, knowing exactly the kind of triumphant smile that would be on Peter's face as she spoke. "Isn't that the ultimate goal of any romantic poet?"

Peter finished untying the knots and placed his hands on her waist, guiding her to her feet. "What can I say, it's a natural talent."

Amelia turned around and pulled her arms out of the sleeves, letting it fall into a pool at her feet, wearing nothing but a slip and a corset underneath. The corset laces were much easier for her to undo herself, so she reached behind herself and began to unlace them. "Or maybe you really do have a book of things to say to seduce women hidden in here somewhere..." Amelia answered, grinning.

Peter stared at her, bewildered. "I have a what?"

Amelia started laughing. "I heard once that your success with women came from a book full of wonderful things to say that would have any woman in your arms in an instant."

Peter stared at her. "I...you..." His face turned to one of chagrin. "You know that I've been with other women..." he observed quietly.

Amelia watched him, surprised. "Of course I do, love. I've known since before I met you. You had quite the reputation. It's alright," she assured him, leaning over and planting a chaste kiss on his lips.

Peter's eyes met hers. "It is?" he asked, incredulous.

Amelia finished with the last lace on her corset and let it drop, along with her slip, to the floor. Wearing nothing but her rings, she pushed Peter gently back onto the bed, straddling his hips and leaning down to rest her head on his chest. "It is," she answered.

Peter wrapped his arms around her waist, relieved. "None of them could ever hope to compare to you."

Amelia laughed, looking up at him. "I know. Otherwise you'd be married to one of them instead of me. And then where would we be?" she asked, her tone turning warm and quiet as she tugged on the top of his pants.

Peter grinned and rolled over so that he was on top of her. He stripped off his remaining clothes and trailed his hands up her stomach. "We'd be exactly where we are now. You would just have to have come in through the window, that's all."

Amelia let out a burst of laughter and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. "Peter Pevensie, that's a horrible thing to say."

"Nothing in the world would stop me from loving you," he breathed in reply, trailing kisses down her collarbone until he reached her chest.

Amelia arched into him, gasping. The conversation quickly ended as she forgot everything that wasn't his touch or his voice. Raking her fingernails up his back, she wrapped her legs around his waist and ground her hips against his, eliciting a low groan from him.

Peter explored every inch of her body meticulously. She was completely at his mercy, because every time she tried to move, he brushed his fingers against her core, which brought her down onto her back with a sharp gasp. He brought her over the edge once already before kissing his way slowly back up her stomach. Pleased with himself, he watched her chest rising and falling with quickened breath as she tried to recover.

Amelia had long lost control of her body. She went rigid as Peter finally slid into her and she felt herself rising over the peak for a second time, barely having finished with the first. She fisted her fingers in his hair, gasping desperately. "Peter, oh, Peter, I...." she mumbled, her words mostly slurred.

Peter realized what was happening almost instantly as she clamped down around him. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, groaning as she came for a second time. He wasn't even moving, but the grinding of her hips was nearly enough to bring him down with her. Wanting more, Peter started to move his hips slowly.

Crying out, Amelia locked her legs around his. "Wait," she ordered, breathing heavily.

Peter nuzzled her neck, kissing her skin fervently. "But I need you so badly..."

Carefully, Amelia pushed on Peter's shoulder, guiding him over onto his back. She moved with him, so she ended up straddling him. She placed her hands on his chest, shutting her eyes and waiting for a long moment to recover. She opened her eyes and traced the lines of his chest and stomach, paying particular attention to the long jagged scar across the abdomen.

Peter watched her with hazy eyes. He's never seen anything more beautiful than this angel, her bare skin shining in the moonlight. A small smile played across her lips as she caught him staring with an obviously awed expression on his face.

Amelia slid her hands up his torso, to his shoulders, and let her body fall forward. "Don't move," she whispered, shifting her hips slowly from side to side.

Peter suddenly found it impossible to form words. She moved so slowly, subjecting him to an exquisite torture, the likes of which he could never have imagined. He could hear her breathing in his ear. She gripped his waist with one hand and he could feel her fingernails digging into the skin over his ribs as her breath quickened.

Amelia released her hold on his shoulder with her hand and trailed her palm down his torso, feeling his muscles tense and relax with her movements. She began to move deliberately, searching for the things that made Peter tense his muscles. As she started to do those things more often, Peter's body started to move of its own accord. She kissed him heatedly, feeling the pressure building inside her again.

Peter couldn't breathe. He tore his mouth from hers, gulping down the air as his hips lifted from the mattress, pushing himself deeper inside of her and pushing him over the edge. He wrapped his arms around Amelia's waist and held her against him.

A sudden, sharp charge of sensation bloomed in Amelia's shoulder. It spread through her entire body, bringing her crashing down with Peter. She pressed her face against his shoulder, whimpering as the reverberations tore through her.

Exhausted, Peter pulled himself gingerly out of Amelia, still holding her tight against him. He shut his eyes, perfectly content with lying there in silence. When Amelia looked up at him, a dopey smile on her face, he couldn't help but laugh; her eyes weren't even focusing properly.

It was quiet for a long time. Both of them had returned to breathing normally and had regained their ability to think. It was Peter who broke the silence.

"I've never felt so satisfied in all my life," he said, sighing contentedly.

Amelia giggled, lifting her head so she could look at him. "I'm sure I know exactly what you mean," she answered, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Peter laughed. "That's not what I meant. I had never realized what I was missing before I met you. How much better life could be."

Amelia's smile turned soft and loving, and she traced the edge of his jaw with her fingers. "I know," she whispered. "I'm still sure I know exactly what you mean."

"I thought I had everything I could ever want at my coronation," Peter continued, his smile turning mischievous. "But I had no idea I was missing out on so much in the bedroom!"

Amelia laughed, hitting him playfully on the arm, and rolled over so she was lying on her back next to him, her head on his shoulder. It was the first time he could see the mark clearly.

Peter cringed. "I'm sorry."

Amelia blinked at him, confused. "For what?"

"That," Peter answered, touching the bruised skin gently.

Amelia jerked away from the touch, and strained her neck, trying to see it. "What, what is it? I can't see it."

Peter couldn't help but laugh at the odd angle of her head. "I may have... bit you," he said sheepishly, flushing.

Amelia grinned. "It doesn't hurt," she promised, knowing that's what he'd be worried about.

Peter reached out to touch it gingerly, but Amelia swatted away his hand.

"Don't touch it, that does hurt!" she scolded, laughing. Sher let her eyes wander over his bare torso, noticing a set of marks that she's left on him. "Look. We're even. See what I did to you?" she asked, blushing and trailing her fingers over the angry red half-moon marks on his side, left from her fingernails.

Peter just grinned in reply, rolling over onto his side and pulling her up against his chest.

Amelia sighed in contentment, reveling in the way they fit together; the way his hand fit perfectly against the curve of her back, the way her head fit snugly into the crook of his neck. She wrapped one arm around his waist, walking her fingertips up and down his back with a feather light touch. Her other hand was pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. She giggled at the vibrations of his chest from his hum of pleasure.

Peter yawned and pressed his lips to Amelia's forehead, shutting his eyes. "Sweet dreams, angel."

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So what do you think? I like to think that my lemons are improving... but of course, constructive criticism is welcome :) I'm ALWAYS looking to improve some more!