They married a week before the official ceremony, amid the cries of rebellion and the growing Wajyaku threat. "We have no choice," Damiya said. Seimiya kept her head bowed as Damiya spoke with the priests, who were frowning and twisting their hands. "We are surrounded by enemies and we are at the brink of war. I do not wish for them to harm her," Damiya said, and he cast a glance at Seimiya again, who blushed, staring at her hands. "She is important to me."
Quietly, Damiya moved beside her and gently took her hand.
That night, neither one of them spoke. She was nervous. Damiya shushed her quietly, then pressed a soft kiss against her temple.
"Do not fret, Seimiya," Damiya said. "I will not hurt you."
Now he watched her as she carefully got ready for bed. Already the night's preparations were coming to an end: a ceremonial bath, the combing of her hair by the maids and attendants, the long bridal robe that covered the rest of her body.
Damiya watched. Slowly, Seimiya undid the clasp to her robe, before carefully draping the fabric over the dresser. She was wearing a thin chemise, so thin it was almost translucent: he could see the pert, stiff nipples of her breasts poking through the fabric.
"Are you ready, Oji-sama?"
Damiya nodded, and Seimiya hesitantly lied back on the bed. There were goosebumps on the exposed skin of her shoulders and chest, and she stared up at the ceiling, breathing hard.
She was frightened. Damiya's mouth tightened. He moved beside her gingerly, taking care to keep a respectful distance between their bodies.
Damiya turned. She had turned her head, facing him.
"I don't know what to do," Seimiya said.
"Do nothing," Damiya said, and quietly he let his hand fall down the curve of her cheek. She was shaking and Damiya moved closer, pressing his lips to her forehead and waiting for her to close her eyes.
She was steeling herself. He could tell. He could tell from how her muscles tensed, how she shook beneath his touch. Quietly, Damiya moved to position the length of his body beside hers, pressing soft, penitent kisses against the sides of her eyes and brow, before moving to kiss her softly on the lips. The action soothed her and she relaxed a little beneath him, and he smiled, kissing her again on the mouth.
"Who would have thought," Damiya said, and he cupped her face, letting his thumb trace a path down the side of her cheek. "Who would have thought my sweet Seimiya would be here with me? You have made me very happy," Damiya said, and Seimiya blushed. He dipped lower to kiss her lips again, this time moving to cover her with his body. She stiffened but Damiya soothed her fears with small, soft caresses, gentle and reassuring. "Shh," Damiya said again. "I will not hurt you."
She nodded, her eyes wide and trusting. Gently he leaned forward, this time kissing her with an open mouth. She seized up, then shivered, eyes open, when he let the kiss deepen, probing her gently with his tongue until she relaxed again, breathing slowly. The blush on her cheeks started to spread down her neck and chest, and Damiya felt himself harden. The kiss grew more needy, wet, and open-mouthed, and Damiya breathed hard, grinding down against her core.
Seimiya stiffened. Damiya pulled up again and saw Seimiya flushing, frightened and looking up at him again. "Are you afraid?" Damiya asked. Seimiya nodded. Gently, Damiya snaked his hand between their bodies, feeling her tense, before gently pressing one chaste finger against her mound. "Have you ever touched yourself, before?"
"No." The word came out breathy and frightened. "It's dirty and improper, and--"
He let his finger press a little harder against her, feeling the soft button of her womanhood under the fabric of her chemise.
"It is for the marriage bed," Damiya said, and he stroked her further, adding a little more pressure, pleased to see her involuntarily arch against his touch. "It will make you feel good."
Seimiya's face was flushed. Her eyes had fallen closed, and he was pleased to hear the soft, shallow sounds of her breath as he stroked her, watching intently as the fabric of her chemise pulled and tugged against the stiff peaks of her nipples. "I will ask you again," Damiya said, and he let his mouth close over the fabric where her nipple was peaking through, sucking lightly before rising to speak again, "Have you ever touched yourself, before?"
"Y-yes," Seimiya said. Damiya smiled. So innocent.
"And tell me, Seimiya," Damiya said, and slowly he let his hand move from her core and slide up beneath the fabric of her chemise, one flat palm feeling her muscles strain at the loss of contact, "Have you ever touched yourself to the point of release? Tell me," Damiya said, and Seimiya whimpered, muscles tensing. "Your husband wants to know."
"Yes," Seimiya said, and Damiya smiled again, letting his hands slide up the crest of her ribs and palm flat the broad swell of her breasts, hands moving beneath the fabric of her chemise before tweaking both nipples, running his thumbs along the taut points. He was stiff and leaking now, the hard knot of arousal rising uncomfortably against the fabric of his pants, but Damiya would not be impatient with her. He would take his time seducing her. "Are you still afraid?" Damiya asked.
"No," Seimiya said, and Damiya moved lower down her abdomen, moving to mouth the sensitive nub through the fabric of her chemise, before asking again, "Do you think that I would harm you?"
"No," Seimiya said, and Damiya smiled, satisfied. She was no longer shaking. Quietly, Damiya pushed up the fabric of her chemise, exposing her panties and her bare breasts, moving to kiss her bare skin and lick her nipples, reverently. The fabric bunched up just below her collarbone, and he felt Seimiya lift her shoulders off the bed, letting him pull the nightdress off.
She was wet and starting to soak through the fabric of her panties, and Damiya smiled, moving down again to her pelvis and letting his hands trail the waistband of her underwear. Seimiya shook, and Damiya gently kissed the skin below her navel, letting his lips trail the edge of her panties, then letting his mouth barely graze the small bud of her clit over the fabric.
She was starting to shake again, and Damiya flowed upwards, kissing the length of her body and letting the pads of his fingers circle her nipple, moving to kiss her, open-mouthed and deep and feeling no resistance. Her face and the tops of her breasts were flushed, and her breathing was shallow, ragged. Quietly, Damiya rose and pulled off his tunic; the outer garment fell in a heap as he impatiently undid the buttons to his shirt, shrugging off the top layers of his clothes and exposing his bare chest. Seimiya's eyes opened, then widened. Suddenly she seemed more afraid.
"Seimiya," Damiya said, and she shook. He covered her with his body, framing her face with his hands. "Do you trust me?"
She nodded, eyes wide and locked into his.
"And you know I would never hurt you?"
"I--" her words were cut off when Damiya gently let his fingers caress her womanhood, feeling her wetness and her clit beneath the fabric.
"Have trust in me," Damiya said, and Seimiya nodded again, breathing hard through her nose. Damiya smiled, then gently, so gently, let his hands slide down the waistband of her underwear.
Seimiya seized up, seemingly frightened and shocked at the feel of his bare fingers on her sex. She was slippery and wet and Damiya let her wetness lubricate the pads of his fingers, which he slid around her nub before moving his hand with short, strong strokes. "Show me how you touch yourself," Damiya said, and Seimiya didn't move, didn't say a word, until Damiya gently placed her hand on top of his. "Show me," Damiya said, and Seimiya nodded, tentatively moving her hand over his.
The strokes were unsure and nervous, but slowly, he felt Seimiya's hand begin to move with purpose, guiding his fingers and showing him the rhythm toward her climax. Damiya kissed her breasts and mouthed her nipples, flicking the tips with his tongue as he moved his hand from her mound and let her touch herself, his hand cupped over hers and feeling how she stroked herself, trying to find release. Seimiya whimpered and groaned and arched against his hand, and Damiya could help himself, letting his other hand move to thumb the tip of his erection, which strained against the fabric of his pants. Seimiya came suddenly, body jerking with harsh contractions, and Damiya tugged down the rest of his clothes, exposing his hardness before moving to kiss her, deeply.
She was wet as he moved between her legs, easing the head of his erection just inside of her.
Seimiya froze. Damiya stopped, shaking with the effort not to thrust. "Seimiya?"
"It hurts." Seimiya's voice was tight. She was shaking again. Damiya nodded, then moved his body away from hers.
She was innocent. She had never seen a naked man before. She looked up at him and tears were starting to prick her eyes, and Damiya's jaw set, angry at himself for being so impatient. "Forgive me," Damiya said, and he kissed her eyes, then the sides of her face. "I will make you feel good. I promise."
Seimiya nodded again, wide-eyed and trusting. She was so young.
Damiya moved, this time closing his mouth over her sex, relishing her scent and the muted taste of salt. He heard Seimiya moan and gently he stroked her nub with his tongue, sucking lightly before laving the sensitive bundle of nerves the way he had watched her fingers move. She was close but Damiya had other plans, gently moving a single finger to probe inside her.
Seimiya froze again. Damiya stopped, then pressed penitent kisses against her clit, nursing her until she relaxed again, her wetness smearing obscenely against his lips and face. Quietly he moved, and Seimiya made a disappointed sort of sound, when he gently licked soft circles around her entrance.
"Oji-sama." Her voice was a low whine. "Oji-sama, please--"
He knew and quietly he moved up again to suckle at her clit, this time letting the pad of his fingers trace gently around her entrance. Slowly, one curved finger eased inside her.
He was careful not to move too quickly, gently fingering her until he could slip a second digit inside, stretching her. It seemed uncomfortable for her and Seimiya squirmed, wincing at the intrusion. "Shh," Damiya said, and he licked her clit again, laving her gently and giving her one hard suck, letting his fingers slide in and out, before pressing down hard with the pad of his thumb.
She came suddenly, the strength of her orgasm surprising him. He felt her walls contract as her hips jerked sharply, riding the contractions of her climax with the heel of his hand pressed against her center.
She fell back against the bed, breathing hard and her skin covered with a fine sheen of sweat. Damiya moved again, delicately wiping his hand against the coverlet, before positioning his hardness against her wetness. Instead of pushing against her entrance, he tortured himself by moving up along the outside of her wetness, the head of his erection sliding up against her clit. He mouthed the side of her neck and palmed her nipples, kneading her breasts as he moved, his hardness sliding over her clit and smearing wetness between their bodies. Then, when she was relaxed, he moved and positioned himself at her entrance, then slowly eased himself inside her.
Seimiya cringed, but it was not as sharp as last time, and Damiya was careful to wait and let her accommodate him. She was tight and wet and he felt her clenching around him. Resting his weight on his forearms, he gave a small, experimental thrust upwards, and Seimiya gasped, her mouth popping open, suddenly.
"Seimiya?" Damiya searched her face, shaking with the effort not to thrust. "Are you okay?"
"Yes." Her eyes opened. She was blushing, hard. "Will you do that again?"
Damiya smiled. He moved and kissed her face, thrusting gently and slowly.
Outside, the trees rustled. Dark clouds rolled over the stars and the sky suddenly opened, starting to rain. Thunder rolled and Damiya began to thrust harder now, a little more erratic, and Seimiya cried out and clutched at his back and arms, her knees bumping against his ribs. He would love her. Keep her. Bury himself in her. He would protect her and keep her from harm. Damiya's thrusts grew more frantic as he felt himself edge toward his own release, his heart beating hard in his chest. Seimiya. His goddess. His only queen. He loved her more than the sun itself. He would die and gladly kill for her.
He came inside her suddenly, gasping into her shoulder and breathing, hard. His seed spilled inside her, the long curtain of her hair tangling in his fingers and hands. He collapsed over her and gathered her up against his chest, loose-limbed and pliant, before pressing reverent kisses against her brow.
His heartbeat slowed. He felt Seimiya shift against him. She was smiling against his chest.
"Oji-sama," Seimiya said, and she looked up at him, smiling. "Thank you."
"Seimiya." Damiya smiled, all the love in the world welling up from at the seat of his chest, before shifting her close and falling asleep beside her.
They would execute him at dawn. It was a sentence befitting the man who had betrayed his Queen: she would sit up by the executioner's post, wait as he sharpened the ax, then order the first strike. It was her duty, no one else's: not even Shunan could give the order.
"You told me that you loved me," Seimiya said. She looked up at him, agonized. "You lied."
Shadows crossed the line of his face; she couldn't see his eyes.
"Seimiya," he said, and his head hung forward; a single teardrop dripped onto the floor.