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“You said you need me,” she chokes out. “But Rupert—I need you. I need you so badly I could cry.”
“Cry then, sweetheart,” I murmur, unlacing the codpiece that conceals my dick. “You know how much I love the fragrance of your tears, especially when they’re scented with love and lust.”
“Fucking fuck me already,” she hisses, and I can’t help chuckling at her impatience. But my laugh cracks a little, because I crave her desperately. My cock is so hard and swollen I can barely stand to touch it long enough to guide myself into her slit.
She’s slippery, swollen, ready for me, and I groan at the rapturous sensation of gliding deep inside her body.
“F-u-u-u-ck,” I whisper, drawing out the word.
“Do it hard,” she whispers back, and I can feel the tremor of her desire, her urgency, as I grasp her hips and start thrusting.
She’s crying. The scent of her tears perfumes the air, and I inhale while I fuck her, discerning every note of relief, of carnal hunger, of anxiety, of passion… of affection, rich and deep and strong.
“You love me,” I say hoarsely, pumping my cock into her wetness.
“I do,” she pants. “I do, I do… oh, I’m going to come—faster, please, Rupert, please…”
And right then, buried to the hilt in her sweet cunt, I decide that Rupert is going to be my new name, permanently. I’ve made it mine by tricks and by trial, and she’s made it ours by letting it fall from her sweet lips, by half-shrieking it as she comes on my cock.
Her faint little shrieks continue—shrill gasps so sexy I can’t help coming to the sound of them. I shove myself into her hard, thrilling at the clench of her pussy around my dick. I could pass out from this bliss—it’s fucking divine.
Even after coming I stay there for a moment, safe inside her… both of us connected more deeply than we’ve ever been.
This wasn’t just quick sex in a secret room while the kingdom convulses amid the death-throes of the King.
This was the sealing of something between us—Juliette and me. The acknowledgement of our bond, the bloody, beautiful rite that confirms how far we’ll go for each other.
I run my hand up her back, into her hair. “I love you.”
She gives a soft, contented sigh. “I love you, too.”
When I leave her body, my cock is wet with blood and cum. I perform a quick spell to clean us both, but it leaves me shaky. It’s a good thing the cook and her rebel friends didn’t include my magic in the mix when calculating the allies they would have for their coup. It might take me months to recover fully from Lady Kessalif’s curse.
Juliette and I sit side by side on blankets in the secret room, and we talk. We talk for hours about everything. I tell her about my favorite tricks I’ve played and my worst memories of my father. She tells me about all the times her brother broke her heart, and about learning to bake with her mother. We eat and drink from the provisions in the hiding place, and then we talk more.
Later she takes my cock out of the codpiece again and worships it with her tongue until I come helplessly in her mouth. And after that I slide my hand into her panties and massage her clit until she comes softly and sweetly against my hand. Afterward I lick her blood from my fingers to show her I don’t mind it, and she yells at me for being disgusting, and I laugh while she pummels my shoulder and chest with her fists.
So we pass the time until we grow quiet and tired, until there’s a scuffling sound at the door and it finally opens to reveal the face of a young servant.
“You’re to come with me,” he says. “Quick and quiet. There’s still some fighting in the halls, but the tide has turned. Looks like we’ll be having a democracy instead of a monarchy, after all!”
“Big words, lad,” I tell him with a yawn.
“And a big difference for people like me,” he says sharply, his eyes burning with all the vehemence and zeal of youth. “I’m proud to be a part of the change.”
I open my mouth to tell him I was part of the change, too, but Juliette gives me a warning shake of her head. I hold my tongue, suspecting that she and Mistress Moorne have kept our part in the coup a secret, even from the other rebels. And as much as I’d like to claim a little credit for obtaining the fennisley, I have to admit it’s better this way. Juliette and I have done what we planned to do—aided in the removal of a wicked ruler, and freed her and the other concubines from his clutches. It’s time to disappear now. Time to find out how many of her dreams I can bring to life.
32
Once we’re safely escorted outside the city, we run.
There’s no use waiting around to be arrested, or trying to resolve the conflict ourselves. I care about the kingdom, of course—I’ve broadened my understanding of the problems plaguing our nation, and I want to be part of the change—but for now, I’ve done enough by killing the King. I don’t want to be held up as a revolutionary symbol or executed as a warning to lawless vigilantes. Neither of those fates sound appealing in the least.
So we run, Rupert and I, straight for the border to Messava. It’s a sprawling confederation with its own issues, but it’s friendly to small businesses, with lower taxes and reasonable regulations. Plus it’s a beautiful country, so there are plenty of tourists and travelers, especially near the cities of Filliden and Vassela in the south.
We have nothing at first. Nothing but a few clothes, my notebook, and a coin-purse generously given to us by Mistress Moorne in gratitude for our help.
We find a town whose charm and cheap housing appeals to both of us. As soon as we’re settled, I send letters back home, asking for news of my brother. The responses take weeks to arrive, and in the meantime I write to Shenya, receiving word that both she and Nerith are safe and happy. She tells me about the formation of the fledging democracy in Darthage, led by temporary President Moorne, former head cook in the House of Bounty.
