Hey everyone, I wanted to let you guys know that this chapter is going to have some pretty explicit sexual content in it. So if that offends you I suggest you skip this chapter. Also, I probably won't be able to update for a little while because tomorrow I'm going to have surgery, and for a few days after that I'm gonna be pretty much knocked out on pain meds so I won't be able to write. But I should recover fairly soon, and then I'll get back to writing.

Discoveries

The crowd cheered, but tears ran down Fallon's face. They laughed, but she cried. Salomon stood with Gwen and the priest. As he said his vows, she imagined that he was saying them to her. In his heart, she knew he was. They had met in the garden the past two nights. They talked, and he kissed her. He was a wonderful kisser! Neither of them had spoken much of his impending marriage, but its presence always hung in the air between them. She had hoped that something would happen. That somehow in those two days time, Lord Marke would change his mind and would send Gwen and her father away. But nothing changed. And today she had to watch the man she loved marry another woman.

She knew Salomon would never be happy with Gwen. Fallon hated the woman and not just because she was marrying the man that should be hers. She had been ordered to attend the Lady Gwen three times since she and Salomon had declared their love for each other, and Gwen had run her ragged. She ordered her to do the silliest most trivial little things, and then when Fallon finished the task, Gwen berated her for being too slow about it. Nothing Fallon could do ever made her happy. Fallon knew Salomon could not love that.

Fallon watched as Salomon leaned over and gave Gwen a chaste kiss on the lips. It was not the same type of loving, tender kiss that he often bestowed on her. Nor was it like that hot lusty kiss he had given her on the first night of there meeting. It was a kiss that was devoid of any passion, any feeling. Fallon managed a small smile through her tears. At least she would always have his passion.

As he turned away from his new wife, Salomon's eyes met hers. They spoke no words, but that look that they shared said everything. She felt tears well up in her eyes again, not only for her pain but for his. He hated this as much as she. She mouthed the words 'I love you' even though she knew he could not dare to return them in front of all these people.

She turned and began to walk away. Bragnae had agreed to do her part in serving at the wedding feast. Fallon did not think she could manage it. Especially when she was thinking about what would take place after. She could not bear to think about how Gwen would be the woman to have Salomon's children. Gwen would be the one who got to lie down beside him at night. Gwen got to grow old with him. What did Fallon get? Stolen moments of passion in the garden? She didn't even know that she would get that anymore. She didn't know what she would do if she didn't.

She went and sat down on their customary bench. She smiled sadly as she thought about how they had spent last night sitting there kissing and touching and talking. He was so wonderful to talk to. She loved everything about him. The way he grinned boyishly when he thought something was amusing. The way his fair locks fell across his forehead. The way his tender lips felt against hers, against her neck. The way his strong arms felt around her waist. The way his big hands held her to his body. The way he loved her. A tear trickled down her cheek. She brushed it away.

Then her thoughts turned once again to the upcoming night. Salomon would certainly have to fulfill his duties to his wife on her wedding night. She knew she couldn't hope for anything else, but it was hard to think about the man she loved lying in the arms of another woman. Especially when he had not even made love to her yet. She wasn't angry with him for not making love to her. She hadn't let him know that she was ready, and she wasn't even sure if she was or not. But she would give anything to be the woman he was with tonight.

Sometime later she went to her room, Bragnae was there waiting for her. She was glad. Company would do her well tonight. She might need someone to talk to.

As the music and cheers from the wedding feast drifted up to their ears, Bragnae held Fallon as she sobbed uncontrollably. She was livid with herself. She had known this would happen. Why hadn't she left? Why had she let him get so deep into her heart? She loved him so much, and yet she knew it was hopeless.

The night wore on and all Fallon could think about was what was going on in Salomon's chamber. Bragnae tried to talk to her and keep her mind on other things, but it was no use.

Finally, only a few hours before morning, with swollen eyes and a pounding headache, Fallon drifted off into a restless a sleep troubled with dreams.

Suddenly, by the grace of all that was good, she was in Salomon's arms, in his bed. She gasped at the overwhelming pleasure of the sensations he gave her. He kissed her lips and then her neck and then lower to her breasts. Fallon moaned as he captured her nipple between his teeth and gave it a sucking kiss. His mouth moved back up to hers, and he kissed her with an intensity and passion such as she had never imagined. She ran her hands down his strong back, slick with sweat. He whispered her name. "Fallon, Fallon, Fallon." Then suddenly it became more insistent. "Fallon! Fallon!" Then she was alone and was being shaken. She moaned for Salomon, pleading for him to come back to her. But he was gone.

She awoke to Bragnae's shaking. "Fallon! Fallon!" she was saying, trying to wake her from her slumber. Fallon let out a cry of loss as she realized that her passionate night with Salomon had been only a dream. It had been so real. She had felt as if he was there with her. Suddenly she looked down and blushed. The sheets of her bed were tangled between her legs, and her whole body was wet with sweat.

"Have you been her the whole time?" she asked Bragnae as she righted the sheets and pulled them up over her.

Bragnae nodded.

Fallon sighed. "Why did you wake me?"

"Because it is morning, and Lady Gwen has called for you to attend her," Bragnae replied solemnly.

Fallon fell back and groaned. "Not again! Especially not after…." She wanted to say not after Gwen had spent the night with the man that should have belonged to her, but she trailed off into a weary silence. "I cannot deal with her now."

Bragnae grabbed her arm and began to pull her off the bed. "You must, child," she persisted, "The lady has specifically requested your assistance."

"Why does she insist on making my life even more miserable?" Fallon whined as Bragnae thrust her clothes out to her, "Hasn't she done enough already?"

Bragnae grasped her roughly by the shoulders and gave her a shake. "Hush that, Fallon," she demanded fiercely, "I know you have the strength of both your parents. I have seen it in your eyes. You will get through this. I know you will. Now, away with this self-pity!"

Fallon didn't know if she should scream at the woman or thank her. But she did know that she should take her advice. But it just seemed so hard, so miserably hopeless.

Still, she lifted her chin and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. She calmly took her clothes from Bragnae and began to dress herself.

Soon, she was in Gwen's chamber. It gave her some comfort to know that she had not stayed with Salomon through the morning. It gave her comfort to think that maybe he had sent her away sometime during the night.

Rowena, the maid that Gwen had brought to Castle Dor with her, worked with Fallon to fix the lady's hair. In Fallon's opinion, the style Gwen wanted to achieve seemed far too extravagant and vulgar. It was an intricate design of knots and braids. Fallon was sure it would take hours to finish.

Gwen did not talk much throughout the process, but as they were finishing, she began to relate- more to Rowena than to Fallon- the events of the previous night.

"He was a very attentive lover, Rowena," she was saying in her all too sweet voice, "I had suspected as much. He is very handsome, and his hands are so large and strong."

Fallon felt her face flushing with anger. How dare she talk like that?! She tried to remember Bragnae's words, not to despair, and moved to go ready the lady's hot cider. She tried her best to ignore Gwen's words, but it seemed as if the other woman could not help but rub salt in her already sore wounds.

"He liked to kiss and nibble my neck," she continued with a giggle as she reached one of her delicate hands up to her slender white neck and gently touched it, "He also liked to caress my breasts. It was simply amazing."

Despite her best efforts, tears of hurt and rage sprang to Fallon's eyes and blurred her vision. Could what she was saying be true? Could Salomon have really made love to her like she was saying he had? Of course, Fallon knew he had had to do it… but she did not think he would have reveled in it as Gwen described. She was so distraught, and her vision was so hindered by her tears, that she knocked over a glass and it fell to the floor with a crash.

Gwen bounded from her chair and rushed over to where Fallon was kneeling, trying to gather the shattered shards of glass. "You clumsy, ox!" she exclaimed. And Fallon was reeled backwards by a stunning blow to her cheek. Fallon's hand immediately went to her face as she gave an indignant, angry gasp. Then she jumped to her feet and grabbed the pitcher of steaming hot cider. With a shout of rage, she flung its contents at Gwen.

Gwen screamed as the hot liquid splashed onto her stomach and chest. Fallon noted with triumph that the stain would probably never come out of that dress. "You horrid wench!" Gwen screamed. Rowena rushed over to her with a small towel and began dabbing at the ruined dress, but Gwen shoved her away. "I will speak to the king about this! You will be out of this castle by nightfall! You will regret ever crossing me. Now, get out of my sight!" Fallon contained her smirk until she was safely out the door.

She went to her room and about an hour later Bragnae stormed in in a huff. "Everyone's tongues are wagging about you being insolent with Lady Gwen!" she exclaimed, "It's said that you doused her with hot cider!"

Fallon lifted her chin stubbornly. "I did."

"Whatever were you thinking, you foolish, foolish girl?!"

Fallon stood and busied herself with brushing out her long dark hair. "I don't know what came over me," she replied calmly.

"Well, the lady is in an uproar," Bragnae continued heatedly, "And with all the fuss she is stirring up, you'll be turned out of the castle."

"If that happens," she replied, "Then I will go back to my home or maybe I will travel. I don't know what to do. But whatever happens, happens."

Bragnae glared at her angrily. "I don't know that I ever thought anyone would be as troublesome as your mother was," she growled, "But you certainly rival her." She stomped back out the door without another word, leaving Fallon sitting motionlessly in front of the mirror.

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Marke sat on his throne as he rubbed his temples. This was not good at all. He had known from the start that the young maid, Fallon, would cause more trouble than he could handle. He knew that because he knew Salomon's feelings for her. Marke had seen the look they shared at the wedding. Both of the young lovers' eyes were so filled with love and longing that he was bewildered that other people failed to see it. It painfully reminded him of how Tristan and Isolde had been. He had failed to recognize that until it was too late.

Something about Fallon tickled his memory, taking him back to the days when he first became King of Cornwall. Whenever he saw her, he couldn't place his finger on precisely what it was, but something was there. He was about to think more about it, but a knock came at his door.

"Enter," he said.

The door to his throne room opened and Bragnae walked in. Despite the fact that she was one of the maid's, Marke was close to her. She had been there ever since Isolde had came, what seemed like so long ago, and she had been a faithful employee even after Tristan's death and Isolde's disappearance.

Bragnae curtsied quickly at the door then approached him. "Milord Marke," she began, bringing her hands up in a pleading fashion, "I come here to beg for you not to be to hard on Fallon."

Marke sighed. "I expected as much when you entered, Bragnae," he said wearily, "I noticed that you had become quite attached to the girl in these past days since she came here. Tell me why I shouldn't banish her from the castle. She assaulted Lady Gwen, the woman who is going to be queen here when I pass. That is not something that should be taken lightly. I agreed to give her work here because you asked me to, Bragnae. But I cannot have troublemakers on my staff."

"Sir," she pleaded, "Please. The girl is having a hard time…." She hesitated then continued. "She is gone from her home. She has not other place to go. Please, milord. I am begging you. I will see to it that she causes no more trouble."

Marke chuckled mirthlessly. "Not cause anymore trouble? I am old, Bragnae, but I have not lost my wits yet. I have seen the way she looks at my cousin and the way he looks at her. I believe that that is the main cause of today's… excitement. How can you control her? I must send her away, Bragnae. It is for the best."

"No, milord, please!" she exclaimed as she fell to her knees before him, clutching at his boots, "You mustn't." She looked up at him with eyes shining with unshed tears. "She is much more than she seems."

Normally, Marke would have laughed. Normally. But Bragnae had just voiced the thought that Marke had been trying to force down ever since the young woman arrived. He pretended indifference. "How so?"

"Milord," she whispered shakily, "Milord, sh-she is… is the daughter of Isolde and Tristan."

Marke bounded up from his chair. "How do you know this?!" he demanded a little more harshly than he had intended. His hands and knees were shaking…. That was what had been so familiar about her… what he couldn't place.

"She told me, milord," Bragnae continued softly, "And I believe her. Don't you see it? In the way she looks? Her manner?"

Marke wearily collapsed back down into his throne. "Can it be?" he whispered. Then he recalled the girl's face. She had Isolde's eyes, Isolde's high elegant cheekbones, and Isolde's gracefully arched brows. The shape of her face was Tristan's, as was her hair, and some of her other facial features. The poised way she moved reminded him so much of Isolde that it was unbelievable. Her assured manner almost made him think that Tristan's spirit had found flesh in his daughter. He didn't know how the truth had evaded him until now.

"But if she…" he began with some hopefulness, "What of Isolde?"

Bragnae was already shaking her head. "Dead soon after childbirth, milord," she told him sadly. A tear trickled down her cheek. "Fallon was raised by foster parents. She didn't even know of her lineage until a few days before Salomon brought her here." She paused. "You know where he found her, don't you?"

Marke nodded slowly. "At the riverbank… where Tristan's body lay. She left her home searching for some information about her parents." He knew she was Tristan's. It was obvious by her looks and manner that she was the daughter of Tristan and not himself.

Bragnae nodded. "Yes, milord…. What are you going to do?"

Marke shook his head. "I don't know." He sighed. "Send her to me."

Bragnae nodded and left the room.

Almost an hour later, the door opened again. Fallon, her raven tresses hanging loose about her face, poked her head in. Marke met her dazzling emerald eyes- Isolde's eyes- and she came the rest of the way in.

"You wanted to see me, milord?" she asked timidly, now focusing her eyes on the ground. She shuffled closer to him and offered him a small curtsy.

"Yes, Fallon," he replied, "I did."

She looked at the ground and kicked at her skirts nervously. "I suppose it is about my actions this morning?"

Marke nodded. "Partly." He wasn't exactly sure how he should go about this.

"What are you going to do, milord?" Once again her eyes met his, but this time they were not timid. In the depths of those emerald orbs was strength and boldness.

"I cannot have you working on my maid staff and causing trouble," he told her, "You are no longer a maid in Castle Dor, Fallon."

She nodded and a small tear trickled down her cheek. "I thought as much, milord."

"However," he continued, "I cannot turn out the daughter of two people that I loved dearly."

She looked up at him then, startled. "Milord, how…? Who told you that… I was… I…. Bragnae?"

Marke nodded. "Bragnae."

Before he could say more, she began to pour out words nervously and hurriedly. "Milord, I asked her not to tell anyone. I didn't want you to think I was coming her expecting anything. I'm not, I swear. I don't want anything like money or titles. I just wanted information… and then a home…. Please don't be angered."

Marke gazed at her for a moment before answering. He had meant to berate her from withholding that kind of information from him. But as he looked down at her, all he angry words went out of his head. He was suddenly taken back to the past. He still felt love for both Tristan and Isolde despite everything that had happened. And now as he looked at their daughter he felt love for her too, despite the fact that she was Isolde's daughter by Tristan and not by him. "I am not angered, Fallon," he said softly, "I cared deeply for both your mother and your father, and I can see much of them in you." There was a long moment of silence. Then he said, "You will remain here at Castle Dor, no longer as a maid, but as an honored guest. I will have clothes made for you and…."

"Please, milord…." She began but then hesitated.

"What is it, Fallon?" he asked.

"If it is not too much to ask, milord… may I use the dresses of my mother's please?"

Marke was touched, and it took a moment for him to find his voice. "Of course," he answered, "Whatever suits you."

"Thank you, milord," she whispered.

He cleared his throat and continued with what he was saying. "You will now dine with the other nobles and me." A look of indecision and a mix of pain and excitement crossed her eyes, and he knew only too well what it was for. But he continued on. "And you may move your things to a better chamber if you like."

"Thank you, milord," she said again, "Is that all?"

He nodded his dismissal, but as she turned to go he stopped her. "Fallon?"

"Yes, milord?"

"What you did to Lady Gwen this morning was uncalled for," his said in a firm voice, "I do not expect to have any problems like that again."

Fallon hesitated before finally answering, "Of course not, milord."

"Good. Dismissed."

"Thank you, milord." She turned and briskly walked out of the room.

He decided to leave the subject of his cousin for another talk. He silently pondered the wonders of all that had been discovered that day.

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Salomon sat with his head in his hands on the edge of his bed. He had so much to think about. It was mind-boggling. Fallon, he had just found out, was actually the daughter of Marke's late wife, Isolde, and his champion, Tristan. He had just been married and consummated his marriage the night before. And the woman he had married was not the woman he loved. His head was swimming with thoughts.

He thought back to the morning's events. Gwen had stormed into his room, raving about some 'serving wench' who had ruined her dress. He did not have to think hard to figure out that it was Fallon. Gwen had been furious when she saw that he was more amused than upset.

He hadn't seen Fallon all day. The lost time he had looked into her eyes had been when he had just finished saying his vows the night before, and his whole soul longed for her. He needed to see her again. Soon. They had a lot to talk about. He couldn't believe she was a Princess, or at least something close to a Princess. That would certainly change some things. She would no longer have to serve. She would dine with them, with him. He wanted to go to her then, but he knew he had to wait until nightfall.

He groaned. Would Gwen demand his company this night also? It had been hard to make love to her at first, but soon he was imagining that it was Fallon he was lying with not Gwen. He found it much easier to accomplish it when he thought about being with Fallon. Still, he had not enjoyed it much at all. Especially afterwards. He had just laid there beside his new wife thinking about how he had betrayed Fallon. He wished he could change things. He wished he could be with her like she wanted him to be, but he didn't know how to make things right.

He snuck out of his room at sundown and secretively made his way to Fallon's room. He would have gone straight to the garden, but she had not known to meet him there. But when he got to her room, he found Bragnae alone.

"Bragnae," he said, "Where's Fallon?"

The old woman sighed and shook her head. "Why should I tell you?" she demanded angrily, "Future king or no, I will not let you hurt that girl anymore! You should have seen her last night. She cried for hours."

Salomon's heart ached for Fallon. He couldn't bear the thought of her crying, especially when he was the cause. "I'm sorry," he said softly, pleadingly, "But I have to see her."

Bragnae growled and muttered something under her breath before saying, "Do you know of the old trap door in the bottom of the keep?"

Salomon thought a minute and nodded. "Yes."

Bragnae sighed again. "Go through that trap door and follow the passage. She said she'd be somewhere down there. You'll find her." He was about to bolt out of the door but Bragnae stopped him. "Milord, I'm only telling you this because it is what I think she wants. If she ever gives me reason to believe that she no longer wants your attentions, I will stop telling you her whereabouts."

Salomon nodded. "I understand, Bragnae." He didn't think that would ever be a problem though. Fallon knew the depths of his feelings for her, and he knew the depths of her feelings for him. As quickly as he knew how, he made his way down to the keep.

When he got to the keep he lit a torch. Then he opened the trapdoor and peered down into the dark depths. He began walking down the dusty stone steps, and he wondered if anyone ever used the old Roman passageway anymore. The last time he had heard of it being used had been when the Irish had invaded and almost taken Castle Dor and when Fallon's father had died and her mother disappeared.

At first, Salomon wasn't sure if he was going to be able to find her. But then he saw her. She was standing with her back to him. She had put her torch in a holder on the wall and was no examining an old Roman painting. Suddenly she looked over her shoulder, and their eyes met. For a long time neither of them said anything. Finally, she spoke. "I'm surprised to see you here, Salomon. I thought your wife might want your attentions tonight." Her voice was too calm, and he knew something was wrong.

"I wanted to see you, Fallon," he told her as he walked up to her and caressed her cheek gently, "I went to your room, and Bragnae told me where you were. I needed to see you."

"Yes, well, from what I hear about last night you enjoyed yourself far more with Gwen than you ever have with me!" she said angrily as she drew her face out of his reach and turned her back on him once again.

"What?" he asked, bewildered, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Of course you don't, Salomon," she agreed sarcastically. She scoffed. "Don't lie to me. I heard all about it this morning from your wife."

Salomon groaned. "So that was what it was all about?" She huffed. He made an effort to put his arms around her, but she evaded his touch. "Honestly, Fallon!" he exclaimed, "Are you really taking her word over mine? Don't you trust me?"

That caused her to turn back around and face him. She looked somewhat abashed. So he continued, "Fallon, I would not have done that if I didn't have to. Know that if I could have somehow made her trade places with you, I would have. I thought about you the whole time."

Her face crumpled in anguish, and tears began to fall down her cheeks. He enfolded her in his arms. She cried into his chest and held on to his shoulders. She sobbed, "Not being able to have you hurts so badly, Salomon."

He tipped her chin up and kissed her lips passionately. She returned it with fervor as she cried. His tongue delved into her mouth, tasting her, savoring her. He didn't know how long it lasted, but when their lips parted, he was gasping for breath. Fallon was still gasping sobs. He held her close to him as he whispered, "I love you, Fallon. No matter what, I'll always love you. That's what matters: we love each other."

She subdued her sobs and looked up at him. He brushed his fingers across her beautiful tear stained cheek as she searched for words. When she did speak, he was speechless.

"Salomon, make love to me." Her voice was a tantalizing breathy whisper.

"What?" he whispered back.
"I want you to make love to me, Salomon," she insisted, "I need you. Please." She gripped the material of his shirt in fists and pressed herself more firmly against him. He groaned quietly at the feeling of her soft breasts pressed against his chest.

"Fallon," he breathed, "Are you sure you're ready?" He hoped she was.

"Yes, my love," she whispered, "I want you, and if I can't have you as your wife, then I will have you as your mistress. I love you, Salomon."

"You know you are much more to me than a mistress, Fallon," he told her shakily as his hands moved over her back, "I love you too. You know you are my wife in my heart." His hands stealthily moved down to her lovely round bottom. He caressed it gently.

She let out a breathy whimper, and her hands gripped his shoulders as his caresses became more firm. He kissed her neck and lightly raked his teeth down the smooth pale skin. His lips found her collar bone, and he placed hot insistent kisses there. She let out a soft moan as one of his hands moved up to cup her breast through the material of her dress. He tenderly massaged the mesmerizing handful and groaned at how aroused he was becoming.

After a few minutes, he didn't think he could stand much longer of her clothed. His fingers deftly found the laces of her dress and began untying them. So as to get the job down faster, she reached around and helped him. Soon he had the dress off and she was left in only her shift. His breathing quickened as he looked at her lovely form. Her breasts were even more perfect than he had thought. They fit perfectly in his hands. He could clearly see her small pink nipples jutting out against the fabric of her shift. While looking into her beautiful green eyes, he lightly brushed his finger across her nipple. She gasped in pleasure. He took one of them between his forefinger and thumb and gently rolled into as he panted through his open mouth. Fallon let her head roll back on her shoulders, and her eyes slid closed. Salomon then moved his fingers to her other nipple and gave it the same ministrations.

Then Salomon's fingers trailed down her stomach. They played over her flat belly and then traveled farther down to her thighs. He gently caressed her thighs for a moment as she continued to gasp and whimper. Then he withdrew his hand.

Fallon's eyes shot open, silently asking him why he had stopped at her thighs. He gave her a reassuring look. Then he took off his cloak and spread it on the hard stone floor. "Not a bed," he told her somewhat apologetically, "But it is the best I can do down here."

"It's perfect," she breathed. Then she took that opportunity to begin to undress him. Slowly- achingly slowly- she began to undo his buttons. As she slipped a button out of the cloth, she would lightly touch his chest with her delicate fingertips. Soon the shirt was totally unbuttoned, and she pushed it back off his shoulders. It fell to the floor heedlessly. He panted as she ran her hands over the quivering muscles of his chest and stomach. She circled one of his nipples with her forefinger then bent her face to lightly kiss it. He reveled in the feel of her wet tongue on his flesh. Her exploring mouth and hands moved down farther. She placed little kisses all over the hard planes of his abdomen. She tenderly licked the trail of fine blonde hair that disappeared down into his trousers. When she reached for his belt, he stayed her hands. He wanted her naked first.

He gently pulled her back up and kissed her lips again. She sighed against his mouth and leaned into him. Her hands still explored his bare torso. When he pulled away, his hands instantly went to the straps on her shoulders that held her shift up. As looked into her eyes, he slowly pulled the straps down. Her ample breasts fell free. He continued to pull the shift down. Soon it was off, and Salomon tossed it away. He leaned forward and took one of her nipples in his mouth. She whimpered his name and tangled her fingers in his sandy hair. He loved the taste of her, the feel of the small bud hardening in his mouth. He took it between his teeth and laved it with his tongue. Fallon gasped. As he assaulted her breasts, his hand was moving down to the apex between her thighs. Slowly, he dipped his finger between her folds. He groaned with pleasure at the wetness he found there.

"Salomon!" Fallon gasped when he found her small love bud.

"Relax, my love," he murmured against her breast. Reluctantly he withdrew his hands and mouth. "Here, lie down." He took her hand and gestured to where he had laid his cloak.

She nodded and he laid her down on the cloak. He took a moment to gaze at her lovely body laid out there before him. She was his. Her breasts rose and fell quickly, and she parted her thighs ever so slightly, inviting his caresses back silently. Unwillingly, he stood back up. As she watched him intently he began to take off his boots and trousers. Soon he was naked before her. He thought he should feel vulnerable with his naked arousal exposed to blatantly to her, but he wasn't. Being with Fallon felt natural, right.

He lay down on his cloak next to her. He whispered how much he loved her as they gently explored each others bodies. Salomon gasped when Fallon took his hard erection in her hands and began to stroke. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth in pleasure. Soon, as much as he hated to, he had to make her stop. He tenderly rolled her over onto her back and kneeled between her spread thighs. He kissed her neck then her breasts and down. She panted as he trailed wet opened mouth kisses over her trembling belly. He breathed her name as he moved down and tenderly licked her sex. Fallon moaned and grabbed his hair in fists. After a few moments, he kissed back up to her mouth. He kissed her and with his fingers began to lightly caress her love bud. He hoped the pleasure he gave her with his fingers would take away from the pain he would give her when he first entered her. "I love you, Fallon," he whispered. Then he thrust. She screamed and her fingernails dug into his shoulders. He whispered broken apologies as he began to move in and out of her. The feeling of her tight sheath was so incredible. He was amazed at the level of pleasure she was giving him. He only hoped he could make her feel the same way. He kissed her breasts as he panted, and soon he noticed that she relaxed and began to moan, not with pain but with pleasure. She gasped and whimpered as she held onto him tightly, and he continued to thrust into her.

Soon, he felt himself nearing release, and by he could tell by the way she contracted more quickly around him that she was too. He took her hips in his hands and thrust deep into her. She cried out his name as she climaxed, and he poured his hot seed into her. Her nails raked down both sides of his spine.

They lay there for sometime, simply holding each other in their arms. The sounds of their heavy breathing filled the air. Salomon lovingly stroked her dark hair, now damp with perspiration as he gazed down at her beautiful, serene face. They both drifted off into a peaceful and satisfied sleep.

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Wow looooong chapter! Well, I hope you guys liked it. Please review and tell me what you think. 