That First Night part 3

The morning found the new husband and wife wound and wrapped around each other deep in sleep, breathing in each other. Every inch of their skin strived to be in contact with as much of the other one's skin it was hard to tell where one person ended and another began. Persistent rays of sunshine found their way through the curtains and the lovers started to stir awake.

For a while all that was heard was deep breaths, low and soft sighs of bliss and ease. Eventually they became more self aware and knew what the warm bliss really was where they were waking up. Brandon realized he was smiling. To wake up holding this amazing woman in his arms was happiness defined. He heard form her breathing that she was awake now too. When he looked down he saw that she, too, was waking up with a smile. This pleased him no end: that part of him that held his insecurities had had time to worry that she might feel awkward.

"Mmmh...good morning Christopher..:" she nuzzled against him, not quite willing to wake up fully just yet. He let out a gentle little laugh. She was just so adorable. At the same time Marianne was not willing to let go of his warmth and scent.

"Good morning, dearest," he replied, and for a good while nothing else needed to be said. But the rays of sunshine were very persistent and the lovers eventually had to admit defeat.

Brandon nuzzled closer to Marianne's face and kissed her tenderly. "Why don't I go see if we could find some breakfast and let your maid come help you get ready?" he then suggested softly.

"I suppose we should get up," she agreed. "I haven't a notion of what time it is, and Elinor is coming in the afternoon." Marianne remembered.

Unknown to Marianne and Christopher, the servants had taken particular interest in their master and mistress. They had found it slightly peculiar that Mrs Brandon had not wanted a maid to help her undress. The earlier instructions that the couple was going share a bedroom was also a novelty. A particularly curious maid had tiptoed past the couple's bedroom some time after they had gone in and had returned to servants' quarters with a deep blush on her cheeks. There was no mistaking the sounds she had heard to mean anything but a joyous and mutual consummation of wedding vows.

The same maid came into the bedroom after the Colonel had come down and sent her up. The maid, Anna, found her new mistress already drying herself on a towel. Anna helped Marianne dress, and was then left to see to the room. Downstairs would be interested to see the sheets, no doubt. When Anna stripped the bed she saw the stains on the sheet and stared at them with wide eyes. She was still young and had not had a chance to be courted by anyone. The sound she had heard last night and the sight of blood on the sheets baffled her: surely it must have hurt if there was blood, yet what she had heard was joy. Anna shrugged off her concerns and gathered the laundry. There was work to be done and she could dream about falling in love when she retired to her own bed at night.

Breakfast was followed by a leisurely walk on the grounds. This allowed Brandon and Marianne more time alone away from prying eyes. His staff was decent sort, Brandon knew that. They were not ogling them in hopes of juicy gossip, but Brandon simply wanted to extend the exquisite sense of intimacy and privacy a little longer. Have his wife to himself alone a little while longer before the demands of family and and society would force him to share. Oh he would be the proudest of husbands when they would take part in various events. He was certain he would be the envy of many other men to have a wife who was not only beautiful but who also had a quick mind and was always amiable company to whomever she was talking to. His wife.

Their stroll was punctuated by every possible reason to touch each other. A little game of chase or hide and seek here and there, admiring the views and leaning against each other at every opportunity, holding hands when walking - all the necessities of blossoming love desperate to express itself. After some time desperate was the right word for how Marianne and Christopher started to feel. The longing they had learned and released last night had started to build up again and neither could wait to find a location where they could embrace each other without the concern of being seen by anyone.

Their opportunity presented itself in a form of the observation pavilion that Brandon's father had erected when he had first inherited the estate. The pavilion overlooked a particularly handsome view over a valley and rolling hills in the distance, but Marianne and Christopher only had eyes for each other. The open and honest manner they had learned with each other when Brandon had started courting Marianne and they had began to really know each other was still very much present when they stepped into the pavilion and turned to look at each other. There was no place for posed coyness or assumed chivalry. The longing they had for each other at every level was as good as tangible and neither wanted to deny it. Quite the opposite: now that they were finally husband and wife they could at long last embrace it.

"Oh Gods, Christopher..." she managed to mumble as she as good as threw herself at him. He was more than ready to pull her to him and by the time their lips almost crashed into each other's their breathing was heavy and their hands were already frantically fumbling around each other's bodies. Christopher felt his arousal reach a state where he would need to release his member or he would be in agony. But he also wanted Marianne feel the same heat he was feeling, for her to have every joy possible between a husband and a wife.

They stumbled in the pavilion until Marianne's back was against one of the pillars. Christopher pressed himself against her, they ground against each other with their bodies is some larger scale imitation of their mouths and tongues.

"Oh Marianne...Marianne..." he was unable to form sentences for what he wanted to tell her. How she set his heart to a rate he had not experienced before. Simply seeing her from a distance alone filled him with desire to spend all his time with her, to lay his soul bare in front of her and trust his very essence in her gentle hands.

But right now, in this moment, all he could do was to show her. His hand pulled up the hem of her dress, collecting the material up until he could reach under it, touch her thigh, run his hand up that beautiful thigh and between her legs. She was already so hot and wet that he could feel it through the material of her underwear. She whimpered at his touch and gound her mound against his hand, wanting more.

"Marianne, I want you so..." he whispered and she felt his hot breath on her neck.

"Yes Christopher, please.. I want you too..." she replied with shiver in her voice. One night together and she couldn't think anything more desirable than to be in Christopher's arms and be made love to by him. And making love to him.

Christopher somehow pulled down her underwear and she managed to release one leg from their confinement before Christopher all but crashed down onto the stone bench that ran along the side of the pavilion. As he went down, he pulled her down with him, making her straddle on his lap, facing him. The hand that had so deliciously been embedded between her things just a moment ago had to abandon her so that he could release his member from his trousers. He let out a gasp as it sprang free and Marianne instinctively took hold of it, giving it gentle strokes, much like he had guided her the night before.

"Ohh, that's heaven my love, but I want to be in you... is that alright my dearest?" he managed to pant out.

She had felt that yearning them moment they had come to the pavilion. Last night had released a whole new world of sensations to her, and she was tuned to Christopher's touch so acutely that the way he looked at her a few moments earlier, with that desire in his eyes that she knew was for her, made her want him as much as he seemed to want her.

Christopher wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her until her core was right above his head. Descending slowly onto his length was sweet torture for both. She was still a little sore from last night, but did not care, he felt how tight and hot she was. They managed to keep to a gentle pace only for a few strokes, then their shared passion took over. Marianne grabbed his shoulders for support, her knees on the bench either side of his hips, striving to move faster. He helped her movements with the hold he had around her waist, but after a while even that was not enough for them. Almost desperate for mutual release they needed this to be intense, they needed this to be frantic and even rough.

Christopher grabbed good solid hold around Marianne's waist then nudged himself forward. Marianne let out a little yelp of surprise as he landed them onto the floor still deeply connected to each other. Her surprise was so sweet they both could register the lack of elegance in such movements and they laughed and smiled, eyes never leaving each other's. With the smile still on their faces Christopher could not hold back any longer and started pushing in with increased vigor and excitement. Marianne's thighs were still around his hips and the angle felt so good she actually wrapped her ankles together behind his backside and moved with him, urging him on. Their joint panting, grunting and moaning turned into more vocal sounds of complete release when unraveled first, pulling Christopher over the edge right after her.

A few moments were then needed for both of them to catch their breath. In a bit Christopher looked up from the nook of her neck where he had been resting his head. When their eyes met, their faces lit up in radiant and open smiles. They then burst out laughing.

"Oh how I love you Mrs Brandon" Christopher then said as he started to move off her. He got on his knees then pulled her up to sit.

"And I love you Mr Brandon" she replied. She hoped life had plenty of these moments in store for them. To be wrapped in such bliss and joy together was more beautiful than she had ever been able to imagine.

Still chuckling at their own eagerness and glorious lack of decorum, they readjusted their clothing and got up to sit on the bench, Marianne sideways in Christopher's lap. He still nuzzled her neck, she brushed her fingers through his hair and leaned her face on the top of his head, breathing in his scent. He laughed once more, seemingly a bit in his toughts.

"What is it love?" she asked. He looked up at her.

"I just thought about how far we walked to get here" he then said. "Next time we'll take horses."