Catherine stretched her arms sideways and yawned. She opened her eyes. Everything was still dark around her. Catherine closed her eyes again and smiled when she remembered her dream.
He was handsome. Tall and handsome and very well groomed. His smile seemed to be only for her. His grip on her body was gentle and demanding, loving and firm. She had offered no resistance when he turned her around and unbuttoned the endless row of pearl buttons at the back of her ball gown.
Catherine smiled when she remembered the ball gown. It was a beautiful royal blue that pushed her breasts up into a stunning cleavage and pulled her waist in, thinner than she had ever seen it. And the fabric of the skirt seemed to go on and on forever.
When he pushed the fabric from her shoulders, the weight of the dress pulled it down over her body, exposing the special corset she was wearing under the dress. She looked down at her exposed breasts and watched as the corset joined the dress around her feet. He had untied the strings and pushed it down. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to a huge four poster bed.
She had been watching too many episodes of the television series about the ‘Tudors’ lately, Catherine thought. The four poster bed in her dreams were exactly the same as the one where Henry VIII’s wives slept in. The history of the English monarchy intrigued her and she would have loved to had been one of the Queen’s maids of honor.
The handsome man gently put her down on the bed. He walked around to the other side and in the process he took of his clothes. He lay down beside her. His fingers traced the contours of her body, circled around her nipples and traced the inner line of her thighs. He bent forward to kiss her – a long lingering kiss that ignited the passion deep inside her. His mouth moved to her nipples at the same time as his hand cupped her sex. She moaned with passion, squirmed under him and arched her back. His fingers slipped into her. He finger-fucked her while he sucked and bit her nipples, just enough to make her moan for more. The passion exploded and suddenly he was in her. His cock filled her and pulsated inside her. He pulled back and pushed in hard again. With deliberate strokes he fucked her. She spread her legs wide, and bucked her hips to meet his thrusts. She climaxed first, feeling the fluids run from her pussy. Her sensitive insides welcomed the hardening of his cock just before he climaxed and whispered in her ear: “You’re my Queen.”
A giggle escaped Catherine as she whispered the words: “You’re my Queen.”
Her hand slipped between her folds. Her wetness welcomed her fingers. Her fingers touched her insides and briefly she wondered why it felt as if she really had been fucked hard the night before. She shrugged as she spread her wetness to her clitoris and rubbed gently on and around the swollen piece of flesh. Her legs were pulled up and spread wide. It did not take her long to bring herself to a climax.
Catherine opened her eyes again. It was still dark. She pushed the covers back to get up, but when she wanted to swing her legs over the side of the bed, something blocked her. She reached out and felt the heavy velvet curtains surrounding the bed. What? Curtains? She pushed them aside. The first thing she saw was a fireplace. A thick white rug in front of the burning fire next drew her attention. She moved to the side of the bed and looked around. Where was she? How did she get here? Catherine slid off the high bed and took a few steps into the room. A table with four chairs stood in an alcove in front of a window. On the table stood a silver teapot and the finest china cups and saucers. She didn’t recognize any of the items.
Confused Catherine walked a couple of steps more. There was a vague familiarity to the room, but her confusion prevented her from clear thinking. Was she dreaming? Was all this part of her dream? Had she not woken up yet? Catherine yelped when she pinched herself hard. According to herself she was wide awake. Fear gripped her heart. How did she get here? She walked over to the dressing table and looked at her reflection. At first she just stared, trying to understand. It was only when she heard the voice behind her that she recognized the face in the mirror.
“Good morning, Milady. Did you sleep well on your first night as Queen of England, my love?”
Staring back at her with the same confused expression she knew she had on her face, was Catherine Parr, the sixth wife of the man whose voice she had heard – Henry The Eighth.
© Rebel’s Notes
PS: I loved the TV series, The Tudors. The history of the English monarchy intrigues me and I am a sucker for the costumes in The Tudors. I would love to wear a dress like this at least once in my life! And yes, this story was inspired by the series… and Stranded’s brilliant prompt of course!
This post was written for the discontinued meme A Darker Flame, with the prompt: Monarch