To read the beginnings, click here.
The people noticed the thorn bush growing and wrapping around the watch tower at the edge of town. Calling upon the newest hero, Prince Philip was summoned.
No one dared to go near the thicket of thorns, and Philip had to dismount from his horse and hack his way through with his sword, his cape quickly becoming tattered. The low-hanging clouds created a slight chill, and he felt some trepidation as he looked back and couldn’t see the path that he had made as the bush had grown back already.
By the time he had made his way to the tower, his arms ached and he was thankful that there was nothing left of his cape, and that his shirt and pants were torn to allow air in. He looked up, and decided it would be easier to climb up the tower then to fight his way through the bramble inside, besides he had a gruesome notion of being suffocating within by thorns.
He sighed, and began climbing, once more cursing the fact that he was a champion – albeit a reluctant one. Maybe once he was at the top he could figure out where the damned shrub was coming from. Thorns wound their way in and out of the windows at the pinnacle, but for one, and he climbed in that one.
He caught his breath. There was his bride – well, she would be in two days time. He chuckled, sheathing his sword. He should’ve known it was the same witch who caused the tower to be overtaken – how many witches could there be anyhow?
The clouds parted, and the sun beamed in through the windows, a sheer curtain reflecting the light, coming from the ceiling down beside Aurora, shielding her from the thorn bush alongside the walls. She was laying in a bed (a bed in the tower? he thought), naked except for a gossamer red sheet draped across her torso. He had never seen her this unclothed before, the sheet rose up to the peaks of her nipples, showed the curve of her tiny waist (corset training? he questioned), and shadowed around her hips, barely covering the tops of her thighs. Her golden hair cascaded around her face like a halo – indeed even the sun’s rays reflected that.
She was asleep – as it often was. Her eyes closed gently, the eyebrows and lashes thick and a slightly darker shade than her tresses. He wondered at the hair between her thighs, not having seen that but felt. Could the witch be any more explicit, he thought, than to provide a bed with a naked beauty, surrounded by thorns so there were no prying eyes?
Still, there wasn’t much room in a tower designed for watching. Already at her feet, he didn’t wish to get near to the thorns along the sides of her bed. He stripped off his boots and pants, trying to stay balanced to not fall, then kneeled at the foot of the bed and took off the remains of his cape and shirt. His skin prickled at the chill, but with the sun out it wasn’t nearly as cold as he expected. He lifted up one of her legs and moved it to the side. As he expected, Aurora didn’t move.
With her legs spread, Philip slid his hands up the outside of her thighs, shifted towards her as he did so, and slid the fabric up around her waist. Her curls were a slight shade darker than her hair, and he parted them with a hand, moving his tongue to her clit, his fingers stroking her entrance. He half anticipated her to take that great gulping breath – a signal he had to come to know as her awakening, but she didn’t stir. Slowly, almost as if afraid to wake her, he began kissing, sucking, tasting her sex, again comparing it to honey when it did start to dampen.
When he had his fill, he moved up, shifting the sheet off to the side, and nipped at her nipples until they hardened. He thought it wondrous that she responded still asleep, and was curious what she would be like when they were married and she was alert the entire time. He shifted further up, slowly running his tongue around her bottom lip – softly parted from her upper one. So soft, her lips, her breasts, he contemplated as he cupped one breast and squeezed. Leaning up on one arm, he guided his throbbing member at her entrance, scrutinizing her face for a flickering of acknowledgment or awareness. There was none. Such a deep spell of slumber.
Slowly, he eased himself into her, and her chest expanded with that breath, her eyes flickered open. He continued pushing, and forced himself against her barrier. She cried out, her eyes immediately welling up with tears, looking confused and accusingly at him.
“Shh, my lovely,” he stopped his advance in her, and leaned down to kiss her gently. “You would not wake up. I was unsure of what it would take,” and hoping for this, he added silently. “I can’t stop now, not for my sake. Please, I must continue.” Tears still streaming from her eyes, she nodded, their noses rubbing as she moved up and down. “Good girl,” he leaned down and kissed her again, and moved the barest amount. She held her breath, but didn’t cry out. It encouraged him, and he eased himself fully into her, then slowly moved out and in again.
Not as focused on her reaction, he became aware of a smell, and turned his head, seeing the thorn branches produce rose after rose of the darkest red. The room was covered in red, the fragrant blossoms dominating the small space. She made a noise, and again his attention was brought back to her. He bent down to kiss her again, and she wrapped her arms around him.
He began moving inside of her faster, picking up a rhythm that felt good to him, briefly concerned that she would probably not be pleased this first time as tender as she was. Her body enveloped around him like a sheath, and he thrusted in and out, trying to last, wondering if he should even try, if it would make it more painful for her. She made a noise against his mouth, her hands gripped into his shoulders, and he felt her tighten. He came instantly, but still forced himself to move a few more times, hoping that she was orgasming. When her hands hit his shoulders, he slowed to a stop.
And then laughed, he couldn’t help it. This hero bit with Aurora was wonderful, and he looked amazing to the town – unknowing of the limits he was allowed to cross. And his engagement to a cursed woman was not the curse he feared. She was gorgeous to look at, pleasing, and passionate (at least half asleep). He leaned to kiss her and announced, “I cannot wait to be married to you.” She blushed, as she often did so easily, and smiled.