Morning Glory-Francis (Reign)

Chapter Sixty-Two

A/N: Procede with caution

Even though everyone knew we had consummated our marriage, it was quite an event for Francis and I to leave the party and retire to our chambers. During the day, as we had celebrated, my belongings had been moved to Francis's suite where the two of us would live together.

I let Francis lead the way to his room, gently pulling my hand down the hallway.

The room was silent, once the door closed gently shut behind me. It was starkly different from the constant buzz that had seemed to surround me since I woke up this morning. Francis and I fell into step next to each other, as we walked side by side, slowly towards the fireplace. A small fire, only embers really, smoldered.

"I hope you will forgive our rather lackluster encounter earlier today," Francis's voice dropped against my ear. A long shaky breath exited my nose as my head tilted imperceptibly to the side. "And allow me to make up for it now." My head tipped back even further as Francis pressed a hard kiss to the soft spot right beneath the curve of my jaw bone. I reached out a hand and grabbed onto Francis's shirt, the one I had embroidered, pulling myself closer to him.

It seemed like everything in my body slackened when Francis's teeth grazed over my skin as he pulled away from my neck. My left arm snaked up around his neck, as his two hands met at the base of my spine, wrapped around my waist to begin unlacing my dress. I began separating the clasps and loosening the ties that held Francis's shirt shut with the hand that had been clutching at the fabric a few seconds earlier.

Francis sucked in a breath, one I could feel against my collarbones, as my hand slipped underneath his now unfastened shirt and against his bare chest. His efforts seemed to double, from a leisurely pull, to an anxious yank, at my own dress.

I whispered his name as my hand slip up his chest to his chin, guiding him to kiss me on the mouth. Finally, the back of my dress fell open, and Francis turned us around towards the bed, as we continued to kiss, his tongue occasionally pressing over my bottom lip.

As the two of us clumsily walked, I shrugged my sleeves out of my gown, and it fell to the floor, leaving me in my corset and petticoat skirt. At the same time, Francis peeled his own jacket off his shoulders, discarding it on the floor, before grabbing me by the hips and lifting me up to sit on the edge of the bed.

Scooting backwards, I pulled Francis onto the bed with me, and in our scramble backwards I ended up sitting straddled over his hips as he leaned against the headboard. My breath was heavy, and my hands continued to run up and down Francis's neck and chest, as I tried to steady myself. Somewhere in the shuffle, his shirt had been lost, and my corset was loose, though it still clung to my chest.

"You're so beautiful." Francis breathed. I could smell a hint of wine on his breath. I suppose we were both a little tipsy. "And all mine." His tone shifted deeper, as his hands smoothed up my legs, pushing my skirt up more. "My wife." Francis growled against my neck.

A shuddering sigh slipped through my lips as I leaned my head down on Francis's shoulder and rocked my hips into his as his hands caressed the burning skin under my dress. Pursing my lips, I pressed a few kisses on Francis's shoulder, trailing them up towards his ear. Goosebumps prickled up around my waist as my petticoat was untied and pulled off over my head, ruffling my hair and forcing me to sit up straight. A second later, my corset had been pulled from my chest as well, and my back pressed into the mattress.

My head sank back into the soft down pillows, as Francis pressed his face against my bare chest. I trailed my hands up his back, smiling at the shiver that followed them, before nesting my fingers in his curly blond hair.

"Did you enjoy your wedding?" Francis asked, pulling his face back, so the tip of his nose ever so gently traced the contour of my breast.

"Yes." A sigh. Then a slight yelp. My head whipped up, off the pillows, to see Francis had taken one of my breasts in his mouth. My fingers tightened around his hair.

"Shh," he tried to sooth me, but the rush of air out of his mouth, sent a series of violent trembles through my chest, and up my throat which emerged as an unrecognizable set of sounds as my head fell back against the pillows. "Relax, Morning Glory." Francis whispered, still into my chest, but this time, I kept my mouth shut, quieting my noises to muted hums.

As Francis moved his attentions to the other side of my chest, his left hand crawled dreadfully slowly up my chest to rest against my throat. A few of his fingers reached out to probe a soft spot on the side of my neck.

"I like those sounds you make when I touch you." A noise closer to a cry jumped from my throat. I swore I felt his teeth graze my nipple, followed by a quick swipe of his tongue.

"Francis," I pulled harder on his hair, forcing his face up to level with mine. Hastily, I pulled him down for a heated kiss, my fingers sliding out of his hair, to rest on his chin. Francis's elbows came down to rest on the side of my head, as his hips sank to rest between my parted legs.

To my disappointment, Francis pulled away from my lips to mark a trail over my chin, down the center of my neck, and through the valley of my chest, of sloppy kisses and love bites. My hands quickly returned to his hair, and one of his grabbed a lock of my own red hair, twirling it gently in his fingers.

"Make love to me, Francis." I managed to breath out, the words probably only half coherent. "Please."

"Be patient, Anya." Francis said. I could feel his lips curling into a smile against my stomach. "I have all night to show you how much I love you, my wife." He murmured before continuing on his path.