Fear.
Scared that I might pull away at this moment? Deny his advances to complete our marriage? Or maybe he feared I would run away like his ex-wife.
“Tell me what makes you the happiest,” I blurted.
And the king began telling me how he had come to love his combat training.
As he talked and we ate, I thought about the feelings he had so blatantly revealed to me. The man I had deemed to be so stoic and uninvolved was no longer the same. And I was no longer the same either. He was starting to make me feel like I was safer with him than without him. He made sure I was taken care of, being attentive to me in ways that no one had before. And though he had many flaws, it was clear that he was attempting to right his wrongs, which was obviously something a king didn’t do unless he saw fit.
As hard as I had been on him, and as confusing and painful the beginning had been, I had faith now. For the first time since I met him, I had faith that things would get better.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A month rolled by easily in the palace after our outing. With the king's loaded confession, we both seemed more easy-going with each other. We had also shared a rather lovely afternoon together after that. It seemed that we had finally found a good place to really start our relationship, and the lack of tension was reflected on the staff. Lydia and Jasmine would sit with Isabelle and me as we stitched away, and they would all giggle about palace gossip—something they had never included me in previously. They would all ask me about my meals with the king as they dressed or undressed me for certain occasions, and I would give them as many details as I could about the palace guards or the few guests that we had over, which fueled their excitement even more. It was wonderful to finally be included. I felt like I was finally making progress.
Change did not affect how the king and I did things together. We still had our meals across the table from one another, and we never spoke about ruling the kingdom, but it felt like a weight had been lifted off of both of us. He would smile at me from across the table, and we’d discuss some parts of our days or just sit in content silence. He even brings up his ex-wife occasionally and touched on minor details of his werewolf side. They were small pieces to add to the puzzle, but every bit made the picture clearer, and I was delighted with how our relationship was progressing. Slow small steps were still growth.
Though I was heavily aware that we still hadn't completed our marriage, I never brought it up. I was too embarrassed, and I worried that he had a reason to keep himself away from me, from fully finalizing our marriage in the most intimate way. Maybe it had something to do with his scar or his ex-wife. Or maybe he was truly content to wait for some unknown sign my body was supposed to give him. Regardless, I was finally happy, and I didn't want to know that he didn't want me as completely as I wanted him, so I never dared to speak of it.
Since the king trusted me more and I had gotten significantly healthier since my arrival, I was permitted to go outside once a day for some moderate activity. Most of the time was spent in the gardens. Summer was upon us, and the air was filled with the wonderful scent of blooming flowers. I could shut my eyes, lean back into the bench, and listen to the water move through the fountain until my mind relaxed into a calm state. I also spent a lot of time with Jester, sneaking him apples. He, too, had gotten much healthier since we arrived. And on the days I needed more human contact, I would seek out the other guards who roamed the grounds as they always had entertaining stories to tell. Or I would pay a visit to the previous queen.
She was delightful in her own regal way and always welcomed me into her home with open arms and constructive criticism. Every time I was squeezed in her strong hold, I thought about how lucky King Archer was to have such an amazing woman in his life, and I would try very hard to ignore the nagging reminder that I had no mother in mine.
Despite the love, the retired queen was very stern about some things, and I began considering her to be my second tutor. Once she sensed that her son and I were on better terms, she began instructing me on how to be a proper queen, and she wasn't always gentle about it.
I learned that I was to be obedient to my husband at all times, especially in the public eye. I was supposed to host tea parties and have polite conversations with the upper class women about things like the weather or upcoming festivals. Guest lists and refreshments would be very important in each of these as I would never want to offend anyone or have the improper food presented for certain occasions. I had to be announced into a room a certain way when guests were around, and certain guests would require lodging in the palace which had its own specific guidelines on what was appropriate and what was not. My dress was to be held a certain way, depending on its style, and my hair style should vary according to events. I even had to eat using specific forks. It was all bizarre and wildly unnecessary, but I never dared to say such a thing.
Often times, at the end of our sessions, I would go home and collapse into my bed with a weakened laugh, overwhelmed with what I had learned in the past few hours. My maids would always giggle at me a little but would still help me into more comfortable clothes and agree that the King's mother could be quite a handful. Sometimes, they would even say all of the bizarre rules were simply pompous.
Everything had fallen into a beautiful hectic pattern until I woke up one night with a start. It took me a very long time to understand that I was awake and not dreaming because everything felt hazy. It was like I was not in my own skin.
I felt like my body was drowning in pleasure, like I was so close to releasing this intense, lovely heaviness; almost as if my body couldn't handle being on edge. I parted my lips, hoping a deep breath of air would cool the fire stirring within my lungs, but all it did was make me moan out loud. I would've been embarrassed if I had been more in control of my actions, but in that moment, all I wanted was the sweet climax that the king had given me before and for this intense sensation that consumed my body to go away. I let out another frustrated groan and grabbed at my hair, pulling hard for relief. I could feel no pain through the gesture. If anything, it increased my pleasure.
I didn't understand what was happening, why my body was aching so beautifully like this. I had never felt anything like it—never been swept away with such intensity. A part of me was terrified of what was going on in my body, but I didn't have enough control over it. I couldn’t stumble to my feet and call out for help. Luckily, help came to me instead.
“Queen Willow?” James's voice came from the slight crack of my bedroom door. “Are you alright?”
I didn't care that I was his queen, and I was tossing around in my bed in my flimsy night gown. I didn't care that what I was doing was indecent, and I should've been ashamed of myself. Just hearing the strong low voice of a male was enough to make me groan in frustration and satisfaction. My body knew that James wasn't enough. He would never be enough to make this dreadfully wonderful feeling go away, but I also knew that he could soothe some of the intensity away. At least temporarily.
“Oh God,” James whispered to himself, obviously hearing my sexual cries and seeing my nearly-naked body move in the dim moon light. “Just relax, my lady. I will get the king immediately.”
When I heard the door shut, I understood that my chance to reduce this wildness was gone, and I let out a strangled scream, now fisting the luxurious pillows as hard as I could. I hadn't cared that James wouldn't be enough to keep all of these pleasurable feelings at bay; I just needed relief—any kind of relief—even if it was only for a short while. I was panting hard and had managed to roll on my side when I decided to try and take matters into my own hands. I slowly slid one hand underneath my night gown, feeling the hot skin of my thighs and wondering if I was having a feverish hallucination. Regardless of whether this was real or not, I guided my hand to my core, allowing myself to feel the wetness of my own folds in the hopes that I could make this awful torment go away. But every second I tried to rid myself of this powerful feeling, I felt the pleasure build instead o
f decline, and I was getting no closer to the edge I so deeply craved. My skin felt like it was getting hotter, and I wanted the forbidden release so badly. Now, it was nearly painful. I gave up and let out another cry of anger and defeat.
I heard the bedroom door creak open, and my head snapped towards the sound, hoping someone had come to my rescue.
“Willow,” the king whispered into the darkness.
His voice alone was enough to make me throw my head back and moan out loud. It was then that I realized that he was what I needed. He was the one who was meant to take this away.
“Fuck,” the king hissed out, suddenly moving very quickly to be near me. “Are you in any pain?” he asked through tightly-clenched teeth. His voice sounded so good. I wanted to know how his hands would feel on my skin.
“No,” I panted back. I felt like I couldn't control myself. My hands reached out for him, and when I came into contact with the soft material of his shirt, I grabbed on as hard as I could and yanked him towards me. He stumbled forward ungracefully. He was able to stabilize himself on his elbows though, his upper body bent over my bed with his face precariously close to mine. “I don't know what's happening to me, but I need you to make this stop,” I commanded.
The king shifted back as much as I would let him with my fists tightly clenching his clothing, and he brushed the blankets aside before he laid his body down next to mine. Had I been any more in control of my thought process, I would've been delighted with the fact that this was the first time we were in bed together like this, but all I cared about in that moment was that it wasn't enough. I began clawing desperately at his clothing, hoping I would rip it and be able to feel his bare skin.
“Willow, please,” the king rasped out, trying to push my hands away. “I will make you feel better, but I need you to keep your hands to yourself.”
That was the last stipulation I would ever want to agree to at that moment. I wanted to feel his smooth skin under my palms. I wanted to run my hands down his muscular back and over his strong chest until I memorized the feeling. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck and trace the shape of his lips with the tips of my fingers. I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist and hold on to him as tightly as I could. But I needed him to soothe the intense heat that was controlling my body more than anything else, so I gripped my bed sheets as hard as I could. I was forcing myself to let him do it his way.
King Archer took a deep breath to calm himself down and shut his eyes before I felt his slender fingers brush against my bare knee, slowly drifting it upwards. I bit my lower lip hard but stayed still when his hand smoothed itself over my thigh. Unfortunately, when his fingers slipped between my folds and pressed against the sensitive bud, I felt the familiar sensation of intensifying frustration and not the relief I needed.
“No!” I shouted, smacking his hands away. “I need you.”
“You need me?” he whispered back, his voice hoarse.
“Yes!”
The king let out a noise of pleasure then he was on top of my withering body, fumbling with his belt and pants for a moment. The sound of the buckle coming undone was enough to make me moan. And when I couldn't hear him move anymore, I laid still, waiting expectantly.
“Say it again,” he ordered.
“I need you, King Archer,” I proclaimed.
With a sigh from the king, I felt something press against my core. At first, I thought it was his fingers excitedly exploring me, but then I felt him slip inside of me, and my body arched up, accepting what it needed so intensely. I couldn't have stopped the loud moans that poured from my mouth if I had wanted to. All I could do in that moment was grip the shirt that the king had yet to remove and listen to the equally pleasurable noises he made in response to my body’s need for him. His hips moved slowly, easing himself in and out of me in a pace that only felt more like a passionate tease. I couldn't take it. I reached out, grabbed his hips, and tried to pull him into me, wanting him deeper and faster. At my advances, he quickened his pace and also grabbed one of my breasts. It felt incredible, beyond anything I had expected.
My body was still burning hot, and the desire that wafted through me was only growing stronger with each thrust. But instead of being frustrated, I felt liberated. I was holding on to the man I was meant to be with. I was learning all of the curves and marks he kept hidden. He let me run my hands over his back, just like I wanted. And when I slipped my hands into his thick dark hair and tugged gently, he moaned in my ear, sending pleasurable shivers throughout my body. I was underneath him, letting out cries of pleasure as he did exactly what I wanted, and I could feel his heavy breathing on my skin.
Each time he let out a moan, I felt passion swirl in my body. I was making my husband feel good. I was giving him something no one else could give him, and it made me feel powerful, something I had never felt before in my life. But having my husband so close to me, his hands caressing and accepting the most intimate parts of my body, made me feel something else as well. I felt wanted—something I had also never felt before. After being discarded and brushed off my entire life, I finally had someone who wanted me.
“Kiss me,” the king murmured into the dark, breaking the tender spell that had swept over me.
I didn't have to be told twice. My hands that were buried in his hair released themselves so I could throw my arms around his neck and slam my mouth against his. My actions caused my body to clench all over with forceful desire, and I moaned into my husband's mouth, loving the feel of his lips on my own. The king continued with his steady rhythm as he kissed me, his tongue tracing my lower lip until I allowed him entry. I could hardly control myself when his tongue slipped into my mouth. He had never kissed me like this, and for him to do so, when I was already experiencing so much, caused a wave of intensity to hit my body.
“King Archer.” My voice trembled as I spoke his name. “I can't take this.”
My husband didn't respond. He moved his lips down my cheek, and the kisses drifted down to my exposed neck. There, he placed open-mouthed kisses on my mark, and I felt my eyes roll back as I let out yet another loud moan. But he didn't stop kissing my mark. He allowed his tongue to sweep over the sensitive skin as his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming shallower but faster. My breathing rate picked up as I felt myself nearing the edge that I had been in desperate need of for so long.
“King Archer,” I managed, feeling like I was losing my breath.
“Oh God. Willow,” he grunted back, his lips still drifting over the mark.
“Archer!” I gasped.
In that moment, his teeth nipped at my mark, sending my body over the edge, directly into my climax. My eyes rolled back, and my hands clutched at the king as his moans destroyed what little silence there was in the room. His hips bucked, and my body trembled as my pelvis met each thrust. It was too much but so good that I never wanted it to end all at once. I wasn't aware that I was nearly screaming with pleasure or that my whole body was moving on its own accord. I felt like I had been struck by lightning and all I cared about was that my husband was with me, giving me what I had so urgently desired.
As the waves of pleasure became smaller, I felt control return to my body, and I was aware that the intense heat that had consumed my body was now gone. I was thoroughly sated but also terribly weak. It seemed my husband was too because his arms had given out at some point, and he was trying to roll himself off of me. I just watched him move, barely able to do more than pant loudly as I allowed my body to regain its strength.
“I'm sorry,” I blurted out after several minutes, feeling my cheeks flame.
“For what?” the king asked, his breathing ragged and uneven. I could see his eyes searching my face in the darkness, confusion clear on his face.
“I shouldn't have done that. It was very awful of me.”
“You did nothing, Willow. Your body went into heat. At least, that’s what I think happened. I’m not even sure that humans can go into heat. The two of us bein
g mated is a bit of a rarity.”
“What does ‘heat’ mean?” I asked, my muddled brain trying to grasp his words.
“It means your body was ready for us to be completely unified,” he murmured, turning his whole body towards me. “You are completely my wife and my mate.”
My heart swelled in my chest at the thought of being totally the king's and him being fully mine, but then I felt the bed shift as he stood up, and I heard him do his belt.
“Where are you going?” I asked, but my eyes were already drifting shut, and I was too exhausted to pry them open again.
“To my bedchambers,” he whispered.
“No,” I protested without thinking. My hands reached for his blindly and tightly held on. “Stay with me, Archer.”
He didn't say a word, but I sighed with satisfaction when I felt the bed move again, this time when he settled in beside me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Two beautiful months passed by without the slightest hiccup. I felt like I was in heaven. I was beginning to feel like a real queen with all my new tasks that offered a moderate sense of purpose. I hosted several events, like a tea party in the garden and a feast for a noble couple who had recently been wed. The previous queen was always looking over my shoulder, approving everything before it turned into action, but I felt quite accomplished when she made less and less changes to my activities. It felt good to be doing these types of events and even better to be doing them properly. I loved the approving nods I received and the way the king would pull me aside when his eyes glittered with pride.
Like now when we had a few moments for ourselves.
The guests had blended together and others took over the conversation. Archer wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me to a secluded part of the garden, away from the festivities. We were tucked out of sight, behind some tall shrubs, and I felt my heart race with excitement. Fall had come and made the garden less green and bright, but the crisp gold and red theme of the surroundings was just as beautiful to me. Maybe it was because the strong colours brought out Archer's dark features and made him look impossibly more regal. And, here, I had him all to myself. At least for a little while.
The First Queen: A Shifter Romance Page 15
