Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
As I watch, Iolanthe taps a spot at the front of her bodice, and Turnip grabs the dress there. This time, when she yanks, the sound of fabric ripping is so loud that it echoes in the room, and another raucous cheer fills the hall. Iolanthe's dress falls to shreds at her feet and she stands timidly in front of me, waiting for judgment.
As if I could ever think she is anything less than perfect.
The freckles that cover her face disappear at her cleavage, leaving only soft-looking, unblemished flesh. Her breasts are much bigger than I anticipated, and I remember what she said about binding them under her clothes. They are heavy and full, her nipples tight as she is exposed to the air. Her hips are thick and flare out to long, strong legs and thick thighs, and undressed, she is every bit the strong, strapping maiden she was rumored to be.
I've never seen anything more beautiful.
Swallowing hard, Iolanthe keeps her hands at her side, though her fingers clench and unclench. She moves slowly, turning and presenting her plump, rounded backside before facing me once more. Her chin lifts, and she's trembling, but she meets my gaze and waits.
"I find my bride pleasing," I manage in a hoarse voice.
Another roar goes up from the crowd, and the clapping and shouting is so loud I cannot hear myself think. I step forward, ripping my tunic off and moving to Iolanthe's side. My only thought is to cover her up, to make this better for her. I wanted to do this ceremony because as a male, it pleases me to think of my bride stripped bare in front of others, that I get to see her naked, lush body presented in front of me so others can see the bounty that will be mine. But the reality of it is as terrible as it is titillating. Iolanthe looks both faint and defiant, and I feel like a churlish ass for putting her through this.
I pull my tunic over her head and tug the length of it until she is completely covered. She pushes her hands through the sleeves, blushing, and then frees her braids, even as everyone continues to call and yell obscenities at us.
"W-what now, my lord?" Iolanthe asks, her hand going to my arm.
She looks far too good, slightly mussed and flushing and wearing only my tunic, and it's distracting. I adjust my stiff cock in my pants—which causes another round of laughter to rise from my men—and lead her over to the chairs waiting for us. "Now the wedding feast."
When she's seated, I grab Tindal's cloak and drape it over her legs, then take another cloak handed to me and bundle her in it. Iolanthe is covered from head to toe, her gaze downcast, but there's a hint of a smile to her mouth as if she's amused at my fussing. I glare at my men until they calm down, and with a quick signal of my hand, the feast is served.
The music starts. It's not great music—it's more fit for a campfire than a fine wedding—but the flutes and drummer are enthusiastic, and they're all we've got. Wine is poured into every cup, and trenchers of bread are passed around and filled with meat and vegetables. Hunks of cheese and bowls of nuts from the larder are brought to our table, along with cakes and pies of the likes I have never seen before. It all smells incredible, and I pick up one puffy, flaky pastry and sniff it. Gravy oozes out of the side and I take a bite, and it's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. "This is amazing," I say, incredulous. "Who taught Cook to make these?"
"I did," Iolanthe says, adjusting the cloaks I've piled atop her. "I hope you are not offended that I stepped in to help organize your keep?"
Offended? I'm tempted to crawl under the table and kiss her large feet. "You are a wonder."
She looks pleased at my words, beaming at me. Her gaze flicks to the center of the room, where Turnip has picked up one of her discarded sleeves and waves it above her head in time to the music. Iolanthe leans toward me. "Are you…certain you are pleased?"
"More than pleased," I admit, taking another bite of savory pie. "Did it frighten you?"
"It wasn't my favorite," Iolanthe confesses, pulling the cloaks tighter around her. "But I suppose we are even now."
Even? I choke on a bite of pie, then thump my chest with my fist, because she's going to kill me. Now I can't stop thinking about Iolanthe's shy touches on my cock as she discovered it and petted it like a pup. I was not thinking of “even” as I showed her. I merely wished to ease her curiosity. "If tonight seemed offensive, tomorrow night shall be more to your liking."