“I call up our Queen Consort, and bride of our blood King.”
On shaky legs, I stand and make my way to where they stand. I bob a heavy and dramatic curtsey to Rhys for all to see that I do not usurp, I serve. I turn to the archbishop and nod that we may begin my portion. I am ready.
“Do you promise to love and honor our people the way you do your husband, our King?”
“I do.”
“Do you promise to rule at his side in all the ways that benefit this kingdom of the realm?”
“I do.”
“And in doing so, do you promise to do everything that you can to conceive a true heir and ensure the bloodline, chosen by God himself, continues to reign?”
“I do.”
“My King, you may take your rightful place on your throne.”
Rhys turns and steps toward the large throne that is just off to the side of where the archbishop stands. He turns and two pages help him arrange his cloak over the back of the thrown before he takes his seat.
“Pages, please raise the screens for the anointing,” the archbishop commands, and orchestral music begins to play at a louder than normal volume.
Four beautiful silk screens are raised on tall staffs to give the illusion of privacy for what comes next. But there is none to be had because even if the audience cannot see, they can hear. And Craig, the heads of state and the judicial courts, the archbishop, and several others are inside the screens to witness what comes next.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs and close out everything else around me aside from Rhys. When I open them, I step before him and see that his eyes are heated. He sitsproud and tall on his throne, his rightful place, Having claimed his country, he’s ready to claim me.
My hands shake as I reach for the ties of my cloak and pluck them, letting it fall to the floor. I step out of my shoes and reach for the ties at the shoulders of my dress. They slither down my body and the cups in the bodice of my dress dip, giving Rhys a peek at my breasts. I reach behind and slide down the short zipper at my waist, letting the heavy fabric pool at my feet. Then I tuck my thumbs into the elastic of my lace panties and slide them down my legs until I stand before my King wearing nothing at all.
“Eyes on me, hen,” Rhys commands softly, and I look up from the floor to see him watching me. “Good girl.”
“Now you may prepare your King for the anointing,” the archbishop says, and I move closer to my husband.
I untie his cloak and let it fall behind him, a page scoops it up to place it out of sight and I reach for his shirt, unbuttoning it. He’s momentarily relieved of the Scepter and Orb in order to slide each arm free, but the relics are immediately handed back. I kneel before him and pull each shoe from each foot. Then the long white stockings, leaving only the ties of his pants for me to pluck at. Rhys stands so that I may push the breeches down his legs and his cock springs free to hang thick and heavy from his body.
I swallow against the lump in my throat as I realizehe’s already half hard. I’m shaking like a leaf.
He sits back down and the archbishop hands me a small bowl filled with the sacred oil and a small silver teaspoon. I begin dripping the oil all over his body, dribbling it over his muscular chest covered in dark hair, down his strong arms, and then over his thick thighs and cock. When the oil splashes him, his length stands hard and long from him.
I bite my lip and hand the bowl and spoon back before stepping closer to Rhys, to stand between his spread thighs. I begin rubbing the holy oil all across his shoulders and chest and then kneel before him to spread the oil down his legs and over his belly. When I reach for his cock, my hands are slick with oil and he groans as I stroke him.
“You’re killing me, hen,” he whispers.
“That’s the idea,” I remind him. “Fast.”
“We’ll see,” he says and his eyes flash with a challenge.
The way he’s looking at me, down on my knees with my hands wrapped around him, steals my breath in the best and most unexpected ways. I didn’t think I wanted this, but I do. This is my legacy too. This is my husband and mine only. I want the world to know that while he wields the world, I wield him.
I feel moisture pool at my center and my breath catches in my chest when he quietly commands, “Come here, hen.”
I stand and then climb onto his lap. His cock isthick and hard as it presses against me, trapped between us. As I straddle him, I rise up on my knees and rock against him so that I can get him right where I want him and then I slide all the way down his cock to the hilt.
“Breathe, hen.”
My mouth hovers just over his and our breaths mingle as I adjust to his size and then I begin to move. Slowly at first, cautious not to fling myself off this chair while he’s helpless to stop it because he’s holding priceless artifacts. But as I rock against him, his pelvic bone scrapes my needy clit, and I become more and more turned on.
With the hot wet slide of our bodies, thanks to the oil, I’m hurtling toward a climax with Rhys right behind me. Fucking him has never been a hardship and today is alarmingly no different.
“Harder,” he groans as I slide up and drop down hard over him. “Fuck yes. Just like that.”