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Wedding Night	By : SAF Category: S through Z > Wheel of Time Series Views: 5430 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Wheel of Time series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Wedding Night
- 1
It had been beyond kind of Mistress Luhhan to turn over the use of her house to Perrin and Faile, since neither had a place here in Emond’s Field in which they could get some privacy. Mistress Luhhan had even found some flowers to decorate the bedroom with, despite the suddenness of the wedding. Which was not to say that flowers were much on Perrin’s mind that night, no matter how good they smelled.
There had been smiles and congratulations. People had been there, his cousin among them, but Perrin could not recall a word that was said. All he could think of was her. Faile. His falcon. His wife.
She wore her narrow-skirted grey dress, with its high and modest neckline. It hid everything, but somehow that just made her all the more attractive. He wanted to see what she was concealing under those womanly clothes.
Nevertheless, he kissed her lips tenderly and kept his hands from straying too far, once he’d kicked the door of the Luhhan’s familiar home closed behind them.
Faile gripped his beard and stared into his yellow eyes. “Perrin ni Aybara t’Bashere. My husband,” she said with great satisfaction. His heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t sure about giving up the Aybara name—that wasn’t how they did things in the Theren—but if it was her people’s custom, he would do it. For her.
She led him to the bed, nipping at his lips as they went. He was too fascinated by her lips to notice at what point she shed his coat and shirt. It was only when he felt her fingers combing through the hair on his chest that he became aware of his partial nudity.
Faile pushed him gently forwards until he was sitting at the foot of the comfortable old bed. She smiled down at him confidently, the curve of her full lips gentling the starkly chiselled panes of her cheeks and the curve of her nose.
Agile and slender, Faile needed no help to undo the buttons of her dress and ease her shoulders out of it, revealing the naturally tan skin of her body. Her cheeks darkened a little further as she pulled the dress and the shift beneath it downwards.
Perrin’s mouthed dried when he beheld her full breasts, their dark nipples straining out towards his touch. It would have been rude to refuse them, and Perrin had been raised to be polite. He squeezed her breath shuddering from her when he explored her breasts with his callused hands. She strained her chest towards him in response, gripping his thick forearms in her long-fingered hands.
She climbed into his lap of her own accord and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply now, the way she had been on their stolen moments alone this past week. It wasn’t quite the same though, for she’d never ground her hips against him as excitedly as she did now.
“I love you, Faile,” he said. “I want you so much.”
She smiled. “Good. Because I mean for you to have me. So much.” Despite her bold words, she broke down into a fit of giggles that only another thorough kissing could silence.
People often thought Perrin slow of wit, but that wasn’t true. He knew exactly what it meant when Faile lifted her hips to kneel above him. His hands slid down over the beautiful curves of her waist and hips, pushing the dress further down, over her waist and down to her knees. He had only a brief moment to glimpse the dark triangle of hair that crowned her sex, before Faile pounced upon him.
Her hands explored his body eagerly, slipping under the waistband of his trousers to seek out his private parts. The roughness of her touch spoke of her inexperience, but Perrin didn’t mind. That it was Faile touching him was thrill enough, he didn’t need any great technique to find wonder in the situation. She was younger than he was, and a highborn lady—he had little doubt that she was a virgin.
Perrin kicked out of his boots, and helped her free him from the last of his clothes. When they were naked at last, he placed his hands on her hips and lifted her as easily as though she were a child. He laid her down in the middle of the bed and rolled atop her, making sure to support his own weight. Even if it hadn’t been her first time, he could not imagine being rough with her, and knowing that it was made him even more inclined to be gentle.
He was, of course, very hard by then. Faile had parted her legs for him as soon as he laid her down, and when he moved his hand to her womanhood to check her readiness, she gasped her welcome of his touch. Warm honey covered his fingers when he stroked them along her soft furrow.
“Perrin,” she moaned, spurring him on.
He shifted his weight, moving between her splayed legs. Faile seemed eager to reciprocate what he was doing for her, because she reached down to grasp his stiff cock. Her eyes snapped open once her hand closed around it, and a flattering gasp escaped her when she looked down between them to see what he had to offer her.
“I’ll go slow,” he whispered.
“I can take anything you have to give,” she boasted.
Perrin wasn’t about to be moved by such talk. He moved the tip of his manhood to his new wife’s special entrance, savouring the light kiss of her warm lower lips upon him. Slowly, he moved his hips forward, parting those lips and easing his way into her. Faile didn’t let her pain show, she was too proud and too brave for that, but he stroked her silky dark hair soothingly nonetheless. Bit by bit, he worked his way inside. By the time he was done her legs were wrapped tight around his waist and she was rocking herself against him.
He captured Faile’s lips with his, her breast with his hand, and began riding her nice and slow. It felt so good, being one with her. His wife. First of his new family. It wasn’t just the pleasure of sex either; it was the healing of a hidden hurt, the transition from cold to warmth, grief to love. He wanted nothing more in life than to be with her like this forever. But secretly he knew that this marriage would be a brief one, for even if the Trollocs didn’t get him, Bornhald’s noose awaited.
Faile’s breath came faster and faster. He could feel her heart beating against his palm through the gloriously soft flesh of her breast; it was racing fit to match that of the bird she named herself. Once, when he was much younger, Perrin had found a sparrow with a broken wing. He’d picked it up and carried it back to the village, hoping that someone could heal it. Many of the villagers had made fun of him for that, but his mother had been all smiles. She’d helped him nurse it back to health, and when the time came to set it free again, she’d been right there at his side. The swift hammering of Faile’s heart reminded him of how the little bird had felt while he held it in his hands. He swore then that he would protect her from anything or anyone, no matter what the cost.
Faile’s climax took Perrin by surprise, but no more so than it did her. Her tilted eyes went wide, her mouth gaped open, and she screamed his name so loudly that he was glad anew that Mistress Luhhan had afforded them this moment of privacy. Perrin smiled down at her gently as he watched her come.
It took her a while to come back to her senses, but when she did, she began rocking against Perrin much more insistently. The touch of her hands against his back and his bottom became more assured, so much so that her long nails came close to scoring his flesh. It didn’t hurt, but the strange sensation and the knowledge of what it meant, drove Perrin to shame himself by increasing his pace. Every time he tried to make himself slow down and be gentler with her, Faile’s grasping hands would spur him on.
At war with himself, his cock grasped by his wife’s sweet pussy, Perrin was unable to contain himself. Craving release, his hips sped up. He reached around to clasp Faile’s taut little bottom as he pounded into her. He kept expecting her to tell him to stop being so rough, but she never did, perhaps because she was so inexperienced in such matters. The onus was on him then; he needed to take responsibility for the pace of their lovemaking. He knew that. But he was so close now. Just a little more, Faile, please bear with me.
Perrin called out her name, just as she had called his, when he came inside his wife’s womb for the first time. The pleasure of that release was almost enough to drive all thought from his mind, but he maintained just enough awareness to keep his weight on his arms, instead of upon her fragile body.
“It’s so hot inside me,” Faile gasped in surprise, when she felt him filling her with his come. “That feels so good ...”
However good she felt, it couldn’t possibly compare to the bliss that settled over Perrin during that climax. In the aftermath, he rolled over to sprawl at her side, breathing heavily. Faile didn’t want to be parted from him even for a moment. She cuddled up against his side, and rested her black-haired head upon his shoulder, laughing softly.
“I love you,” Perrin murmured. It was the honest truth, too. She was fierce, brave, smart, beautiful. She was everything he could ask for in a wife. Why she’d decided to wed a simple blacksmith like him was beyond his understanding.
“I love you, too,” she said.
Perrin didn’t want to move from that spot. Not then, and not ever if he’d had his way. He settled for dragging the blankets half over them, making a snug little cocoon with the newly married couple in the middle. He drifted off to sleep that night to the lullaby of his wife’s slow and gentle breathing.
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Wedding Night