I bit my lip as my lady-in-waiting brushed my long, fair hair. The blonde curls bounced as she pulled away, leaving them shiny and beautiful.

"You have quite beautiful hair, my Lady." She murmured, obviously enjoying brushing my hair out. I smiled at her through the mirror; she was quite a sweet person. I would be sure to mention her to my father, maybe have her come back to my hometown with me when we returned. My father owed me for selling me to His Majesty for the night, as a harlot.

"Thank you, I am most gratified." I answered; I stared at my pale, petite features in the mirror. Soon, I would no longer be as innocent as I appeared to be.

I saw a tear shine in one of my deep brown eyes. I sniffed softly, and wiped it away.

"Oh, please, my Lady! Don't cry!" the lady-in-waiting gasped, putting her hands on my shoulders. "I'm sure His Majesty will be quite pleased with you, if it isn't too bold to say."

"No, it is not too bold." I murmured, excusing her outburst. I stood without a word after that. "Thank you, for helping me."

"Of course, my Lady." The lady-in-waiting said, blushing. She dipped into a low curtsy, before grabbing a candle, lighting it, and leading me down the corridors to the King's chambers.

The lady-in-waiting, whose name was Amelia, lightly knocked on the door, before curtsying and turning to leave.

"Enter." A voice mumbled from inside the chambers. I sucked in a breath, adjusted my robes, and entered with soft steps.

I looked around the room, there were several doors about the walls, and a large, fur-covered bed set dead in the middle. The candle light was dim, and it would seem to be romantic.

I glanced behind me nervously; I was worried about Queen Catherine, though I knew she would not enter here without permission. When I looked back, he was standing there. He was staring at me with his intense, shockingly blue eyes.

"Good evening, Lady Guinevere." He purred. He was shirtless, I blushed at how his muscles flexed when he moved. I bit my lip as he held out his hand, and slowly walked forward to take it.

"You seem nervous…" he observed, his voice was still silky as he began to circle me. "Why is this?"

"I am not nervous, my Lord." I disagreed gently. "Just…" I searched for the right word. "Anxious."

Henry chuckled low in his throat as he stopped circling me; he was standing directly behind me. "Mm, as am I." he murmured in my ear, his breath against my bare neck made me shiver.

I closed my eyes to stop myself from shaking, but I gasped softly as he slowly traced kisses down my neck and shoulder. He pushed my blonde hair back to get a better angle at my skin. He moved one of his hands up my spine, making me shiver again.

He chuckled again at my reactions, before roughly pulling me against his body. His hands were on my waist, but they soon snaked up around my stomach, almost touching my breasts.

I gasped again as he nipped my neck suddenly, earning yet another maddening chuckle. He moved his hands upward still, untying the one string holding my night gown together. He slowly drew the string out, before it completely unclasped. He turned me around, before shoving the thin fabric off of my shoulders; it fell, gathering at my feet. I was suddenly very cold. I blushed madly as he stared at my naked body; I peeked up to meet his intense eyes, but I couldn't read his expression.

He slowly smiled, reaching for me again.

He grasped my hips in an extremely forward manner, pressing his partially-clothed body up against my completely-naked one. I could feel him becoming aroused and blushed once again.

I was looking away from him in embarrassment, before he roughly grabbed my chin, forcing my lips up to his in a fiery kiss. He bit my lower lip, causing me to gasp and allow entrance for his tongue. My hands were on his bare chest as he kissed me, I yielded to his every move, so as not to offend him. He seemed to enjoy being dominant.

Henry moved his hands up and down my naked curves; I noticed that he was slowly pushing me backwards towards the bed. I was becoming even more nervous as we inched to the bed, and he pushed me down into a sitting position, all without breaking the kiss.

He broke it finally when he began to crawl on top of me. I looked up at him innocently as I slowly laid back on the bed. He was pressed against me still, though his full weight was kept off of me.

He smiled at me slyly as he kissed my lips once, then my chin, then my neck, between my breasts, my belly button, all the way down to right before my womanhood. I was blushing madly, though I was beginning to enjoy the sensations.

Henry traced circles on my thighs as he inched closer and closer to my most sacred area. I moaned softly as he finally touched me there. It was a soft, chaste kiss right on an extremely sensitive area. He raised his eyes to mine and he slowly began to suckle and lick at a slow, maddening pace. I had never felt these sensations before, I had only heard of them in whispers from the maids at my home.

I squirmed under his grip, rolling my hips unconsciously against his mouth. Vibrations were sent over my womanhood when Henry chuckled again at my virgin reactions.

His pace became faster as my sounds of pleasure climbed in volume. I felt pressure building in my lower areas, and I bit my lip hard to keep myself from screaming as I climaxed. It came out as a high-pitched moan.

Henry let me recover from the aftershock, before crawling up my body again. My eyes had tiny black spots in front of them, I was dazed.

Henry slowly began to kiss me again, pulling me back up into a sitting position. I saw the strain in his pants, and knew that it was time for the actual intercourse to happen. I swallowed hard as I realized his intentions. I looked up at him as I slowly slipped his pants off, revealing his manhood in all it's glory. I bit my lip again as he pushed me further up on the bed.

He sighed as the strain was relieved, and his eyes filled with lust again as he took in my naked form, flushed from the shock of my climax. I was out of breath, and it didn't help that he ravaged my lips once more. He slowly took his position at my entrance, fondling my breasts as he did so.

I tensed; waiting for the pain that I was sure would be great. He forcefully pushed into me, and I cried out in pain. He seemed not to hear it as he continued to shove himself into me at a faster pace than I was ready for. He groaned in effort and ecstasy as I gasped in horror at the pain of my purity being ripped away.

Soon, however, my cries of pain transformed into moans of pleasure. Henry grasped my hips as he started thrusting faster, and harder. He started to hit one, special spot that almost paralyzed me with pleasure.

I cried out loudly in ecstasy, my hips responding at their own accord. They lifted slightly in the air, giving him a better angle. He hissed as I did so, obviously enjoying the new sensation.

I felt him tense up inside me, as I felt the familiar pressure building again. I came to my climax right before he did, my contractions sending him over the edge in no time.

Henry groaned as he collapsed on top of me, and then rolled over. He gave me one, last lustful look, before falling into a deep sleep, sweat dripping off of him.

I inspected my sacred area, and gasped softly as I spotted blood on the sheet along with my own wetness. I bit my lip, but decided that it was a natural reaction to experiencing intercourse for the first time.

I slowly allowed myself to fall asleep, my mind drifting off slowly.

I woke up early the next morning, around four.

I opened my eyes groggily as I realized where I was. I sat up slowly, not wanting to wake the king from his slumber.

I quickly got up, grabbed my night gown, threw it on, and rushed out of the room.

For I knew, this meant nothing. He wouldn't wake up and call me his love, kiss me tenderly, or even hold me. He would wake and tell me to leave.

My mother had taught me well.

A king can have whomever he chooses visit his bed, as many times as he wishes. It was less than honorable to become a concubine to the king, but it could prove to be beneficial to the family.

I knew I probably would be called again, play the game once, twice, even twenty times more. But each time, I would have to remember that it meant nothing.

I wasn't one of those silly girls who thought sex was love. It wasn't, not all the time.

I would go.

I would give in.

I would let him have his way with me as many times as he chose.

As I said, my mother had taught me well.

Sex is not love.

And a baby is not a promise.

So? How was it? I found a new obsession in the Tudors, and I was so interested that I decided to write up a little one-shot smut with an OC concubine. I would think he had many, he's Henry the Eighth! This would be set before Mary and Anne Boleyn come into the picture, when Henry was still interested in Catherine, though she is unable to give him a son. Psshhtt. What's so great about sons anyway? And it's his fault! We don't have the Y chromosome, buddy. It's up to you!

I very much enjoyed writing this, and I hope you liked reading it! Hit me up with a review! I'd greatly appreciate hearing your thoughts!

jess