Page 32 of His Dark Delights
Ren
Days stretched on in a relentless march, dragging me through the monotonous routine of kingship.
Continuous council gatherings were torturous affairs, a storm of annoying voices and grating opinions.
The days were the worst part of my new routine, yet among the uproar of the palace and the weight of duty, one thing brightened my time and eased my nights.
Lilly had calmed since our tryst in the garden.
A presence within the palace that both soothed and tormented.
The days were a trial, each one testing my patience as I itched to return to her.
Navigating the intricacies of politics and governing prickled and sat uncomfortably within me.
Surrounded by a chorus of expectations and demands, she was there at the end of each day to wash the burdens from me .
I spent my nights wrapped in her embrace.
Her arms, her body, her cunt, a welcoming haven from the tumult raging around us.
In near silent hours, only broken up by moans and dulcet sighs, I found the peace that had eluded me for years.
Her warmth, her inherent floral scent, the perfect swells of her breasts rising and falling with each intake of breath.
Her essence, the very core of her, consumed my thoughts at all hours we were apart. An unshakable obsession.
And the council, when they weren’t droning endlessly about their excitement for the upcoming ball, were voicing concerns and thoughts about alliances and the strategy of the war against the fae.
A war that had claimed so much of me yet relentlessly demanded more.
Through it all, I sensed Lilly’s ongoing disapproval like a shadow haunting my steps.
My sweet girl resented the war, I knew. She had a gentle heart, one full of compassion and empathy.
One of the many things I adored about her.
But too gentle for war and violence. Too soft to accept the cost of necessary bloodshed.
She had experienced loss already, and any more might break her.
She hated it, even if she kept her mouth firmly sealed as of late.
I saw it in her eyes when I joined her at the end of the day.
A silent, stewing anger as I spoke of battle plans and scouting missions until I shut up and distracted her with my tongue between her legs.
As king, it was my responsibility to face the fae threat.
Even if it meant infuriating the woman I loved.
Maneuvering the battlefield of tension between us was preferable to the conflict with the council and Cecily.
I found solace in knowing that each day ended with Lilly in my arms, sated and falling asleep, with my cum dripping from her cunt.
Caught in her orbit, relaxed in her presence, the weight of the crown on my brow lessened.
She was my refuge, her body my home, and I returned to her night after night.
Gods, they were the best days I’d had in the palace since my initial arrival.
There had been endless days of wallowing in sorrow and exploiting the gifts of kingship.
Women, wine, food, gold, anything and everything at my disposal.
Though none of it compared to the relief of tension and flood of euphoria that flowed through me buried in Lilly’s arms.
Nights were our refuge, a world apart from the demands of court.
During those precious hours, I finally forgot the anger and pressing rage inciting my need for war.
All that mattered was the feel of her skin against mine, the sound of her mewling whimpers—a melody that rippled along my spine and coiled around my heart.
Yet even in those secret, stolen moments in the dark, I sensed the intangible barrier of unspoken concerns hanging between us.
I needed Lilly in a way that bordered on madness.
As much as I wanted to tell her everything, give her anything she wanted, I held myself back.
My feelings for her would be my undoing, and if I caved to her soft-hearted desire, my mother would never receive her justice.
Lilly was my strength, but she could easily unravel me.
As the palace buzzed with anticipation for the upcoming ball, a tangled knot of unease and intrigue grew within me.
Servants rushed around as manic as chickens with their heads cut off, blurring past me as they rushed to arrange decorations and polish every inch of the palace until it sparkled.
The ballroom gradually transformed under Cecily’s keen eye for splendor.
Among the preparations, my mind drifted to Lilly again and again.
She spent her days with Mrs. Gibbons, sitting through lessons of etiquette and dancing.
Though she’d frowned at the initial suggestion, Lilly hadn’t backed down from the challenge.
There was something about her lately that captivated me; a sort of resilience and determination swirled as intangible and fleeting as smoke.
And her afternoons passed in the garden, finding solace with that cow and the other creatures from her farm.
Often, when I joined her in the queen’s chambers connected to mine at the end of the day, I found her in the bath washing soil, grass, and flower petals from her skin.
A creature of nature and spring beauty. A wild thing that had stolen my heart and buried it in the earth.
A woman of duality, who walked with poise and elegance in the waking hours and succumbed to the call of nature on a whim.
And, to my delight, but no surprise, her tutors praised her quick grasp of her lessons. Dancing came easily, as if she’d been born for it. Lilly was a testament to what it meant to be a royal. Like she was made for it—born with regality in her blood.
Unbidden imaginings crept into the crevices of my mind.
Dreams of Lilly in the ballroom, on the dance floor, a vision of purity and refinement.
Her presence would light up the room brighter than the sun and draw every gaze.
I’d grown to loath the events, but with her there I might indulge in the frivolity for once.
Then the thought of Lilly surrounded by fawning aristocrats and social climbers within the court, of greedy gazes following her movements, filled me with a choking surge of possessiveness. A feeling both infuriating and intoxicating.
Lilly was mine. Mine to adore, to touch, to protect.
Yet as the ball grew closer, I couldn’t shake the creeping plague of a thought that she was as evasive and unknowable as the fleeting secrets in her eyes.
Beneath the surface, a storm brewed. One of questions and doubts, of boundaries on the edge of war and peace.
So, I endured the days, starving for the nights when I could hold Lilly in my arms once more and forget the world rife with uncertainty and conflict. And no matter the cost, no matter what I had to do, I would keep Lilly by my side—where she belonged.
The grandeur of the ballroom had always been a spectacle to behold.
Gleaming sapphire stone walls, opulent chandeliers bathing the room in a buttery glow, and the air was thick with the scent of flowers and expensive perfumes.
It all mingled together into a heady concoction that clung to the senses and sparkled behind the eyes.
A kaleidoscope of colors swirled across the floor in the form of finely dressed guests, their placating laughter echoing off the marble floors.
A night of revelry; of whispers and hands exchanging alliances and power.
I stood there, their king, the Fairy Butcher, looking down my nose at them all.
I’d no desire to attend the frivolous event, the tiresome display of opulence that mocked those who lived in the lower levels of the kingdom.
I was a stranger to these people, even after two years, my appearance was only a pretense.
Duty bound me to attend, to present myself as some symbol of the kingdom, a pillar touting the endurance of the Carnifex lineage.
With a smile plastered on my face, I nodded at the swarms of nobility fawning over their king and attempting to slip their personal agendas into the conversations.
A game of sycophants and deceit masked my indulgent smiles.
Vapid and mindless creatures wove their webs around me as I stood there, eyes scanning the crowd.
A modicum of relief smoothed the edges of my nerves as I caught sight of a familiar figure.
A dream come to life, a picture of grace and pure desire, dressed in a flowing gown of emerald silk that draped over her curves as tight as a second skin.
Lilliana. My captor and savior, in equal measure.
My solace and my tormentor. Her slender form maneuvered the curious crowds with a mask of confidence.
And her laughter, like the ringing of bells, dampened the music and delighted me beyond reason.
She’d arrived only moments ago and already a veritable herd of hungry, greedy suitors swarmed her.
I had taken her from her simple life, from the farm that had been her world, and thrust her into the opulence of the palace.
It was for her own safety, to keep her close in a world rife with danger.
Deeper than that, I needed her, like a moth yearned for the flame, drawn to her light even as it threatened to consume me.
Our eyes locked across the expanse of the lavish, crowded hall. Something glinted in her eyes as she regarded me.
My heart skipped a beat.
Her gaze cut away, going to the nobleman at the center of her attention. My stomach sank and clenched when she accepted his hand and allowed him to lead her onto the dancefloor.
Something primal and wicked flared within the knots forming in my guts. A slither snake of envy and venom, a rising snake rearing back in preparation to strike. A fire of possessiveness swelled higher, sparking on the cinders of greed I struggled to quench.