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She froze with fists in the air and turned, all sweetness and light, giving me a wave.
Iris chortled. “Absolutely your daughter.”
“Don’t know about that,” I said, reaching up her skirt again to feel my cum trickling out of her. “You’re pretty fucking wild yourself, too.”
She shifted her lips to one side, nibbling on the lower one, working up a reply for me. But before we could get to the finer points of which of us was a bigger handful, we heard Bonny call out. “A baby boy!”
The kids took off running, and Iris and I weren’t far behind. We were just in time, all of us, to see the calf totter awkwardly to his feet, tripping over himself to get to his mother’s udders to drink. I ran my hand over my jaw to stifle my groan, and Iris gave me a knowing glance. Randal and Maggie were thrilled by the new calf, and sat cross-legged near Bonny, asking a thousand questions a minute.
My mind, though, was still in the barn. Whenever I wasn’t inside Iris, I was thinking about how get back inside her. So once the excitement died down and the calf fell asleep, I said, “Alright, you two. Get your stuff. Your mother and I need to get back to the castle.”
Iris turned to me, furrowing her brow to say, We do?
I nodded at her. Every pregnancy made her even more beautiful somehow. And the more beautiful she became, the more I wanted to punish her for it. “The two of us have a few things we need to do together.”
We were alone together in our dungeon. No interruptions, no bullshit. Just us. Iris wore green—a dress I’d had made for her pregnancies, for when we were alone. It was the same color she’d worn the first time I’d ever seen her, but this was a fuckload less modest. Low cut to show off her milky, swollen tits, with a long slit up the front that went past her pussy, so that I could always see it. And always get to it.
I’d fucked her hard all afternoon and evening. She’d come until she was too exhausted to come again. After that, I’d watched her dress for me and made sure she ate well. We’d both eaten, taking what we wanted from the banquet table that I made sure was always ready for us when we finished one of our dungeon sessions.
She was still eating and had just picked up a red apple. My fucking favorite thing to watch her eat. She ate it with that same abandon she’d eaten the apple when I first saw her at the harvest festival, now seven years ago—that same give-a-fuck enjoyment, with the juice dribbling down her chin.
So much had happened between then and now, most of all since I married her. A month after young Randal was born, my father passed away. What a gift, he’d said, to be able to meet his grandson, a future heir to the throne. I missed him more than I’d ever expected. But I felt him with me, every day, and I was grateful that he passed away peacefully with Iris and me, right by his side.
The kingdom was prospering under me, same as it had under him. With all that prosperity, there was money and time to make things stronger—roads, bridges, and our army. All the things that take a kingdom from good to great. Iris, though plenty busy with the kids, still studied under some of our physicians, helping to found a school for midwives, both for humans and for livestock. She still went back to the farm, whenever she could, to help Bonny with the animals. On those days when she went to help, she dressed like a milkmaid all over again, so that she could move through Aramoor unnoticed. It drove me fucking wild, every single time.
As for Queen Patara, she caught pneumonia in the castle prison the winter after her half-assed grab for the throne. Iris tried to treat her, as did all of our physicians. But there was nothing to be done. Water in the lungs was what killed her, they said. But Elaina, the healer who raised me, said it was a poisoned soul that did her in. Maybe both did it together. She was buried quietly, in a night funeral, in a plot far away from my father.
Some had expected her family to retaliate against Aramoor for what I’d done to her. It never happened though. I think, in the end, the alliance and peace between us was as good for them as it was for us, and they let things go quietly.
Iris finished the last bite of her apple and placed the core in an empty bowl on the table. She sighed heavily, happily, and rubbed her round belly, smiling sweetly as she looked down at my baby inside her.
