Page 30
ALISTAIR
To my relief and sorrow, my father’s funeral takes precedence over public wedding celebrations, leaving me and Elinor largely to ourselves for the first few weeks of our marriage.
Rather than public parades and feasts, Belterre City is swathed in black crepe with flags flown at half-staff, where they shall remain for the next three months, in accordance with tradition.
Giving us ample time to get to know one another before having to become more public figures. Ours is a quiet honeymoon…mostly.
To my immense gratification, Elinor has quickly found her confidence in the bedroom. Which is where I would much rather be than in my throne room—mine now, no more blasphemous pretending. Alas. The obligations of kingship have not abated simply because of my father’s passing.
With the fae hiding place no longer a secret, all manner of disruptions have bubbled up, and all are laid at my feet—a tenfold increase in the number of fae beasts roaming about, no longer content to be mostly confined to Thorn Mountain; farmers worried that they won’t be able to compete with magically-enhanced crops; merchants complaining that fae-crafted goods are unnaturally superior to their own.
Even the soldiers are complaining that they can’t win in a battle against the fae and their magic.
Meanwhile, every single person in Belterre is scheming how to get their hands on the stuff.
I can’t decide whether to keep magic illegal or decriminalize possession of it.
As Elinor points out, I can’t imprison most of the country.
Yet Briar is protective of her beasts, and surprisingly, so is Killian.
Ironic for him to fall for a human woman cursed with magic.
In any event, neither of them wants their precious fae beasties hunted the way they were before the fae abandoned us.
All in all, the past three hours of hearing pleas from the peasantry for protection in various forms has left me in a state of profound frustration. I know the perfect solution. I just need to summon my wife and get rid of literally everyone else.
“Enough for today. We shall pick up again next week.”
Grumbles fill my throne room.
“In two days,” I relent. Two days isn’t so long to have to secure lodgings in hopes of laying your troubles at the feet of a king. Mollified, the petitioners depart. “The rest of you, get out. Send for my queen.”
I have taken to calling Elinor my queen in public, delayed coronation notwithstanding.
It’s not for anyone’s benefit but hers. She requires time to adjust to new developments.
Though she might technically be a princess by marriage now, she still thinks of herself as a servant.
The more she hears that she is royalty, the sooner she’ll begin to believe it.
Or that’s what I tell myself. A possessive part of me just likes to say it as often as possible. Mine. My wife. My queen.
The door opens softly. My pulse quickens at her silhouette emerging from the shadow. The door clicks closed.
“You requested my presence?” Elinor says, arching one auburn brow. Her firelight hair is coiled upon her head like a blazing crown. I barely notice the gold tiara woven into those thick strands, winking at me when it catches the light.
The dull black mourning gown is hideous, but its severity only heightens her delicate beauty, austere but for her flaming-red hair.
I have had gowns made for her in every color of the rainbow.
She refuses to wear them until the mourning period for my father is finished.
My only nod to the passing of my sire is the muted hue of my ensemble—light gray trousers, a charcoal waistcoat, and a black jacket.
Surprisingly, I do mourn the loss, not that I want to discuss it.
Right now, I need something more life-affirming.
I beckon Elinor closer. “Kneel.”
A slight smile tips the corners of her pretty lips upward as she falls to her knees, arranging her dreadful black skirt around her like a puddle of spilled ink.
“Show me your tits.”
Her brows arc in surprise, but her eyes darken. Wordlessly, she reaches behind her to tug free the laces. I vow I’ll acquire magic that rids one of cumbersome clothing at the wave of one’s hand, as soon as I can find a way to procure it. For now, I’ll take pleasure in Elinor’s slow tease.
She takes her time loosening the lacings, shrugging one shoulder out of her bodice, then the other, and dipping her hands into her bodice to tug her breasts over the edge.
“Anything else, my liege?” she teases. “Or do you want me to kneel here while you paint a portrait of my naked bosom?”
“That could be interesting.” I trace my chin, thinking. It would take me months to complete such a painting, if I possessed an ounce of artistic talent, which I don’t. An intriguing idea nonetheless.
She crawls up the two steps of the dais and settles herself at my feet, folding her hands across my knees and resting her chin on them. “Was it a difficult audience today?”
Her tone could have been cloying, yet her honeyed sympathy is a balm I desperately needed. Her position intensifies the needy impulse that prompted me to demand her presence here in the first place. My cock kicks. Her aquamarine gaze falls to the ridge in my trousers.
“Very trying.” I bring one hand to her soft hair and tug one fiery strand free. The red is a shocking contrast to the dull gray of my pants. Enraptured by the way it glides over the fabric, I tug another tendril free.
“Poor king,” she purrs, stroking my thigh. I encounter a pin and tug it free. She brings her hand higher, teasingly close to my aching erection. Impatiently, I take her hand and place it over the bulge. She smiles and squeezes lightly.
Shifting forward on her knees, she takes her time unfastening my belt and extracting my cock. I take the opportunity to pluck pins from her tresses with abandon, until hair falls in unruly waves down her back. I take her crown and toss it aside.
Elinor strokes my shaft and taps the head against her soft lips. “Tell me about what happened.”
She licks the underside. My hips tip mindlessly, seeking the wet heat of her mouth. I am denied. I’ll get what I want when she’s ready, and not a moment before.
“The farmers think the fae will play favorites. Bless those who can afford to pay for their magic and wither the crops of those who cannot.” I grunt. “They expect me to do something about it.”
“Hmm.” She peers up at me through her lashes. Need coils through me, a sharp pinch of anticipation. “What do you think you’ll do?”
“What is there to do? I can’t control the fae. The people will worship them in an attempt to win their favor?—”
She cuts me off by sucking me deep into her mouth.
My mind blanks. I brush her hair away from her face, watching her take me deep as damp heat and pressure encase my cock.
Elinor works quickly, covering the part of my shaft she can’t fit with her hand and stroking.
Within moments, I’ve threaded my fingers into her red waves to hold her where she is.
I tighten my grip as she sucks harder, tugging at the roots as the climax claims me.
The last thing I see before my vision hazes black is her bright hair over my thighs.
“I love your hair.”
She sits back on her heels with a soft chuckle. Her pale skin is flushed, her cheeks reddened, her rosy nipples taut. “Is that all?”
“Get up here.” I drag her into my lap. “I adore your tits. If it didn’t mean half the kingdom would see you, I’d have all your dresses custom-made to show them off.”
“Sounds chilly.”
“I’d keep you warm.” I grasp her bottom and drag her closer, squeeze one breast and suck the other between my lips.
She arches into my touch, her hands in my hair.
Although Elinor remains shy about speaking what she desires, she’ll tell me with her body.
Right now, her little pants and tugging at my hair is telling me to get closer.
I rake my teeth over the sensitive bead and pinch its match. She inhales sharply and clutches me to her, so I do it again. Then I abandon her breast with my hand and work my way down the lacings until I can free her of the hideous black dress. She helps me strip it over her head and toss it aside.
Elinor sits back with a coy smile as I take in her underthings. Pink and gold roses are stitched into the gleaming silk. My ragged breath hitches. I’d barely begun to soften, but the sight of her kiss-bruised lips and pert nipples poking over the cups instantly has me as hard as a rock.
“Where did you get this?” I growl. The rose decorations spill down her waist onto the filmy underskirt, with green and gold accents around her waist. Her legs are visible through the sheer fabric, bracketing mine on the wide throne seat.
“You gave it to me. It was in the boxes.”
“Huh.” I don’t remember choosing this. Apparently, telling your servants to bring your wife the best in the kingdom pays off handsomely for both parties. I shall have to keep that in mind for the future. A little surprise for both of us.
“The mourning gowns are so dull. I couldn’t bear not to put on something more cheerful underneath.
It is, after all, our honeymoon.” She sits firmly on my lap, riding the ridge of my cock.
Silk drawers press against my skin. I hold her gaze and work my hand beneath the skirt.
She lifts her hips to give me access. My fingers slide across her nether lips. Her eyes flutter closed.
“That’s right, my queen. We are on our honeymoon, and your only duty is to take your pleasure with me as often as humanly possible.”
Wet sounds and breathless pants fill my ears. I could listen to the music of her climbing toward her peak for hours. This was where my mind was all during the audience with Belterre’s farmers, when I should have been focused on their problems.
There is only one solution for this distraction—to take Elinor to bed until this possessive need to fill her with my seed passes. If I could get the world to leave us alone for a proper honeymoon, perhaps I wouldn’t hiss and spit like an angry cat every time I’m pried away from her side.
But I have her now, and I am determined to make up for the night of the ball when she asked for something she wasn’t ready for, and I foolishly tried to give it to her.
“You’re insatiable,” she murmurs.
“That’s right.” I apply my thumb to the nub at the apex of her sex over the damp silk. The cadence of her shallow breaths quickens further. Her thighs tense around mine, her eyes flutter to closed, and she grinds her hips against my fingers.
“You come so prettily,” I murmur, watching her return to herself. “I could watch you come undone for hours.”
Self-consciously, she brushes her hair over one shoulder, her gaze flickering to mine. “You don’t have to watch. You can participate.”
“I intend to. You so kindly took the edge off. Now I can fuck you properly, my queen.”
High color stains her cheeks. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as my wife blushing when I whisper filthy things to her. I cup her cheek with my free hand to bring her gaze back to mine. She covers it with her own and turns to press a kiss to my palm.
Beneath her skirt, I tuck my fingers into the gusset of her silk panties and rip a hole in the center. Startled aquamarine eyes flash to mine.
“You ruined them.”
“I’ll buy you more. Then I’ll ruin those, too,” I all but growl at her.
I need to be inside of her. Now. I refuse to let a scrap of silk stand in my way.
Elinor rises on her knees, balancing with her hands on my shoulders, allowing me to free my cock and slick the head along her entrance.
Her grip tightens as I thrust upward and push her hips down.
A low moan gusts out of her. I’m enveloped by her scent.
A womanly tang of salt beneath the sweetness of roses. The smell of home.
Her breasts bounce inches from my face as I slam her down over my greedy cock. Frustrated, I bend her closer until she’s draped over me, hovering inches off my lap while I take my pleasure.
“Come for me, my queen,” I grit out, determined to hold out until she climaxes.
Elinor appeases me by shuddering against my chest, her face buried in my hair, scraping my nape with her nails as she pulses around my cock.
Violent pleasure rockets up my spine, hot and blinding, never-ending yet over too soon.
That was the release I needed.
Slowly, I return to myself, breathing her in with my face buried in the crook of her neck. Her fingers play with my hair, sweetly teasing.
“I love you,” she whispers against my temple. “If there is anything I can do to help you carry this burden?—”
“You do. You are.” I exhale, spent, savoring the shape of her clavicle with my lips. “You are my escape, Elinor. All you need to do is keep loving me. Despite my flaws. With you, I’m safe enough to tell the truth.”
She sits back. Dampness floods my thigh as I slide inelegantly from her, wincing at the kiss of air on my wet cock.
“And give you heirs,” she reminds me.
I honestly don’t care if she never does.
She is enough. But she wants a family, and I am trying my damnedest to give her everything she desires.
After carrying the load of her ungrateful stepfamily for so many years, it is my mission to provide her with luxuries she cannot even imagine, much less ask for.
I’m about to tell her that heirs are optional when she presses a finger to my lips to quiet me.
“Speaking of which, we seem to have succeeded rather quickly on that score.”
My mouth falls open against her skin. A feeling I don’t know how to describe overwhelms me. Wonder. Tenderness. Abject terror. Pride.
“You’re not serious?”
Worry pleats her brow. “I know it’s early, and the timing is awkward with the country in turmoil. The pregnancy might not necessarily work out. But I thought you should be the first to know, Alistair. Is it all right?”
I clutch her with my arms tight around her back and tangled in her hair. “More than all right, my queen. I have loved you since the moment I saw you in rags. I cannot imagine anything better than making a life with you.”
Living. Not just existing, but fully alive to all the possibilities of the world. That is the gift Elinor has given me.
“You’ll be a wonderful father,” she murmurs. I chuckle.
“Something no one would have said about me a month ago.” I have changed. I am proud of the ways I have changed. Lies may still be my mother tongue, but she has taught me to speak a new language. However we are tested in the coming years, we will thrive. Together.