Destined Path

Chapter Eight: Wedding Night

Onyxia PoV

I sat by the bed, nervously. Despite my knowledge of such natural, sexual acts and my glimpsed experiences, I felt unsure about losing my virginity to someone I only met a few weeks ago and had only heard about before then.

Sabe and my other maids had freed my hair that now hung around me in its odd crinkled state of paleness. I wish I had my mother's beautiful curls that would have been nice. My face had been cleaned of any make up I had worn to my wedding, stating I should come as natural as I could to my now husband. They had also had me remove any piercings that weren't in my ears. Saying that he'd like it better for me to stay that way. More elegant. More queenly. The stone floor was freezing my bare feet; I moved to shuffle on the rug until they regained heat. My dress shimmered in the dull candle light of the audience room at least that would be familiar. It's in my tradition to have at least sixteen witnesses to observe the first time. The fabric of my gown was the slightest shade of pink, decorated greatly by tiny silver beads that won over the barely noticeable colour. It was strapless and clung to my body straightly; a long slit in the left side bared my leg from high thigh down past my toes. They'd underestimated my briskness, I imagined. The golden ring upon my finger now felt heavy, as if its jewels weighted it down.

My head jolted up as someone entered the room, Kyarah strolled in, smirking at me. I was by myself, no one else was in the room yet but soon it would be filled. I just stared at her, wondering what she was doing here. Her golden locks bounced around her with her every, slow step. She wore a dress made out of pink lace so sheer it was transparent enough to see her naked body completely. From her light during at the apex of her thighs to the cherry tips of her small, almost flat breasts. She looked like a type of nymph. Belonging more in fantasy than actual life.

She smiled at me, "Don't look to sad, malo golubica." I looked away at her cooing tone, as she continued to speak to me like a child. "He'll think of me too much to notice that it's you under him. You don't have to worry your sweet soul." I frowned, I didn't know what a 'soul' was, but then again I didn't know what a 'malo golubica' was ether. She strolled to the door where Alexan was being prepared, "I'll warm him up for you, slatko dijete." She winked at me before walking in the other room. I blinked back angry tears. What the fuck was a 'slatko dijete' now?

I stormed to sink on the large bed, the thin curtain was set like a wall around it, and candles glittered everywhere they could inside. So they could get a good view via silhouette, I realized sourly. I head soft banging noises coming from next door, I winced. I hoped he at least bathed a bit before he came to use me. My skin crawled at the idea that he'd still have her on him when he touched me, entered me. It made me feel uncomfortable, insignificant. He didn't even care that it was my wedding night, my first time, that he so readily took her before coming to me. What if I got sick because of her? What if it hurts too much? What if I can't keep quite? Like mother told me to. Be as quiet as you can, it's not good to make too much noise. My breath began to quicken, I jumped up as the doors opened. I stood rigidly still as the room began to fill with people, I couldn't see any of their faces but I knew who some of them were. Luckily, I didn't see any one from my family but my father.

I turned my back, not wanting to look at them, any of them. The former king stomped his way to a plush seat placed to view the centre of the bed, so he could see everything. I wiped nervous hands on the soft fabric of my gown. I heard the soft hiss of a door opening, I closed my eyes as I listened to those quiet footsteps clap gently on the hard ground with every barefooted step. To my surprise there was no obnoxious mocking, or cheering or a sadistic effort at giving advice. It was silent. I opened my eyes to see the curtains around me move as he parted them, we'd be nothing but shadows to them now. I almost jumped as a warm hand moved my long hair to clump over one shoulder; I lifted a hand to hold it up. His hand travelled down to clutch the hand of my dangling arm as his mouth came to rest on my neck. Spreading his warmth as his hand slid up my arm and his mouth moved along to my shoulder. He was already naked, but the observation didn't surprise me. Why get dressed after you already undressed for someone else? I stood, immobile, simply breathing. As I continued to hold up my hair for him, he ran one hand along my back and up again to curve around one covered breast whilst the other found the split in my gown and cupped his roughened hand on my sex. His fingers pressing lightly down until I made a silent gasp. His hands moved to start unlacing the back; his fast moving fingers saw the garment fall easily from my body. I folded my arms across my breasts, my nipples hardening at the sudden rush of cold air. I stepped out of the fallen pool of fabric; I wished he had taken more time to notice it.