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When I heard and saw the knob on the door turn, I knew my supposition of it being an animal was incorrect. I was definitely about to be confronted by someone on two legs. I only hoped they were benevolent.
As the wooden slab swung in, the light of the full moon outside haloed and silhouetted a tall and broad form. From what I could see in the shadows, they were otherwise occupied with retrieving something from a bag slung across their chest and hadn’t yet realized they weren’t alone. I remained silent and still, simply observing as the figure took two steps through the doorway, the light of the candles finally reaching the fine features of his handsome face.
The candlelight must have registered then, for he looked up, an expression of shock and alert rising. He dropped the bundle he had retrieved from his pack and immediately drew his sword from its scabbard. When he did, the pommel and blade glinted in the fire’s light, and I saw the design, the craftsmanship that had been captured in countless artistic renderings and on the pages of books spread across the kingdom. I was sitting in front of none other than Elian Da’Neer, current King of Atlantia.
Even in the low light of the room, his black hair glinted blue, and despite the look on his gorgeous face—now shifting a bit to anger—his straight nose, high cheekbones, and proud jaw that appeared carved from granite lit something within me.
He still had yet to speak, so I gently and quietly laid my blade on the table and stood slowly, raising my hands in front of me, palms out in a placating gesture.
I bowed my head and addressed him, calling him Your Majesty. That seemed to disarm him a bit, and I saw his rigid stance in his long, lean, and toned body relax a fraction. I went on to say that I meant no harm or disrespect and that I was merely a weary traveler looking for a place to rest for the night. I added that I had every intention of compensating whoever owned the cabin for my time spent. I pointed to the bag of coins I’d left on the mantel.
The King sheathed his sword and took a few more steps into the room, shutting the door behind him and closing out the chill from the autumn night beyond. While that should have put me at ease, the room seemed somehow smaller with the two of us now closed within it. He had a strange pull about him that drew you in and held you captive, though most enjoyably. I swallowed hard and met his golden-amber gaze.
He asked me my name, and I replied, putting as much respect into my tone as I could muster. Surprisingly, what I saw cross his features next wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t confusion or uncertainty, it was recognition. He asked if I was the Seer, one of the newly created Council Elders, and I confirmed. That seemed to disarm him entirely for some reason. He picked up what he’d dropped earlier, set his pack aside and pulled out the chair opposite me, settling into it with a weary sigh and gesturing for me to sit across from him in the spot I’d vacated earlier.
He joked and asked if I planned to use the blade on the table, gracing me with a devastating smile that had my insides quivering as he flashed a set of dimples that made my heart skip a beat. He was clearly a descendant of the Court of Vathi with features so fine. I returned his grin and dropped the dagger into the bag I had hung over the back of the chair.
I asked the King if he wanted some wine. When he agreed gratefully, I pulled out my skin and extra cup and poured him a generous helping, topping off my serving, as well.
He asked what I was doing in his hunting cabin. So, I told him about my wandering soul and thirst for adventure and how I regularly used out-of-the-way shelters to rest during my journeys, making sure to compensate my unknowing hosts generously.
As the night wore on, and the wine continued to flow, Elian became more comfortable—he even told his guards to set up camp farther into the forest. I felt myself relaxing, as well. I had seen him, of course, knew of his legacy, how he’d summoned a god and singlehandedly smoothed things over between the wolven and the Atlantians after the war. Still, I’d never had the pleasure of being in his company except from a distance and for a very short time.
As is my way, even without libations, my comments turned flirty, and my innocent touches became more numerous and intentional. I could tell that Elian was not unaffected. I caught him swallowing thickly on more than one occasion, his Adam’s apple bobbing and casting shadows on his graceful neck.
With the wine working its way through my insides and the candle flames and body heat warming my skin, I found myself shedding layers of clothing as the night progressed. He had done the same, simply making himself more comfortable, and I suddenly realized how comfortable we were becoming.
It is well known throughout the kingdom that the King and Queen have an open marriage. They have children, of course, and I truly believe they love each other in their way, but it’s no secret that the Queen prefers women and has no issues with the King taking lovers.
With that knowledge firmly affixed to the forefront of my mind, I bolstered my courage and stood, approaching Elian where he sat slumped in his chair, a bit away from the table, legs spread in ease. I situated myself between his thighs and looked down at him, attempting to convey with a look alone what I desired, testing the temperature of the waters and hoping he’d take the plunge with me. He stared up at me earnestly, his gorgeous, glittering eyes going a bit heavy-lidded, his chest rising just a bit faster with his breaths.
I slowly, oh, so slowly, reached out a hand, moving toward his face in increments, waiting to see if he’d stop me. Instead, he grabbed my fingers and put my palm flat against his cheek, turning into it and kissing the inside of my wrist. My belly fluttered, and heat suffused me at the touch of those soft, pillowy lips to the sensitive flesh there.
He breathed in deeply, and I knew he could scent my arousal. I wasn’t the least bit ashamed. Quite the contrary. I hiked up my skirts with my free hand and settled myself firmly on his thigh, letting him feel what the night had done to me, the heat and dampness that had settled at my core.
He groaned when I rocked myself on his leg and let my head drop back in bliss, our still-linked hands falling to the base of my neck right above the ruffled bodice of my gown.
Before I could even take a breath, he had freed my breasts from the confines of their trappings, the air caressing my nipples and making them bead. It wasn’t exactly comfortable seeing as I was still clothed, but all thoughts of discomfort fled when he lapped at first one rosy bud and then the other, massaging one with a thumb as he took the other into the wet, hot cavern of his mouth. He licked and laved, making me nearly pant with want.
I ran a hand up his free thigh, twisting my wrist so I could palm the steely length of him where it struggled to be free of its soft leather cage. Elian groaned again and renewed his fervor at my chest when I applied just a bit of pressure and squeezed, dipping an index finger behind the flap of his breeches to gently scrape along his length with a blunt nail. That made him hiss and raise his head to look at me.
The look in his eyes was nearly indescribable. The closest I can come is to say he looked as if he were starving.
I deftly undid the ties at his waist and groin with one hand and tugged at the hem of his shirt with the other. He ripped the tunic over his head and then attacked my clothing with such haste and intensity I feared I’d be down to one gown for the remainder of my journey.
He pushed me back and off just enough that we could both rid ourselves of what remained of our clothes, and then he picked me up, swinging me into his powerful arms with no more than a thought before carrying me through to the bedroom area of the cabin.
He laid me on the soft covers, and I unabashedly slid back, dropped to my elbows, and bared myself to him, flashing him a sultry smile. He didn’t miss a beat, he simply dove, devouring me so masterfully and thoroughly that I saw stars when I crested that peak and fell over the other side. He didn’t stop at just one, though. He circled that tight bundle of nerves and nipped at its hood. He thrust his wicked tongue into me as a prelude of things to come. He inserted one and then two fingers inside me, twisting and turning and hitting that spot deep inside that had me gasping for breath and soaking his digits.
When he kissed and nipped his way up my body and took my mouth in a fiery and passionate kiss, I knew I wanted to taste him as he had done with me. I flipped us, taking him a bit by surprise if the startled gasp was any indication, then kissed and licked my way to his impressive length, caressing from the root up and swirling my thumb over his tip as I looked into his eyes and showed him with my expression how much I wanted him.
When I took him into my mouth, his hips bucked off the bed, and he reached to grasp my hair—not roughly but none too gently either, the slight bite of pain blending with the pleasure and the power I felt pleasing him thus. I used my hand to caress as I alternated between steady suction and pressure with swirling loops of my tongue. I felt him stiffen further, felt his body tense, and readied myself to indulge in him when he suddenly stopped and pulled from me.
I pouted and told him that we were just getting to the good part. He laughed, flashing those incomparable dimples again, and then pulled me up onto the bed with him, kissing me intensely and seductively. He moved his tongue across mine in a way that reminded me of what he had done earlier, and I almost came again from that alone. When he lowered a hand and inserted three fingers this time, I almost combusted from the sudden intrusion, and all before he had even moved. At the first gentle glide and thrust, I did shatter once more, the cry rising from within and breaking our connection as my muscles locked.
I was so entranced I didn’t register his movements and could only gasp when he entered me to the hilt in one smooth motion. The bite of being filled was only compounded by his length hitting that spot inside once more in a way that was so pleasurable it almost hurt. I shook and craved to move my hips, rotating them just slightly, needing to feel that surge and retreat, but he only chastised me with a chuckle and held me in place, prolonging the pleasure.
He teased, kissing and licking my neck, nipping my shoulder, then retaking my mouth with leisurely conquest. Then, he finally moved. I could only call to the gods as he elicited a firestorm of feelings and sensations inside me, across me, within me. Could only hold on as he took me relentlessly, as I dreamed he would. As he punished me with pleasure and nearly killed me with desire. I felt as if I were floating above myself.
