Warning - this is the M rated version. Although not explicit, it is definitely spicier than the T rated one.
Prince Sherlock could not stop smiling as he watched his bride walk towards him. Although he could not see her face properly due to the veil, he knew she was feeling exactly as he was. He felt as if angels were singing as Molly drew closer. Then her hand was in his, trembling slightly with the excitement he knew she was feeling and together they faced the vicar for the marriage service. John stood beside Sherlock, while Kaitlyn stood to the left of the princess.
In the front pew sat the queen mother and John's wife, Mary. Nobody else was present and the prince was completely content with that. He had never cared for state occasions and balls where he was required to make small talk to visiting dignitaries.
As the vicar went through the marriage service, Prince Sherlock could not take his eyes off the woman he loved. He squeezed her hand reassuringly when her small hand quivered in his.
They repeated their vows after the vicar, the prince first in his deep voice, followed by the princess in her musical one.
The exchange of rings was made, Mycroft having already had the rings ready in advance. There was no engagement ring for the princess yet, but the queen mother had informed Sherlock that there were several heirloom engagement rings he could choose from stored in the family's vault.
As soon as the vicar pronounced them husband and wife, Prince Sherlock lifted the veil and pressed his lips to his new wife's. Her lips, as always, were so soft and inviting that he found himself extending the kiss well beyond what was usually the protocol. He was only brought back to reality by the vicar's polite cough, at which the queen mother said rather loudly, "It's about time my son enjoyed a decent kiss, and I am glad to see he knows how to do it properly."
As Sherlock's face reddened, the little group, including his new wife, chuckled.
Then it was time to sign the marriage register to make their union legally binding, after which the ensemble gathered around the newly married couple.
John slapped his best friend on the back. "Well you did it, my friend. I can scarce believe you've actually taken the plunge after telling me so often the folly of romantic entanglements."
"I had not yet met Molly, but she has shown me the error of my ways."
Sherlock's mother kissed her son on his cheek and said, "I am so happy for you my son. Now go and make me some grandchildren to spoil in my old age."
At that, both the prince and princess, who had been getting hugs of congratulation from the women, blushed.
Sherlock could feel his heartbeat accelerate at the thought that soon he would be in bed, making love to his wife.
The best part about having a wedding with so few people, reflected the prince a few minutes later, was that they did not need to linger. The others, save Kaitlyn, were returning to the ball.
Sherlock and Molly made their way along the garden path towards the castle. Due to the lateness of the hour there was nobody in the gardens anymore, although the terrace doors had been open earlier. The couple slipped in through the side door and made their way up a side staircase until they reached the end of the west wing, on the opposite side to where they usually traversed the corridor.
The prince opened the door to the bedchamber Molly was using to find a fire was lit casting a glow about the room, and two candles, one on each side of the bed, were also lit.
The glow from the fire meant Sherlock could clearly see the expression on his wife's face as he turned towards her.
"'We are really married, Sherlock," she said, and there was a note of rapture in her voice.
"Yes my darling, we are" he responded "and now I can make you mine as you were meant to be from the beginning of time."
He took the princess in his arms and began to kiss her, demandingly and passionately, eliciting her ardent response. He could feel the way her body responded to him, how soft she was, how yielding and it thrilled him to know that they had been given this chance at happiness.
He kissed her until it seemed as if the world spun dizzily around them, and their hearts were both pounding. His hands drew off her veil and tiara, which he laid on the dressing table chair. The prince's hands found the tiny buttons that fastened the back of her beautiful ball gown that had turned out to be her wedding gown. He worked to unfasten them, but had difficulty doing it without seeing them.
"Turn around, my love, that I may finish unfastening your gown."
The princess turned around and Sherlock finished his task, sliding the gown down her shoulders, until it lay at her waist, captured by the stiff petticoats that yet needed his attention. He drew his breath in horror when he saw the full extent of scars that crisscrossed his wife's back and felt fury at the man who had caused them. Prince Culverton would pay for what he had done, somehow. But tonight, the prince wished only to spend the night making love to his bride.
He bent his head to kiss her back gently, wishing those kisses could erase the scars. She quivered a little as he did so and he asked, "Am I hurting you, my darling?"
"N..No," she whispered. "Your lips feel so wonderful on my skin. They make me want to...feel your lips all over my body."
"I intend to kiss every inch of your perfect body," declared the prince, kissing her shoulders.
His hands moved to Molly's waist to untie the strings that held her petticoats and as they fell, along with the gown, he lifted his bride away from the layers of material.
Before trying his hand at her corset Prince Sherlock returned to lavishing his wife with kisses, moving his mouth from her lips to place soft kisses along her jawline, then down her throat. She gave a little sigh of pleasure which served to inflame him further.
Now her hands were moving, reaching to unbutton his elegant tailcoat followed by his waistcoat which he shrugged off, glad to be rid off those extra layers of material.
He bent his head lower, kissing again one shoulder, then the other, before placing kisses on the soft swell of her breasts, with the restricting garment lifted, to give the allure of creamy bosoms. She gasped, and he knew that his touch excited her, just as her body excited him.
He reached around to remove the laces of her corset, but it was impossible to do so without seeing it. "Turn around for me, darling," he instructed once again, and she did so, remaining silent as he worked for several minutes to remove the corset.
Next time her lady's maid can do it and just put her in a nightgown, he thought to himself, annoyed with the difficulty he was having. The deed finally accomplished, Molly lifted her arms and he realized the corset must be lifted upwards, which he did, throwing the restrictive garment to the floor.
She took several deep breaths, as if filling her lungs with air, then shyly turned back towards him. He would have kissed her again, but her small fingers were loosening the knot of his tie, and then the buttons of his shirt so they stood facing each other with chests bared. He kissed her ardently, savoring the taste and feel of her lips, touching her beautiful breasts once again.
Then he remembered the words of the courtesan. "There is a secret place, Sherlock. It is a place where women can find great pleasure." She had lewdly demonstrated over her clothes what she meant. He had been rather shocked and horrified by the woman's actions, and that was when he had finally sent the woman away. Now he realized he wanted to touch his wife more intimately, to discover for himself whether he could evoke a reaction of pleasure from his lovely bride.
He was about to remove her drawers when the princess said nervously, "Sherlock, I...I am shy for you to see me naked."
He had no such qualms about her seeing him that way. Indeed she had certainly glimpsed his nakedness the previous night and the proof that he desired her, but mindful of his wife's feelings he asked, "Would you prefer if we get into bed first?"
She nodded shyly.
"Then, my precious, turn from me and remove your drawers and get into the bed and I shall do likewise."
Once again, his bride followed his instructions as he too removed his remaining articles of clothing. He had a lovely glimpse of shapely derrière before she hastily slipped into the bed, and he followed her.
He could see her visibly trembling now. "Why are you trembling, my darling?" questioned the prince feeling all of a sudden a little fear that she did not want to be with him after all, even though he knew the notion was ridiculous.
She hid her head against his shoulder. "You will think me foolish and ignorant but, I do not exactly know what happens when a man and woman make love."
Prince Sherlock was incredulous. "Has nobody explained it to you? How could you possibly be so innocent at your age?"
"Ladies do not speak of these matters," she mumbled. "I know that when a woman lies with a man sometimes she...has a baby, but I do not know exactly how it happens. All I know is that it must be wonderful, because my parents were so happy together."
"My darling, my sweet!" he exclaimed. "I may lack the practical experience myself, but I do understand the mechanics of what happens, so we can learn from each other. Do you trust me?"
"Of...of course I do, Sherlock. I love you, and I know you would never do anything I did not want you to do."
"How does it feel when I touch and kiss your breasts?"
"Wonderful," she breathed.
"I am told there is nother place that is even more wonderful for a woman." His hands moved along her body then, stopping briefly to caress her breasts, then one slid down further, searching for the place Janine had spoken of. He knew he had found it when Molly suddenly gasped. He was fascinated by her reaction, and he continued to experiment, touching, teasing as she whimpered and moved her head from side to side.
Finally she cried out and convulsed against him and he felt a huge surge of desire sweep through him. It had been almost as thrilling for him as it was for her.
"Is that...is that how you make a baby?" His wife asked, when she had regained control of her breathing.
"Oh, my sweet, innocent darling," he told her, feeling very much a man and masterful, "That is just the beginning."
Then he guided her and himself into a position he instinctively knew was what was right and slowly, so as not to hurt her, joined with her. He almost cried out at the intensity of feeling it brought him, feeling the warmth of her body around him, the depth of her own passion evidenced by the relative ease in which he was able to complete the action. Then he was moving, glorying in her body, in her soft cries as they made love, and he knew this was true love, being together in the way God intended man and woman to be.
And finally he too cried out with the joy, the perfection of completion from their union. It was indescribable, the feeling of bliss he felt, and he suddenly understood why people were so consumed with their sexual needs. But he had found the one woman who completed him, the one woman who could evoke such sensations, and he was thankful, and blessed.
He slid his body off of Molly's, and she turned so they faced each other. They were both breathing hard as a result of their union, but he managed to ask, "Molly, my love, was it as wonderful for you as it was for me?"
She blushed and smiled at him. "I did not know anything in the world could be so beautiful, so perfect. Being so close with you, as close as two people can be...it was everything I could have wished for and more."
Her eyes were shining and he felt such love and devotion sweep over him that he had to press his lips once more against hers. "I love you, Molly," he told her, "always."
"Always," she repeated.
He gathered her in his arms and they slept, the deep sleep of complete and utter fulfillment.
.../.../.../.../.../.../
In the real world, Molly Holmes turned in her husband's embrace. "Love me, Sherlock. I need you."
Author's note: Much of this chapter and the words used are classic Barbara Cartland style. The way they speak to each other, Molly's complete innocence about making love, is the way the author portrays it in her novels. I know I go into a lot more detail about the intimacies than a Barbara Cartland novel, but I wanted to bring the essence of her lovely, romantic style in this chapter. If you have never read any of her novels, go out and find some. Hopefully you will discover my style in this to be very similar. If you have read her stories, tell me if you think I successfully capture the essence of her writing here.
Was the payoff worth all the angsty chapters that preceded it? I'd love to hear your thoughts!