The Rebel's Wife Pt. 01

"You will be perfect for him." The noble man stepped in front of me, stopping our progress through the grand stone hallway. He was close enough that I could smell the pipeleaf on his breath as he pulled me to stand directly in front of a large, ornately-carved wooden door. I could feel his fingers moving on me, slipping across my clavicle and neck as his gaze traveled to my breasts, then back up to my face. "You do not need all of this," he murmured, and started plucking out the hair pins that held my hair up in a coiled braid. I was frozen stiff from fear and anticipation, not moving, as the pins clinked to the floor. My waves of hair now hung down, slightly wild and almost to my waist. I took this opportunity to hide my face from this tall, gold-clad man who had spirited me so far away from my home. I had been with anxiety since that morning, when I had been taken from a market near my village, but I still suspected I was not yet as scared as I should be.

I had caught eyes with this man by chance as I browsed the market stalls for wool to make a new frock. I had looked away, knowing not to associate myself with finely dressed strangers, but feeling well full of myself that a handsome noble man had found me nice on the eyes. I knew I was an uncommon beauty in my own small village, but surely this courtly gentleman would not think I was anything special. When I glanced again in his direction, he was still looking at me, with an intensity and purpose that unsettled me. I swiftly ended my small talk with the wool merchant and exited toward the meat market. In my peripheral vision I could see the noble moving toward me, his green and gold tabard in stark contrast to the brown homespun of the other marketgoers. I desperately cast my gaze to find someone I knew in the crowd to provide some measure of safety from what I was sure would be bawdy advances. Then I felt something cold and sharp prick the small of my back.

"Hail, pretty. You're going to walk with me now." A man's whiskers tickled my ear and a hard body was now pressed against my side. He must have been almost a foot taller than me. Rightly cowed, I had walked with him, silently through the market and up to his carriage. He kept the knife at my waist as motivation for good behavior.

Now, a day's ride away from the market, I could still feel the coldness of that knife. It was this reminder of barely contained violence that kept me standing there, silent and meek as the nobleman began to undress me in that cold hallway. He reached over my shoulders to the nape of my neck and skillfully undid the buttons he found there. I spoke my small protests into his chest as he continued his urgent task, my voice muffled by his closeness. All I could think was that I had never been this close to a man, and that we had never even been introduced. He smelled like sweat and cloves and fine linen. His busy fingers felt warm and calloused, and the way that they brushed at the small hairs on the back of my neck made a strange thrill go through my spine.

My best market-day dress fell unceremoniously to the stones, leaving me only in my chemise. To my horror I could feel the man's fingers working roughly at the lacing on my chemise, and I found myself dumbly cooperating as he lifted it off of my body. A small sob escaped my lips. I was cold, and dreaded what might wait for me behind the grand wooden door. My nipples were painfully erect, and I felt goosepimples travel down my legs. Was this the door to his rooms? Was I to be his mistress? Or would he ruin me and cast me aside? With one hand he combed his fingers through my long hair, while with the other he grabbed my chin to make me face him. I tried to comfort myself, telling myself at least he was not a bad-looking man. This noble was young, only a handful of years older than me, and was in possession of a well-cut jaw and light brown hair, tied neatly away from his face. He looked strongly built but not overfed, which I imagined was a rarity among nobles. His eyes were deep-set and green and seemed intent on consuming the whole of me. I sniffled, eyes welling up with anxious tears. I was standing in my all-together in front of a total stranger in a grand castle, far from anywhere I knew.

"Stop your weeping," he said, not unkindly, and lightly stroked the soft crescent of the top of my breast with his fingertips. Surprised, I shut my mouth quickly as his wandering fingers snaked behind my neck and firmly pulled my body to his. My whole view was taken up now by his green tunic as I felt his free hand moving against my front. I whimpered when I felt his large fingers slip between my labia and into a small pool of wetness there. His fingers lingered there, softly moving, and I felt a terrible pressure on my maidenhead before he gently released me. "You will meet him now. Be good and do exactly as you are told." Upon my hesitation he commanded, "Nod," eliciting a small nod from my person.

He swung the door open to reveal a well-lit room, as rich as the rest of the castle I had seen. It had a wall full of more books than I had seen in my life, and thick green curtains opened on tall windows. Instead of a bed, which I had expected, it had three tables, laid with papers, maps, books, and quills. A man sat, writing at one of these desks and looked up as we entered. "Sit," my keeper ordered, and walked over to clasp hands with this man.

"Your hunt was fruitful then, Gareth?" The man wiped ink from his fingers with a cloth finer than any cloth I had ever seen. Was it silk? He was tall and had dark curly hair, bound only with a fine silver circlet. I nearly choked on air upon realizing whose castle I had been taken to. The circlet indicated he was a Duke, and the falcon insignia he wore told me he was Lord Kanan, the only lord in the Kingdom currently in open rebellion against the King's rule. I was in terrible, terrible trouble. The man who had brought me there gestured to me in answer to his Lord's question, and soon both of their heavy gazes weighed on my naked body. Lord Kanan approached me with the confidence of a man used to owning everything in his sight. Slowly, deliberately he walked around my chair. His gaze traveled up and down my body, interested, but clearly not besotted. My cheeks flamed with terror and frustration. "She is cold, Gareth," The Lord pronounced, reaching out to flick at my erect nipples. A twinge traveled down deep into me and I squirmed on my chair, gooseflesh now covering the entirety of my arms.

"Sorry milord, I figured you would want to see all of her. She is a beauty, is she not?" My keeper, Gareth replied, showing the first smile I had seen on his face. It was self-satisfied and lustful. I quickly looked away, staring at my hands.

"You did well. I think there is potential with this one." Lord Kanan's voice came from behind me now, and I whimpered in surprise as I felt his touch on the back of my neck. I felt a large chunk of my hair being grabbed, and he carelessly jerked my head back, and then side to side. "She seems... demure. Is that so? What kind of girl have you brought me?"

"I know as much as you milord. She was quiet in the carriage, though that may be the shock of her abduction. More importantly..." Gareth's face entered my field of vision as he knelt down in front of my chair, "she was wet as a spring just now when I undressed her." He took one hand and wedged it between my closed knees, using his superior strength to push his hand closer to my core. I felt Lord Kanan's hand leave my hair and he joined Gareth in front of me, a studious look still on his face.

Gareth's fingers again slipped into my most secret place, moving smoothly until they brushed against the barrier that was my maidenhead. I could not help it, I whined and tried to back up out of his reach, but the back of the chair limited my escape. Neither man seemed fazed by my outburst. Gareth was grinning, completely devoid of shame, and he looked to his lord for praise. Kanan stood, his hand pressed to his mouth seriously. "And, milord, she is a maiden," I had never before heard the word 'maiden' uttered in such a way that it sounded dirty and sinful. I blushed, then moaned as Gareth's finger wiggled mercilessly inside me. Lord Kanan grunted and stalked away back to his writing table, surprising me with his coldness.

"God above, what use have I with a maiden?" Kanan was already dipping his quill in ink and pressing it to a page, his face a dark storm.

"Sir she will not be a maiden forever, and we know she is clean of disease and able to be taught exactly as you want," exasperated, Gareth turned his hungry gaze away from me, "many lords would be jubilant at such a catch. And sir, if I'm not overstepping myself, it is expected of you, as the new King of Kalagar, to only take virgins as your wives." It was jarring to me to hear this man referred to as a King. I was a loyal subject of the real King, and to even be in the presence of this man felt disloyal and dirty.

The storm did not pass from Kanan's face as he scratched words onto the parchment. "I do not understand the fixation there is upon maidens, Gareth. It is messy to cure them of their maidenhood, and I have been told, painful to them as well. I find it distasteful."

"But sir, surely you do not find her distasteful." Gareth cupped one of my full breasts to make his point. I was mortified as my nipple pebbled and throbbed, a dark pink against the pale white of my breast. Kanan was finally looking at me again, his brows furrowed. His hot stare made warmth and moisture pool again between my legs.

"No. She is far from distasteful. She is a beauty and I am sure she will make me a pleasant wife. She has much better tits than Loraine and is not too skinny, like that servant girl. You did well Sir Gareth. I order that you take her maidenhood now so that I may have a wedding night with her that is pleasant for us both." My heart jumped and stomach twisted in fear as they talked so callously about my honor. I could not tell if I was relieved or horrified that I was to be wed to Kanan. Gareth absentmindedly licked his lips, naked lust showing on his face.

"Milord is too gracious. That is the most generous of gifts... But a king is to have a virgin as a wife..."

"A king is to do exactly as he pleases, nothing less. Please do not wait on my account. I shall be finishing my correspondence to Tieral then going over the new charters. You can help me once you have finished. Go on," Kanan cracked a small smile at his servant and friend, "Enjoy her this once, for soon she will be under my protection."

Gareth grinned back, and swiftly turned the whole of his attention towards me. Without hesitating he lifted me from the chair and set me on one of the tables, such that my head was level with his. His hands started to knead the sensitive skin of my thighs and he breathed a low sound into my neck. My heart was still beating frantically, but some part of my brain was glad to finally know my fate, after so much uncertainty. This part had accepted what was about to happen and was even... excited. I could smell the maleness of him, part pipe smoke, part sweat, part leather, and it sent me further into a kind of compliant trance.

Moisture from the core of me ran down and landed on the table as Gareth grabbed at my breasts. I could feel one of his callouses rub over the most sensitive part of my nipple and I gasped. He was squeezing hard at my tits, periodically letting them fall and bounce against my chest. I let out a moan as this treatment became unbearable. I felt the whole of me was on fire, and found myself pushing my naked body closer against his clothed one. Gareth's hand again trailed down to feel my wetness, stroking me in a new way. I felt an intense build up of pressure there and wanted desperately for his fingers to continue their journey deeper, but Gareth stopped where he had before, gently pressing against my virginal barrier. This feeling brought a low throaty moan from me, and I clasped his arms, digging my nails into his bicep involuntarily.

Finally, finally, he removed his fingers from me and undid his belt. I risked a look at the Duke, still sitting at the other table. Briefly he looked up from his papers and our eyes met. He gave me a devious, meaningful look before going back to his correspondence. Gareth had now removed his manhood from his breeches. I was taken aback by how it looked. I had not been expecting it to be so hard, or so menacing looking. I could feel myself getting wetter as Gareth pushed my torso roughly against the table, so I was fully laying down, with him standing up at the head of the table.

Gareth was breathing raggedly now, and the intense look he had been giving me since the market had only become more predatory. I felt like I was pierced by his green eyes like a rabbit in a trap as he positioned himself over me. His arms, tense and hard, were pillars to either side of me. He leaned it over me such that our chests were almost touching. It was then that I felt the foreign presence at my opening, insistently spreading my lips as it pressed into me. It felt warm, and wide, and insistent. I cried out, as it almost immediately was apparent to me that the member was too big. It was not going to fit. My hands scrabbled vainly against his arms as I tried to push him off of me. Desperately I looked to the Duke, but he was as concentrated as ever on the work on his desk. "Shhh, shhhh," Gareth seemed to be looking slightly past me as he slowly maneuvered his body. "Lie back and I will be gentle with you." He said, his voice hoarse.

I froze, halting my struggles. Cool tears beaded at the corners of my eyes as I felt the pressure become unbearable inside me. The blunt head of his manhood felt enormous as pain bloomed and then exploded inside me. I felt some part of me give and Gareth slid an inch farther into me. His breath hitched and he briefly stopped his invasion. Still inside me he lifted his body slightly, closing his eyes and taking in a long breath. His hands captured my harms and squeezed my wrists insistently. He took another shaky breath. It seemed like whatever was happening to me was finally over-at least for now. I squirmed, uncomfortable and in pain. This made him open his eyes again, revealing the enduring predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Oh!" I shouted as he gripped my waist and pushed further inside of me, into a place I did not even know I had. I wanted to scream for help, but I knew Lord Kavan's attention would only make the situation worse. The way he looked at me suggested no compassion, only a well-controlled hunger. Gareth slid out of me, far from gentle, his jaw tense and face intent. I yelped as Gareth again plunged into me, spreading and stretching my womanhood to what felt like a breaking point. He thrust in and out of me quickly now. His movements were lithe and practiced, which served a stark contrast with my helpless squirming. My body bounced on the table as I was used, my breasts moving in a way, that even in this terrifying moment, embarrassed me. I was too afraid to grasp at the fine fabric that covered Gareth's arms, so my hands fluttered uselessly on the polished wood of the table.

There was a sharp pain accompanying every thrust. There was a pleasure too, but the pain was insistent and demanded to be known. I found myself both hoping that Gareth would tire soon and leave me alone and yearning for more and more of the thrusts. I felt like something good and pleasurable was just out of my reach. If I could only move my body slightly down, it would feel so much better...

Gareth's large hand came to push down hard between my breast, slamming me back down against the table. His other hand was grasping my thigh so hard I was worried that his fingers were making a permanent imprint there. Gareth was fucking me faster and with abandon now, and he let out a low groan. Blushing hard, self-conscious, despite my lack of agency in this deed, I moved my eyes back to the Duke. He remained as interested as ever in his papers, and I watched him pour hot wax on a letter and use his ring to stamp his seal. Gareth then grasped my jaw, pulling my chin towards him with his hard fist. I blinked up at him, flushed, and wincing, to see his eyes almost hidden behind heavy lids with tiny beads of sweat glistening on his temple. He was handsome, even in this state, and I began to lean into his thrusts, wanting more of him. He thrust his finger into my mouth, causing me to I moan into his hand. Gareth slowed his thrusts, which only made me feel the hard length of him all the more acutely against my inner walls. I tried to scramble away again but found little purchase on the table. Gareth's brow was furrowed in concentration, but even so he let out a dry chuckle at my futile attempt to escape him. Then his eyes closed, and I felt the sudden absence of him inside of me. He let loose a hot jet of seed onto my navel, making a quiet sound as he did.

I lay there, stunned, with my legs still spread wide as Gareth tucked away his manhood and put his belt back on. He wiped his forehead on his sleeve and made his way to a carafe of wine in the corner of the room. He poured two glasses, bringing one over to his Lord. Kavan accepted, looking at me over the brim of his wine glass. "So is she up to the task of being a King's wife?" He asked Gareth, a playful gleam in his eye.

"Yes milord," Gareth was out of breath, and cracked a grin. "She surely befits a King."