TITLE: The Longest Day

Author: Shabbytiger

Show: Merlin

Pairing: Arthur and Gwen

Genre: Romance

Warnings: MA for adult content later...plus set after episode 3 x 10.

Disclaimer: Characters not mine, just borrowed for naughty purposes :P

Multi Chapter and Complete.

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He had slid her legs wide to aid his entry, so she now felt as wrapped about his lower body as his torso and arms were about her upper body and the roughness of his thick thighs between her legs was intoxicating, her legs raising to rub against him, the skin on her inner thighs sensitised and moist. He bit off an oath before catching her eyes with a ferocious glow that shook her, stole her train of thought. Her undergarment tore with a snap of his wrist at the seam and fell from her, revealing her dark curls to his view. She would stitch them back up she thought absently, as the removal allowed him to mingle their pubic hair with each thrust. It was ridiculously sensual the way he watched his cock disappear inside her folds.

The pain she had been warned of by the older women whom tried as best to do what her mother couldn't, was fleeting but sharp and fierce as he thrust deep. His eyes were black as she winced, then bit the supple slope of his shoulder, riding out the hurt, as pleasure replaced it in a torrent of sensation. Gwen had been scared of the first time, foolishly baulking at the idea of what was supposed to be sweet and loving, mixed with the agony that she had been told to expect. Now as her hips seemed to expand to take him in, to fit his pelvis to hers so perfectly, she thought she would faint from the sheer reality of it.

This wasn't like the tales she secretly read, the damsels being loved as bed clothes hid their modesty, and the knights averted their gaze as gentlemen should. This was raw and powerful and all consuming, his weight pinning her to the bed; his scent, all wood and perspiration and lingering smoke from his walk through the town invading her along with his cock, that filled her up, making her back ache in the best most delicious way she had known.

He did not close his eyes as he began to thrust, each move of his hips matched by his eyes that bore into hers, as invasive and hot as the smooth hard erection he teased her with. Her skin stung and sang all over, and she couldn't keep her hands from his chest, from his neck, before trailing to his hips, holding him as he found a slow languid rhythm she hadn't known existed. She was floating, but utterly present, aware of his breathing as he made noises in his throat with each forward tilt that joined them closer. She wanted to take him all in, feeling each stroke like a lick at her cleft as he angled his body higher above hers, drilling her to the bed. Colours swam, and her body reacted to every look, firing pleasure up her spine, till she felt sure she could no longer stand it. The place he had stroked with his thumb hummed as he slid inside, then retreated, rubbed by his cock in the most sinfully charged contact she had never imagined. This was how people loved each other, she thought, head dizzy as he lifted his body from hers, totally, without shame, for the joy of it, the ecstasy of it.

Bereft of his chest as he lifted, she mewled, blushing at the need she couldn't help betraying. Her hands shaped his pectoral muscles, and she marvelled at the memory of his younger self, so many years ago, before his height topped and his training carved him from rock. Now he was a man on his way to rule, and though the thought should have given her pause, it just added to the crescendo of bliss bubbling up from the well inside. He was shifting his legs up the bed, until he was kneeling, careful not to break the deep connection. His thighs were rough and the tickling at the backs of her thighs sent her on another flight of sensory overload. He loved her. The worry that flashed in his eye at her distressed sound scorched her heart, and she smiled, letting him know she was fine, words wanting loose as nerves cascaded along with the pins and needles of pleasure spiking her spine.

" Am I-" Unsure, yet suddenly terrified that this union was not as stunning for him, she carried on, the words falling in smoky tones, " I'm sorry if I am not-" He kissed the words from her mouth, swallowing them, his passion wild and hot as he thrust faster, harder, blinding her thoughts with nothing but stars.

" Guinevere," he choked, as his mouth finally freed hers, settling back, almost upright, staring down at her, his hands at her hips, gripping tight. She blinked, writhing at her centre, feeling like quick sand pulling him in. " Shut up."

Shocked, she stifled a gasp, seeing the teasing light in his eyes as he began his strokes once more, his throat twitching convulsively with each insertion.

" You are perfect. Always have been." He threw his head back, and she surged up to meet his hips, feeling her muscles tighten about him, breathless as a current began to charge in the base of her spine and snake its way higher, spreading throughout her limbs. One of his hands trailed the curve of her hip across her abdomen, and butterflies took wing to join the growing static coursing through her veins. His fingers found her breast, toyed with her taut nipple and she lifted from the bed, her legs whipping at the sheets, and she wrapped them about his waist , guided by instinct and the need to show her pleasure, her need as much as he. He reacted almost violently to the action, pausing a second to hold still, his breathing heavy and loud in the silence of the room. He met her querying glance, and she knew her face was soft, spent, delighted.

" I wanted to be tender Gwen." He sounded gruff, unlike the Arthur she knew, and panic was a rabbit in her heart, as she watched him put a hand to her hip bone, feeling his palm scrape her sizzling skin. " I tried. I need to-"

She had known she realised, feeling sacred. She had known he had held back, for fear he would hurt her. But she was wet and aching and he filled her, and as he tightened and shifted her legs about his waist, a feminine burst of pride swamped her. She was no doll, no fragile breakable thing. Raising herself up onto her elbows, her hair falling over her shoulders and concealing her breasts she lifted her face to his, and he bent to kiss her without thought. The thoughtless affection, fierce expression of desire even now, in the midst of making love, shot through to her core and she squeezed him with secret new muscles she was sure would ache for a year after. Not that it mattered.

" Love me Arthur. Please." She licked his throat as he moved back to his upright position, eyes muddy and mouth bruised and swollen. She had marked him, she realised, seeing the red marks where her lips and teeth had scored his shoulders and throat in the silvery shadows. The knowledge was deeply satisfying she thought, feeling smug. Then Arthur let his hips go, and she was shattering into a million pieces, being rebuilt and broken anew with his thunderous strokes and rapt expression thrown to the ceiling. No soft entry, or slow easing toward his goal. He simply charged at her, met by her hips that he tugged in time, her own ability to move long gone as his girth stretched and reshaped her, moulding her to him, making her his. Now the bubbling became a flood, as warmth bolted through her bones and nerve endings, shooting through her hips, spine, skull until her body was boneless and the ache inside pulsated, her legs quivering in reaction.

" Gwen I need to-you have to-" She could feel his climax coming, knowing she had to release her grip on his shaft, but hers was still going, rippling, stuttering through her inner muscles and she had no control as he tried to speak, his blue eyes wide and lips stretched as he clamped his teeth on his lower lip and then his thrust lurched ever deeper and she felt him spill inside, hot liquid, mingling with her own wetness.

Realisation broke her floating, and she blinked back tears suddenly, wondering if the moment had been ruined. Spoilt by her failure to act when he asked. Begged. He collapsed to his forearms, trapping her in a damp embrace, his perspiration cool on his skin as she kissed him, over and over, pressing her lips to his salty earthy taste. She blinked her eyes furiously, wanting this, this sweet moment of repletion to last forever, not to have to hear what he may say. His reaction to his seed flooding her. Oh Lord.

" Guinevere." The same inflection he had used so many times, but deeper now, the teasing gentle, brushing her hair from her face as he forced her to meet his eyes, still bleary from pleasure.

" Are you crying?" His expression was immediately concerned, his face paling as he examined her with worried eyes, his hands roaming her naked body, as though afraid he'd snapped bones. " What is it? Oh Gods-" He blanched, utter horror writ upon his handsome love drunk face. " You regret it? You wish-"

" Arthur. Shut up." She hiccuped the rebuke, laughing through her watery moment. He was wrapping his arms about her, pulling himself from her cleft, positioning himself on the bed and wrapping her tightly to his side, and he looked down at her face, a quick grin flashing in the grey darkness.

" So no regrets then?" He held nothing back, his heart in the question and she couldn't bear it. Spooning at his side she wrapped a leg across his, her breasts pressed at his side and chest, his arm beneath her head and hand at her waist. She placed her hand at his stomach, and wanted to purr. Perfect. They fit together so beautifully.

" No regrets." She pressed a kiss to his jaw, before tucking her head beneath it, not willing to let go yet. Not wanting him to ever leave the bed, let alone her home. Courage restored, she spoke softly. " I am sorry for, not letting you go when you asked me to." Blushing seemed redundant after sharing what they had but her face hadn't been told, and she felt the heat of it radiate at Arthur's chest and hair. His chest rumbled, and his hand smoothed a path along her hip line to curve under her behind, as if his hand belonged there. The gesture of ownership would have set her off in any other situation, but here, in bed, she cherished it, snuggling her backside further into his palm.

" Gwen for a smart woman you are adorably dumb at times." She whacked his chest playfully, but he laughed and caught her hand, kissing her fingers. " You would have needed a dozen or more horses to pull me away at that particular moment."

" That might have been difficult to arrange, let alone explain," she acknowledged, giggling into his shoulder. He laughed, and the moment was so domestic she almost believed it was real. He was staying here. This was their life.

" I am sorry." Arthur was serious now, absently stroking her backside, his fingers sending rivulets of pleasure along her skin, to mate with the afterglow of her orgasm. It thrilled her, making her squirm ever closer. He reacted by gripping her tighter, moving his leg to nestle between hers. " It was irresponsible and I am truly sorry to have put you in a position-"

" Shh." She put her fingers to his lips, their eyes meeting. " I am almost certain we have nothing to worry about." The head housekeeper of the castle was extremely careful with girls, and kept an all knowing eye on their physical welfare. She took each aside once a month and had a little chat about being careful for the next seven days. It was humiliating, but Gwen was suddenly very grateful for Miss Katharine's observant record keeping. Not that it was always heeded by some of the girls.

" Really?" Arthur was both puzzled at her comment, and relieved. He was quiet for a long moment, as he kissed the fingers he still held in his hand. Gwen hoped he was reassured, though a niggle in her heart said otherwise. " I guess that's a relief," he said finally, his chest moving with each word. " Though a child with your eyes and my charm would be no burden."

Gwen's heart split wide and deep, and tears once more pricked her eyes. Gods she was weepy mess. He was sometimes hard headed, stubborn...even arrogant. But Arthur loved with a depth that scared her and emboldened her too. He made her feel like anything was possible. Perhaps, in time, he would prove it too.

Unable to respond, she curled her hand to his, and pressed tight, sharing her warmth, aware some time later of Arthur pulling forward, lifting from the bed and panic darted through her, turning her stomach to stone at the thought of him leaving. Returning to his real life. She couldn't imagine seeing him daily, without touching him, without the world seeing this new shift in their relationship. When she felt the soft quilted throw being dragged across her, being tucked about her as he settled back down beside her, her heart undid a little more. She was never going to survive this intact she realised. She was already in pieces, and he took more each day without even knowing it.