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She stood there in the bedchamber with a face as pale as death, the cold air within the room making her shiver more than the fear in her heart. Her new servants were removing her robes and combing her long black hair. She dared not look at them. She felt ashamed for what she was about to do, something a woman of her age should have already done.
Tonight was her wedding night and, instead of joy and excitement, she was sick with loathing and heartache.
She was 20 years old and still a virgin. She had intended on staying that way till a man worthy enough to claim her would come around, an unthinkable act for a woman in 14th century Italy, yet Alessandra had enough sisters to marry off ahead of her.
The idea was not so impossible until her father, a wealthy lord, died and left the wealth of the family in the hands of 2 sons. How terrible that those sons were of some whore of a woman and only 6 years old. He’d left his rightful family with nothing. For that, Alessandra was sold into marrying a widower as a second wife, a rich man yet a stranger and twice her age.
The thought of it made her stomach turn more violently. Perhaps if she made herself sick, he would refuse her for the night? Hearing the creaking of the door hinges, her heart dropped and her mind raced. Here entered Lord Bernardo Mantiello. She heard him bid the servants to leave. ‘Oh God,’ she thought, ‘strike me down as I stand and save me from this fate.’
He came closer to her and carefully put his hands on her shoulders. The collar of her nightdress had slipped to one side and she could feel his warm palm against her skin. He was gentle and trembled a bit, surprising her. Perhaps it was merely his age that made him unsteady.
‘Alessandra,’ he whispered, ‘turn and look upon me.’ His tone was not forceful but calm so she turned with chin down. Lifting her head up, she looked into his blue eyes.
His face was not ugly, his beard trimmed short and his mustache thin, hair touched with grey. He was in good shape and as handsome as one could be for one in his years, only slightly taller than she. ‘You are so beautiful, dearest,’ he said stroking her cheek, ‘Do not fear tonight. I promise you that I will treat you with as much love and devotion as I can give.’ She lowered her eyes. Pity she could not do the same.
Untying her collar, he let her nightdress fall, a chill running throughout her body as the cold air attacked her naked flesh. She could hear him let out a breath, his eyes taking in the sight of her supple skin in the moon and candle light. Her breasts were full with small pink nipples prominent with the cold of the room.
She looked so luminescent, like an Aphrodite made of pink granite, a small triangle of black curls between her legs. Bending his head down, he kissed her lips and felt no reciprocation so he slipped to her neck, kissing and sucking ever so slightly where her neck met her shoulder. Her legs shook as his beard tickled her skin, sending shivers down her spine.
No! She refused to let herself find enjoyment in this! However, he sensed her reaction and bid her to lie down with her legs over the side of the bed. Sitting first, she saw as he removed his robe and night shirt unveiling his limp manhood. This was her first sight of a real penis and it was very much different from the frescos of old Rome.
His testicles where large and unevenly hanging yet his member was about as long as her hand, his foreskin rolled a bit over the head. He came closer and laid his hand between her breasts, easing her back onto the mattress. Her heart pounded as his lips roamed her chest, taking into his mouth her firm nipple with a gentle suck. Her toes curled for a second as her eyes closed, a heat rising in her belly. She felt something tighten between her legs, not a new feeling but certainly a stronger one as ever before.
His hands stroked her breasts, warming them, alternating between soft caresses and firm squeezes. ‘Oh you are so beautiful… so soft and young,’ he murmured easing his hands down her body making her tighten more and more for every inch. She turned her head away, breathing heavily, hands gripping the sheets.
She didn’t notice that one of his hands had slipped from her body to his growing need. Touching her, he began to fondle himself, sliding his hand up and down his member. Easing himself up to her, he spread her legs, startling her, pressing the head of his cock against her lips. Her breathing was staggered and urgent, fingers white as she gripped the bed. He pushed against her, parting her lips yet unable to enter her. Her fear made her too tight so he would have to help her in ways only his experienced body could supply.
Kissing her belly, he sucked and licked from her hips to her inner thigh, her flesh twitching as his facial hair tickled her. He nipped at her skin as he travelled to her knee then back up again only to brush by her lips and do the same to her other thigh. She refused to let him see what it was doing to her, trying to suppress her gasps and sighs as his fingers raked her legs.
She could feel the heat rising, the burning in her loins intensifying as he stroked her lips with his fingers, teasing the wet nub there. Her juices covered his fingers as her rubbed and circled her need. The feeling was extraordinary but she couldn’t help but cry out as a wet tongue found its way into her pussy.
Sweat beaded on her supple skin as his mouth ravished her, tongue darting in and out of her, making her drip with need. Lost in the ecstasy of it all, Alessandra’s eyes darted about the room with its candles flickering, seeing suddenly that his limp cock was now full and erect, pressing against her lips with a slick head covered in their combined juices.
With a quick thrust, he penetrated her, the pain unbearable for her and yet slightly exciting as she was deflowered. Tears welled in her eyes as he thrust into her again and again, his chest heaving as his hands gripped her hips. ‘Oh God! Oh my dearest, you’re so small… oh you’re so small and wonderful,’ he gasped, eyes closed and unaware of her pain as she bit her lip to not cry out.
He moved one hand to cup her breast then to touch her face. Finding it damp, he stopped and looked at his bride, tears streaming down her heated cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry, my love,’ Bernardo said softly, ‘It is unfair that a woman should find pain where there should be so much pleasure.’ Alessandra refused to sob yet her whole self wished to.
He pulled out of her and she saw a stain of red on his length. Bending to kiss her, Bernardo’s heart fell when she turned her face from his lips. ‘I see,’ he muttered, ‘I am not a young man. My face is not as handsome as some virile rogue. I know you may never love me yet to spare you from more shame, you need not see my face as I wish not to see the anguish that I put you through.’
He bid her to face the headboard and lie on her belly, mounting the bed as he lifted her bottom till she was on her knees. Grasping onto a pillow, she let herself cry, feeling him enter her again, still slick yet still feeling as if he would rip her in two. His cock rammed in and out of her aching pussy, throbbing as he slowly reached the tipping point. ‘Oh love…. Oh sweet God, yes…’ he groaned as he pounded away at her virgin need, his balls slapping against her clitoris, taking the edge off of the pain.
‘Yes! God… yes! Yes!!’ he moaned as hot jets of creamy white fluid filled her, spilling out of her pussy as he pulled out and eased her onto the mattress. Panting from the effort, he held her close, his member slowly diminishing as it pressed against her.
Kissing her hair and stroking her body, he begged forgiveness for the anguish he caused. She heard only the wind from outside of the fortress that would stand as her prison, her ‘home’. This was how her marriage would be, torture edged in pleasure from a man she’d never love in a cold and drafty castle she could never escape from. Her t
ears and his apologies sang her to sleep, her first night of being Lady Mantiello, the last night of her innocence.
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