𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑 || 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝐼𝑉

~The Death of Kings~

The Tower of London....

Their bodies moved together on the bed with the grace of water, a gentle dance known only to them, twisting their limbs lovingly around one another, hands tangled in hair or clasped in love. Each time their lips met, they were sent deeper into their world of sensual ecstasy, oblivious to all around but each other's touch.

Their clothes lay strewn around the chamber and the bed curtains were pulled hastily shut, encasing the Duke and Duchess in a world of their own.

Catherine sat in Richard's lap, slowly rocking her hips against his while their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed in bliss. His fingers danced across the soft skin of her back and hers clasped the soft curls of his hair, tugging on them each time the white flash of pleasure blinded her to all the world. While she rode him, he also thrust his hips upwards, unable to resist with the beautiful sight she presented above him and her warmth reducing him to soft moans.

She could take him apart and he could do the same, with gentle, fleeting kisses he brushed across her neck and chest until she moaned a quiet plea for him to do more. They were each putty in the other's hands and relished their sweet power.

"Richard...." Catherine cried when he spilled inside her, slipping his hand between their bodies to help her follow. She needed little coaxing and cried out a second time when liquid fire shot between her legs, her body convulsing, her mind swimming. Richard threw his head back against the pillows and she slid from his lap, staring dreamily up at the canopy of their bed while one of her lover's hands found hers.

"If we do not have another child soon it shan't be our fault" He gasped, clearly out of breath with his chest rising and falling at an almost alarming rate. His remark made Catherine smile and she pushed her hair away from her face, letting the fingers of her free hand dance across the flat expanse of her stomach, remembering what it had felt like when it was rounded.

The small kicks, the little hands pressing against her, the hours she had spent cradling her swelled belly with Duchess Cecily by her side reciting prayer after prayer. And then, the joy when she'd finally been able to hold her son in her arms. She sighed, snuggling contently into Richard's side with the wish they had conceived that night.

"It would be my greatest joy to give you another son" She said and a smile tugged at his lips; breaths slowly evening to normal.
"Or a daughter" He replied, twisting locks of her soft hair absentmindedly around his fingers "I think Henry would like a little sister"
"I think Henry would like anything!"

He chuckled at that, nodding his agreement, their Henry was a merry little child and they believed that sister or brother, he would be content and, of course, their greatest protecter, apart from perhaps Roland who still resided at Fotheringhay! They would return to him soon. Catherine sighed again, drawing delicate patterns over Richard's chest with one hand while she made to draw up the covers around them but as soon as she did, his fingers gently curled around her wrist.