For the forth time in as many minutes, Winry reached under her husband’s arm from behind and surreptitiously pinched his ribs.
“Ed, stop ogling those women!” she hissed under her breath, ignoring his yelp of protest over the abuse. When Ed turned to frown angrily at her, Winry glared right back; she wanted him to understand, in no uncertain terms, she was displeased with him.
“Stop doing that!” he hissed back, lurching away from her fingers as they sought his side again, “I don’t mean to look at them, but…but…the fabric those dresses are made from is really amazing.” He jabbed a thumb to the side, “Did you see the red one? The one with the dragons embroidered into the fabric with gold thread? Or the black dress with the red tigers?”
There was a glazed look in Ed’s gold eyes as they followed the gesture and Winry couldn’t suppress the pang of jealousy that rose in her heart. The young bride saw the two women clothed in the dresses Ed had just described standing some distance away. Yes, they were very pretty, beautiful even, but when Winry focused on their garments she realized Ed really was talking about the fabrics, not the women wearing them. Both dresses had high, one-piece collars, body-hugging lines, and short sleeves. Long slits up the sides revealed a tantalizing sliver of skin from high on a woman’s thigh down to the hem, which ended just below the knee. The dresses also sported a generous keyhole below the throat, revealing a portion of their chests and an ample peek of cleavage. A color-coordinated sash tightly tied around the ribs, directly below the breasts, accentuated the womens’ natural attributes by pushing up their bosoms.
Ed fixated on another picturesque woman who walked by on the path across the pond from them and she poked a warning elbow into his side, nearly pushing him off the bench in the process. “Whatever, Ed! It’s still rude to stare!”
The couple, invited by Ling to come to Xing for a visit, was currently sitting on a stone bench in front of the koi pond that graced the center of a rather spectacular, manicured garden within the palace grounds. The invitation from the newly appointed Emperor had come shortly after their wedding and the couple took the trip on one of the first trains into the Eastern country as their honeymoon. Now, the day after their arrival, they were already in the middle of a heated disagreement.
Ed answered with a pout. “What the hell, Winry? I don’t mean anything by just looking at them.” He lowered his gaze to the tranquil water where various, brightly colored fish moved gracefully beneath its surface.
Winry huffed at Ed’s stubbornness, “Behave! You don’t want to do anything that might upset someone—we aren’t familiar with the customs here, and staring could be considered and insult, for all we know.”
Ed sat motionless for a long moment, his face darkening with suppressed anger. When he heaved a sigh and stood, Winry felt a pang of disappointment.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going back to our room,” he grumbled, “Since I can’t sit here without you nagging me, I’ll find a snack and take a nap.”
“Ed!” Winry reached for his arm as he walked away and missed.
He slowed, hesitated, then spoke over his shoulder. “Y’ know, Winry, I was thinking you’d look great in one of those dresses.” The anger in his voice had changed to wistfulness. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and continued on, leaving his bewildered bride sitting by herself.
Winry folded her hands in her lap. Even though she was staring at the pond, the large orange and white carp swam by unnoticed. She was being unfair to Ed. They had come to Xing to spend their honeymoon and have fun, but ended up arguing instead. Deep down she knew his intentions were pure, yet had still given in to misplaced jealousy in order to soothe her ego. She wanted to make it up to him somehow, to let him know that she did trust him, but wasn’t sure how to go about it.
“Hello, Miss Winry,” a soft voice greeted, startling Winry and pulling her from her reflection. LanFan was standing over her, dressed in a casual but very beautiful silk brocade dress. This dress, unlike the other women’s, covered her more completely. The high collar covered her neck and the hem was long, brushing the top of her slippers. There were no revealing slits down the sides and no keyhole to show off her chest. The fabric, a rich, deep royal blue, sported gold flowers embroidered in a repeating pattern; the thread glittered in the sunlight, making the small blossoms look alive.
Winry smiled up at her and nodded. “Good to see you again, LanFan. We didn’t have much of a chance to talk yesterday. It’s been almost two years since I last saw you, back when I fitted you with your new automail.”
The Xingese woman bowed slightly from the waist with respect. “You had just arrived and were very tired,” LanFan reminded her, “It is proper etiquette to take guests to their chambers after such a long journey so they can rest.” She straightened and returned Winry’s smile. “Did you sleep well last night?”
“Yes, thank you for asking,” Winry replied then grinned, “Well, at least as well as I can when Ed snores, anyway.”
Both women laughed at the joke and Winry noticed just how pretty the other woman was; it was easy to see why Ling had chosen her as his consort, aside from the fact there appeared to be genuine affection between them.
“Where is Edward?” LanFan asked, looking about the grounds for the former alchemist.
“We…we had an argument and he went back to our room,” Winry replied, her tone meek. The koi pond captured her attention again.
LanFan nodded thoughtfully and settled onto the bench next to the blonde “I see. He is very quick-tempered, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he can be, but…I-It was my fault this time. He was staring at those women and I got mad,” Winry confessed, nodding at the courtesans that were now leaving the garden. “He was fascinated by their dresses and I took it personally.”
“Ah… I can understand your concern, but those women are not allowed to ‘entertain’ any of the guests.”
Winry emphatically shook her head, “No. No, it’s not like that, Ed wouldn’t…you know…with another woman, but he was so fixated on those dresses and the fabric they’re made out of.” She blushed. “He said I’d look good in one of them.” The later part of her statement was wistful.
LanFan grinned knowingly and laid a comforting hand on Winry’s shoulder. “If he likes them so much—or at least the silk they are made of—maybe I can arrange it so you can have a dress like that. And…perhaps a bit of schooling in the ways of Taun-shu. I think that would make him very happy.”
The Xingese woman giggled modestly behind her natural hand. “Come with me and I’ll take you to someone who can best explain it. I can say it will make your marriage more...interesting.” She rose and beckoned for Winry to follow with a wave of her hand.
Puzzled but curious, Winry followed after her friend.
Ed lay sprawled over the lounging cushions and pillows on the floor and plucked another grape from the bowl of fruit next to him. He chewed without tasting, still irate over Winry’s uncharacteristic behavior earlier that morning. To him, she had gotten mad over nothing; he had only wanted her to notice the silk brocade fabric, but she had automatically assumed he was interested in the women wearing it. Certainly she should know by now that he only had eyes for her and would never consider being with anyone else.
The young groom looked about their accommodations and grimaced; instead of enjoying all this opulence with his wife, he was here by himself and Winry was off to who knew where. Ed would rather she were here to enjoy all this exceptional splendor with him, and it left him exasperated that they were already fighting over something so trivial as jealousy on their honeymoon.
Damn it, where was she, anyway? He hadn’t seen her since the argument this morning. Reaching for another grape, Ed tossed it into the air and caught it in his teeth.
The vibrant silks had been beautiful, and the way they clung, like a shimmering glove, to a woman’s form begged to be touched and caressed. Ed longed to feel the fabric under his fingers, to learn how the texture acted upon his senses, and to savor the warmth of the wearer’s skin beneath.
Specifically, it was Winry’s warm skin he wanted to savor. It was always her he visualized dressed in it, clinging to her curves, accentuating her form. She was already so beautiful, but she would look like a goddess in one of those garments. If she had only understood that little fact, maybe she wouldn’t be so insecure right now and they would be enjoying the day together instead of bickering.
For a long moment, Ed indulged in his fantasies, allowing his imagination to see her in the shimmering silk brocade, the sleek material between them as they made love, sliding against both of their bodies.
His daydreams became a bit too enticing and Ed shook his head to dispel the visions. He took another look around his and Winry’s luxurious accommodations to distract himself from his lecherous thoughts, taking in the richness of the draperies over the high windows, the intricately woven carpets covering the floor, and the ornate but sparse furniture. Instead of an Amestrian-style raised bed, a large, thick, and wonderfully soft futon cushion covered in fine linens graced a corner of the floor in the huge room. Many decorative pillows and cushions occupied the bed and center of the room, making for a comfortable place to simply stretch out and relax.
Judging by the sheer size and extravagant nature of their lodgings, Ed was sure it was intended for only the most honored guests. He grinned. Perhaps being given the nicest suite in the palace was Ling’s way of making up for all the huge food bills he and LanFan rang up during their stay in Amestris several years ago. If that were the case, Ed was going to make sure he made the best of their two-week stay. After all, he could pack a fair amount of food away, too.
Now, if only Winry were here, they could enjoy the room to the fullest; he’d rather spend the afternoon lounging about with her and making love when the whim hit them instead of sitting here alone.
Feh. Women. I just don’t get them.
Perhaps a nap would help pass the time until she returned. After all, he was still a bit worn out from their long trip and a short snooze felt like the perfect way to while away some time. Stretching like a lazy tiger, Ed spread himself over the thick pile of cushions and dropped another grape into his mouth, quickly dispatching it. He closed his eyes and relaxed, delighting in the quiet, softly fragrant environment and the sweet tang of the berry on his tongue.
He was drifting somewhere between awareness and sleep when Ed heard the door open and soft steps advance into the room; it was probably one of the servants bringing the afternoon tea. He made no effort to open his eyes or sit up, too cozy to be bothered moving out of his comfortable position.
“I’ve brought your tea, Edward-san,” a soft, non-Xingese voice announced, cutting through his muzzy consciousness, and Ed had a nagging feeling he had heard it somewhere else before.
“Just set it down anywhere,” Ed mumbled as he lazily flapped a hand and shifted deeper into the cushions. He heard the soft “clink” as the tray was set on the floor next to him and waited for the servant to leave, only to be puzzled when she remained in place behind him.
“Would you like anything else?” she asked, a little huskier this time.
This time Ed positively identified the voice, even though it sounded different than usual: Winry.
His eyes shot open and Ed tipped his head back to behold a sight he had never expected to see; his wife standing over him, dressed in a silk brocade dress similar in design to the ones the courtesans had been wearing earlier that day. He swallowed. Even though he had just finished eating a juicy grape, his mouth was now very dry. ‘Goddess’ didn’t even begin to describe how she looked.
The satiny turquoise material clung to her figure like a second skin, its sheen accentuating and highlighting every curve, every plane on her trim body. Through the long slits that started from the top her hips and ended at the bottom hem of the mid-calf length garment, Ed could see that Winry wore nothing else beneath. The generous keyhole revealed her defined collarbones and the top curve of her compressed breasts, accentuating the cleavage between them. To finish the ensemble, a peacock blue sash was bound snugly beneath her breasts, pushing them up, and accentuating her already full bust. The embroidery on the material was unique, different from any other patterns he had seen, with silver thread woven in a way that created stylized ocean waves.
Ed also noticed that Winry’s hair was styled differently, now piled atop her head in loose curls and partially gathered in a messy bun at the back of her head. A beaded comb held the chignon in place and the tips of several peacock feathers were affixed to it, standing up behind her head like a colorful halo. Winry truly was a heavenly vision and, for an instant, Ed thought he had died and gone to the very place he didn’t believe in.
As the young man’s brain struggled to take in this strange turn of events, he continued to gape up at her. What he saw before him just didn’t seem real. Was this really his strong-willed, independent wife standing before him, dressed in courtesan’s attire, made of the very fabric that triggered a new and strangely odd fetish in him? Or was he asleep and dreaming all this?
Winry offered him a warm smile and carefully lowered herself to kneel next to him. She sat back on her legs then primly folded her hands in her lap, the perfect picture of a proper Xingese woman, and bowed her head in subservience.
“How may I serve you?” she asked as her gaze flicked up at him again. In spite of her inexplicably calm demeanor, there was a sparkle of mischievousness in the depths of her cerulean eyes.
She’s role playing? For me?
“W-Winry?” Ed’s voice was raspy, tight, “Uh…where have you been all day?” His attempt at sounding cross failed miserably.
His wife gave him a peculiar little smile. “I’ve been learning the ways of Taun-shu.”
“How to please a man, Xingese style,” she clarified and plucked a grape from the bowl. “LanFan took me to an attendant that’s practiced in the art of Taun-shu. That’s where I’ve been all day.” Winry placed the berry between her pink-painted lips and pressed it into her mouth with a coy fingertip. Ed felt a surge of blood rush to his groin as his eyes stayed fixed on her every move and remained frozen in place when she bent down to place her lips on his.
Her tongue flicked across his lips, requesting permission to enter, so Ed granted it. They kissed, their tongues toying with the grape Winry had kept intact in her mouth, and she passed it on when she finally retreated. Ed nearly choked on it as she lingered over him just long enough so he could get an eyeful of her emphasized cleavage.
“So,” she said, falling back into her role, “May I enlighten you with one of the many techniques of Taun-shu?”
Although hysterical laughter threatened to bubble up from his throat, Ed managed to hold it at bay. The entire scenario was so outrageous, so unbelievable, and yet so damned erotic.
Despite the absurdity of the situation, the lure of indulging in his wildest fantasy (at least to date) with his wife was far too great to ignore.
He sat up to face her and searched her face for a long moment, trying to decide whether Winry’s actions were sincere or if this was some cruel joke that would only end in his humiliation. As an afterthought, he took a quick scan of the room, almost expecting Ling to pop in at any second and propose that he join in on the game and make it a threesome.
Much to his relief, no interruptions occurred and Ed detected no ill intent in Winry’s gaze; there was only trust and a coy playfulness.
Curiosity now getting the better of him, Ed tentatively nodded his consent. When Winry’s lips canted up ever so slightly to one side a thrill ran down his spine—whatever she had learned, he knew that, in a very short time, he was going to be the one and only recipient.
And he was going to like it. A lot.
When Ed nodded Winry suddenly felt both shy and empowered. She believed her husband would like what she was about to do to him—sex was still fairly new to them both, and to throw this level of expertise upon him seemed like a daunting concept so early in their marriage.
No matter, Winry still wanted to do this for him, to make up for her earlier immature behavior and entertain her husband with her new skills. She would do the best she could to remember the things she had learned despite her apprehension and would, hopefully, rock Ed’s world.
The first step was to appeal to Ed’s fascination with the gorgeous, glossy smooth material.
“Well, Ed? Isn’t there something you’d like to do?”
“You do want to touch this lovely, and very soft fabric, don’t you?”
Ed’s head bobbled in answer, his eyes turning dark, fiery.
Winry pressed forward to hover over him, physically inviting him to touch her. When Ed raised his hands to caress her sides, he hesitated, and she leaned in to speak softly in his ear, “It’s okay. Don’t be afraid.”
The familiar irritation returned to his eyes, temporarily replacing the heat. “Who said I’m afraid?” His lower lip threatened to pout, but Winry arrested the oncoming fit with her mouth. This broke whatever restraint Ed was trying to exercise and he leaned into her, aggressively deepening the kiss and allowing his hands to explore her form. Winry could feel his heat, his passion as his hands roved over her figure, particularly her breasts, with a light, inquisitive touch, sometimes using his fingertips, other times his open palm. His breathing intensified and she could feel his heart thundering in his chest as she reached for his shirt buttons; it really did seem that Ed had a thing for silk. He was usually much more reserved when they made out.
Winry managed to wrestle Ed’s shirt off while still managing to keep her own clothes on, fending off his hands until they found their way beneath the side openings of her dress. She shuddered as he caressed her thighs, taunting her by coming close to, but not quite contacting her femininity, and leaving her aching for more. It would be so easy to give herself over to him, to simply make love to him and not carry out her original plan, but even in the heat of the moment, the young woman maintained her resolve to use her newly-learned talents on her husband.
She indulged him for a bit longer, but once Winry believed Ed had sufficiently whet his appetite with both her and the lustrous textile, she gently pulled away, pushing back his grasping hands, and brusquely breaking from yet another kiss. Ed followed her lips eagerly, sitting up in his need to remain attached to her.
“Winry?” he whined piteously and frowned when she blocked his touch again.
Winry almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“Ed, just trust me. I guarantee you’ll like this.”
He bared his teeth at her, openly displaying his growing frustration. “Dammit, woman, get on with it! This is torture!” He was so damned handsome, sitting there bare-chested, his eyes flashing with contained aggravation.
Winry sucked up her determination.
“Turn around,” she instructed, her voice wavering as her resolve weakened. She hoped she was up to this.
“O-okay” Ed turned his back to her, his movement jerky, uncertain. He trusted his wife, but her request seemed rather odd, considering it was a lot more fun making out while facing one another. Once situated with his back to her, he heard the rustle of cloth just before a strip of colorful silk fabric dropped down over his eyes.
“Hey!” he protested, hands flying up to remove the barrier.
“No touching!” Winry scolded, slapping them away.
“What the fuck, Winry?!”
“Do you trust me?” she asked as she secured the blindfold over his eyes.
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Then just do as I say. You’ll like it, I promise,” she reassured.
For a brief moment, Ed feared that Winry was exacting her revenge for their argument earlier that day, or that his worst fear was coming true, that she was participating in an elaborate joke dreamed up by Ling.
No, she wouldn’t do such a thing, not in this situation. He lowered his hands, just as she spoke again.
“Give me your hands.”
“My hands? What the hell are you up to? This is getting weird—”
“Trust, Edward. Give me your hands.”
With a defeated sigh, he complied and brought his arms around to his back.
“Cross your wrists,” she added.
Ed did so without argument and resisted the urge to pull away when he felt more of the silky cloth being wound around his wrists, securely binding them together.
“Now,” Winry started, letting the word out on an exhale, “Lay back on the pillows again.”
“JUST DO IT!” she commanded, her tone brooking no further arguments.
“Fine!” he grumbled, and flopped back onto the pillows like a petulant child. He wished he could cross his arms over his chest to emphasize just how ticked-off he felt, but of course he couldn’t because they were tied behind his back!
Nothing happened in the following seconds, and time seemed to freeze in place, leaving Ed feeling vulnerable, exposed. His senses became sharper as he waited for any nuance of sound or movement, his ears picking up every little sound and his skin feeling every tiny movement of air. So, when his wife finally did move, the rustle of the crisp brocade sounded loud to his ears, and he also noted that her breathing had become shaky, shallow.
His senses became inflamed as something soft, sleek, and cool, first brushed his cheek, then wound under his chin; the sensation was electrifying, sending a shiver down his spine and straight to his groin. His already uncomfortable erection became painfully harder as the cloth trailed a languid path over his chest, first teasing at his nipples, then swirling over his abs. Ed took in an involuntary gasp as the silk tantalized his navel, just above the waistband of his pants, and start back up his torso.
Over his gasping breath he could hear Winry lean close again, and quivered as a puff of warm air tickled his ear.
“Why, Edward,” Winry purred, “I would never have taken you for someone that would have a fetish like this.”
“Wha—what the hell are doing to me?” Ed knew it was a redundant question, but those were the only words his fuzzy mind could produce as the silk made another pass over his chest. His breath caught in his throat as the cool fabric trailed over the scar on his right shoulder; the skin was still very sensitive to touch, even after four years of healing.
“Why, I’m seducing you.” Winry sounded very self-satisfied and he heard her dress rustle again. When warm lips brushed over one of his nipples, Ed thought he could feel his brain melt and ooze out of his ears. The cloth followed her lips, and he could no longer contain the soft moan that fought past his tightened larynx.
“Please…” came his hoarse entreaty as the cloth worked a sinuous path down his torso once more.
“Please, what, Ed?” He detected a hint of smugness in her voice, even with his brain puddled on the cushions below him.
“Damn it!” Ed ground out in a hiss, “There’s gonna be some serious payback, Winry!”
“I look forward to it,” she cooed, seemingly unimpressed with his empty threat.
The strip of silk dropped onto his abdomen and lay still, no longer manipulated by his unseen tormentor. He heard her shift again, and Ed believed he would spontaneously combust when she tugged at the zipper of his fly. His pulse quickened even more and his breath came and went in deep lungfuls as the zipper was slowly lowered, taunting his straining cock through the soft cotton of his boxers. Then the maddening sensation of her hand palming him through the thin barrier forced a grunt from his throat, and he bucked his hips into her touch, wanting nothing more than to find relief from the almost painful throb in his genitals—only to have his efforts thwarted when Winry’s hand lifted away from his limited reach. This in turn infuriated Ed, and he expressed it with a high-pitched yowl of displeasure.
Winry watched as her husband writhed in a fit of frustration, pulling her hand back farther as his dissonant cry easily filled their cavernous room. Ed had never really grown out of his tendency to be impatient, although he had learned to better control his irascibility over the past two years. She hadn’t really expected him to be tolerant of her current actions, so she wasn’t surprised to see his temper boiling over now.
“Patience, Edward,” she murmured, although comforting him wasn’t her goal.
“Patience my ASS!” he snarled and tried to sit up. Her firm hand in the center of his chest pushed him onto the cushions without mercy, and her exasperated sigh sounded loud in the quiet room as Ed tried to sit up again. Winry drove him back once more, her hand contacting him less delicately this time, and this time he stayed down. Panting through bared teeth, Ed openly displayed both his annoyance and frustration at his thwarted efforts.
“Edward,” she addressed him firmly, bending over him. When he remained still at her no-nonsense attitude, Winry lowered her hand to the prominent swell at the overlap opening of his boxers. “Work with me, will you? Or would you rather I leave you here as you are, nearly naked and tied up, to deal with your little problem alone?”
“I’m not LITTLE!” he spat back.
‘Don’t I know it,’ Winry agreed blissfully, keeping the thought to herself. It was a good thing he couldn’t see the dopey smile on her face or he would be asking questions she would be too embarrassed to answer.
“Are you going to work with me or not?” She punctuated the question with a firm squeeze on the rod of hard flesh under her hand. His response was a strangled gasp as he struggled to thrust into her touch, then Winry pulled away again.
“Well?” she persisted.
At first, Ed ground his teeth then slumped, motionless, back onto the pillows, no longer fighting his bonds or making any attempt to sit up, although his chest rose and fell with each deep breath. Finally, he nodded in acquiescence.
“Alright. Fine. Just get on with it,” he rasped and Winry grinned with satisfaction.
“Good choice,” she reminded him. Winry maneuvered to straddle Ed’s knees and resumed her play by lightly running her short fingernails over her husband’s skin, starting from his pecs, where she teased his nipples, then down his torso until she arrived at the waistband of his pants. Once there, her fingers curved under both his pants and boxers, drawing them down until Ed was forced to lift his hips enough so she could pull his garments down to adequately expose him. His member, now an angry red, sprung forth like a thing alive. Throughout the process, Ed held his breath, occasionally taking air in little, broken, strangled noises. He seemed to sigh with relief once his erection was free.
The stage was set. All she had to do was finish him off and, hopefully, blow his mind.
Ed now knew the meaning of torture. Not the type borne of pain or physical abuse, but the torture of being brought to the very brink of the abyss and being left to twist in the wind. He was certain that whatever Winry was doing to him was beyond any sensible thing a wife should do to a husband…even though, oddly enough, he found himself starting to enjoy it. It occurred to him he would like it a great deal more if she cut him free and let him take her like an enraged beast…
There was the rustle of cloth again and the strip of silk was lifted from his abdomen.
‘Dammit, Winry, I can’t take much more of this shit!’ Ed cursed silently as the cloth made another round over his stomach then disappeared altogether. So, seconds later, when the fabric whispered over his scrotum then wound around his member, Ed nearly lost it. A desperate cry burst from his tightened throat as it was pulled away, swiveling around his cock in one, long sensuous stroke and creating a lingering, sustained caress.
'What the fuck?!'
Winry repeated the procedure, and Ed’s release approached. The fire built quickly, but he was still denied orgasm; it was absolutely maddening.
'Please! Please! Just please—'
Then, as he expected the cloth to return and bring him to what possibly could be the most glorious orgasm of his life, it disappeared, leaving him high and dry once again.
"You evil—" Ed snarled with a roar and fought against his bonds with renewed ferocity. Winry barked his name in exasperation, reminding Ed not to kick too much with his legs; he might be unhappy with her but still didn’t wish to harm her.
He wrenched, violently straining against his bindings and—wait a minute—had the strip of silk binding his hands just given ever so slightly? Another toss of his body, and an energetic, decisive pull on the restrictive scarf…
He was free!
His fiendish laugh echoed in throughout the room as he tore the blindfold from his eyes and lunged upright.
She slipped the cloth from Ed’s member and his following tantrum nearly resulted with Winry being tossed onto the pillows. She shifted her weight onto his legs, trying to keep him pinned, only to have him struggle even harder.
“Ed! If you’d just play along—!” She never finished, instead falling into stunned silence as his hands shot out from beneath his torso to rip the blindfold from his eyes. Even as her husband’s wicked laughter rang in her ears, Winry’s brain still couldn’t process the sudden turn of events, not even when he bolted upright and grasped her by her shoulders.
'But…but…I know I tied him up!'
Her squeak of surprise was genuine as Ed lunged forward in what had to be a remarkably acrobatic move for a man whose legs were, for all intensive purposes, bound by his trousers and have what must be a painfully solid erection. He threw her onto her back with a victorious growl and leered down at her like a starving animal.
Unfortunately for Winry, Ed hadn’t considered in advance where she should land. The back of her head and shoulders made solid contact with the polished wooden floor, leaving the lower half of her body elevated on the pillows.
“Ow!” Her protest was forced from her lungs along with her breath as it was pressed out of her. She glowered at her husband over his uncharacteristic roughness, “Edward what do you think you’re—!“ Again, words escaped her when she saw the scorching, wild light in his golden eyes. He crouched over her, hands at either side of her head, and in leaned closer.
“Payback,” he said with an oddly calm voice. He eagerly pushed a hand between them to pull at the front flap of her dress, pushing it aside. He touched her intimately, testing to see if she were ready for him. Of course she was; all his vocalizations and the sight of his decidedly buff body had long since put her in the mood. “Can’t wait any longer.” His latter statement carried a note of desperation to it.
For a second or two, Winry considered surrendering to Ed’s need, or at least until she felt him position himself for entry. Several alarms went off in her head, all screaming at her about one singularly important detail pertaining to unprotected sex with her husband.
“Wait a minute, Ed!” She gave a frantic push at his chest only to find him immovable. “What about protection! We aren’t ready to start a family yet, are we?”
Ed paused for only the briefest second, “Right now, I don’t care. Whatever happens, happens. I need you now!” Without any further preamble, he gave a decisive roll of his hips and filled her.
It took a mere five very fierce lunges and Ed released into her. Winry clung to him for dear life as she rode out Ed’s frenetic onslaught. His desperate cry filled her ears and his face screwed up as if he were in pain. He pressed deep into her, then collapsed in a trembling, gasping heap. An all-consuming tension remained in his body long afterwards, his tremors so violent that Winry became concerned.
Finally, Ed relaxed, gave a throaty groan, and stirred. He pushed himself onto his elbows and offered her a very languid grin. “Damn it, woman,” he breathed as he calmed, “That was definitely off the charts. Do you think they’d mind if you kept that dress?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Relived, Winry reached up to push his sweaty bangs back from his face. “The dress—and the Taun-shu lessons—are wedding gifts from Lan Fan. I take it you like them?” When he bobbled his head again she smiled. Then her smile turned wry. “I thought as much. You haven’t been this hair-triggered since our first time, Edward. I think you set a new record for the shortest time spent having sex.”
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Ed muttered with a contented grin that was anything but apologetic. “I’ll make it up to you when my legs and arms don’t feel like wet noodles.”
“Yes, you will. And I hope you get your strength back soon, because with half of me still on the cushions, your weight is really getting uncomfortable.”
Another groan and Ed rolled off to settle next to her. Winry pulled herself onto the floor then sat back on her legs. She became mindful of her dress when she felt a trickle travel over her inner thighs, and pulled the fabric from beneath her knees.
'I’ll probably end up pregnant for sure. I just didn’t expect him to get free and jump me or I would have taken some extra precautions.'
“So…,” Ed started with a dramatic flair, breaking into her thoughts, “Is there something like ‘Taun-shu’ lessons for men?”
Winry blinked at her husband, who was now struggling to pull his boxers and trousers back onto his hips despite the fact he was on his back. When she didn’t immediately respond, he turned a playful, cocky grin on her. She let out a gleeful laugh, forgetting her concerns for the moment.
“Actually, they do, Ed. Why? Are you interested?” Now it was her turn to waggle her eyebrows.
Ed finished straightening his clothes, pulled himself upright, and settled next to his wife. He slipped an arm about her shoulders, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “Sign me up first thing in the morning! Right now, I’m more interested in finding out what other Taun-shu techniques you’ve learned.”
Winry shivered as the heat returned to his golden eyes. “You don’t mind if I torment you again?”
His chuckle was filled with dark promise. “Not as long as the end result is the same.” He leaned in closer and softly kissed her lips.
His stomach grumbled again and he frowned as momentary faintness overtook him; he was near starvation! This private meal had been arranged in honor of Edward and his very beautiful wife, Winry, to welcome them to the palace! Where could they be?
Emperor Ling looked over the sumptuous banquet laid before him, then at the two conspicuously empty cushions on the other side of the table. Here he sat, with all these tempting dishes of fried rice, pork dumplings, orange chicken, beef stir fry (and too many other dishes to mention!) before him, and couldn’t partake of one bite until his guests took their place at the table.
The young monarch turned to his consort, who sat at his left, for an explanation. “LanFan, where are the Elrics? Were they given the correct time to attend?” Ling sighed and slumped over in mock exhaustion. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer. I’m going to die of starvation!”
LanFan squirmed uneasily on her cushion, “Yes, they were told when to be present, My Liege. I believe we should begin; Mr. and Mrs. Elric may be otherwise detained and unable to attend.”
Ling snapped straight and frowned at his chosen one, “Detained?” He gestured with a wide sweep of his arm at all the delectable dishes that were rapidly growing cold, “Edward was looking forward to this feast! What would he possibly prefer to do that’s better than eating all this delicious food!”
“Um…” The young woman seemed reluctant to speak.
“What is it, LanFan?” His eyebrows pinched together when he realized she was withholding information. “You know where they are, don’t you?”
She pinked up and looked at her empty plate. “Yes,” she finally admitted in a meek voice.
“Well?” he drawled, prompting an explanation.
“I—I suggested Miss Winry take Taun-shu lessons, as a wedding gift to her and Edward. I do not believe they have left their room all afternoon.” She looked up at him, worry dominating her pretty features, “Was it improper for me to suggest she learn the Taun-shu arts?”
As all the implications set in, Ling started to laugh. “No, LanFan, it wasn’t improper; I think it was a wonderful thing to do. I mean, it’s not like Taun-shu is a secret Xingese art, after all.” Then his grin turned devious. “Perhaps we should join them and make sure they are performing the techniques correctly!”
LanFan took firm hold of his arm as he started to rise and pulled him back onto the cushion. He turned to find a stern finger shaking in his face. “No,” came her firm reprimand, “They do not need our help! This is their honeymoon and we will not interfere with their time alone together!” She scowled to drive her point home.
Very put out, Ling pouted with exaggerated disappointment. “All right,” he conceded, “I won’t disturb them, if that’s what you wish. But it would have been a great deal of fun to help them along.”
“Only to you, not to Edward or Winry, or even me!” She jabbed her finger at the table before them, “Eat, and you will forget all about this silly notion!” She then shrunk down and added “My Liege” to her reprimand.
Ling couldn’t argue with her logic and reached for a heaping bowl of spring rolls. After taking nearly half, a devious grin lit his face as he handed her the remainder.
“Then maybe we can practice a little Taun-shu on our own, tonight?”
LanFan’s smile was just as devious. “Yes, perhaps we can.”