Dark Assassin Ch. 04

"Me?" the maid blushed pure crimson and he saw her tense before him, "I...that is..."

"It's a simple enough question," Wyatt said, taking a step forward, forcing Nicole to take one back, "If you say yes, I can have you cumming around my cock and screaming my name in no time." He was blunt - there was no need for games.

Wyatt had continued his advance until the maid's back was up against the door. He placed his palms against the wood, between her head, trapping her between his body and the door. There was no escape.

"I...," Nicole had lost the ability to speak.

Taking one hand from the door, Wyatt trailed the back of his fingers slowly down the maid's cheek and neck until it came to rest just above her heaving chest. "Just say 'yes'," he turned the hand around, softly cupping the maid's tiny breast, "Or say 'no'." He rubbed his palm ever so slightly against her nipple through her dress until it was hard.

Nicole moaned and arched her breast into his hand, "Yes," she nodded, "Your grace."

Grinning, Wyatt began to immediately work on the stays of Nicole's simple dress with well-practiced fingers. He had it open in moments, and pulled the fabric aside to display the soft skin of her chest and breasts. Tiny pink nipples that were currently at full attention tipped small handfuls of flesh. Wyatt took one of them in between his thumb and forefinger and pinched it lightly. Nicole's breath hitched and she arched outward into his grip.

"Are you getting wet?" Wyatt whispered, bending down and replacing his fingers with his lips, sucking at the tight nub.

"Y-yes," Nicole moaned as the King continued to nip and toy with her breasts.

"Show me," Wyatt commanded and stood tall, stepping a fraction of a foot away from the maid, "Undress."

Nicole pulled herself away from the door and pulled down her dress, starting with the sleeves and then letting it fall off her body. Next came her underskirt, which was undone after a quick unlacing. It too fell to her feet leaving her in nothing but simple shoes which she easily slipped out of. Petite and slim, Nicole looked the picture of innocence as she stood shyly before the King, a modest hand held between her thighs to hide her sex from his gaze.

"Now show me how wet you are," Wyatt said, pointing between her legs.

The slightest hesitation, and then the hand Nicole held near her entrance slipped between her thighs. She rubbed at her slit a few times and then pulled out her fingers, holding them up for Wyatt's inspection. They were coated with a thin film of her arousal, glistening in the daylight that poured through the bedchamber window.

Gently, Wyatt took Nicole's wet fingers and slid them between his lips, tasting her. She was tangy and spicy and unique and the King wanted more. This time he reached between her thighs himself, sliding his fingers through the slippery dew and bringing more of it to his lips. Nicole squirmed and rubbed her thighs together as she watched the King taste her for a second time.

"You taste so good, Nicole," Wyatt said sweetly as he knelt on the carpet before her, "Spread your legs - there you go." The maid was standing before him with her legs just over shoulder width apart, exposing her pussy level to his mouth.

"Your grace, If you'd like t-to lie down...," Nicole sounded uncomfortable having the King kneel before her. But Wyatt took great pleasure from making girls writhe before him - and if he had to kneel, he had to kneel.

"Palms flat against the door," Wyatt told her, "If you move them, I will stop whatever I am doing." The threat may not have been potent quite then, but when Wyatt had her at the edge of orgasm, stopping would be pure torture.

Nicole did as she was told and looked down at her King with heavy anticipation. Starting from her calves, Wyatt slid his hands up her legs, curving around the back of her thighs and gripping her bottom, pulling it away from the door so that her hips jutted out toward his face. Holding her there with one hand, Wyatt's other hand came back around front to cup her pussy, grinding the heel of his palm into her clit.

"Your grace!" Nicole moaned, and thrust her hips forward, her palms never leaving the door.

Moisture coated Wyatt's hand as he pushed his middle and ring fingers past Nicole's lips, into her dripping channel. She clutched at him hungrily as he thrust his fingers in and out, dragging them along the top of her walls while his palm continued to rub the hard nub of her clit.

Nicole was biting her lip, thrusting against Wyatt's hand as he coaxed her toward release. The King stopped moving and let her fuck herself on his fingers, making sure that her palms never left the wood of the door. They didn't, and she stopped biting her lip when it became too hard not to cry out her pleasure. Nicole mewled and moaned, her hips twisting and thrusting in an attempt to bring herself over the edge.

When Wyatt felt walls of Nicole's pussy begin to flutter in the pre stages of release, he pulled away his hand and licked the moisture from his fingers. Nicole's cry of frustration turned to pleasure when the King leaned in and sucked her clit between his teeth. A thin dribble of her honey slipped from her lips and coated Wyatt's chin while he kissed and sucked along her slit, sending the maid flying back toward release.

Wyatt's cock was rock hard as he tasted her, and his fisted it with one free hand while the other held her open for his seeking tongue.

"I...I'm going...to cum," Nicole cried loudly, and her body went still while her release spread over her body. Her inner walls clenched and unclenched, releasing a sweet wave of cream that Wyatt eagerly lapped up. When she was done, he stood and pressed his body against hers, wedging his cock between them.

"Tell me to fuck you," he growled, grinding against her. The time for gentleness was gone.

"Fuck me," Nicole gasped, "Fuck me, your grace. Fuck me!" She was wild with need, sliding her body down the door and against Wyatt's sandwiched cock. This one had been too easy...

Roughly, the King took Nicole's left leg and hiked it up against his hip so that she was splayed out for him. He then gripped his shaft and bent down to aim it at her dripping pussy. With a hard thrust up he buried himself inside her. This caused her to ride up the door a little and cry out with surprised pleasure. She was tight, and gripped his cock as he slid a little out of her before slamming back inside.

"You feel so good," Wyatt whispered into the maid's ear as he fucked her against the door, driving her feet off the ground with each thrust of his hips, "I want you to scream my name while you cum around me. Can you do that?"

"Yes!" Nicole moaned, burying her face in Wyatt's neck and tasting the salt of his sweating skin. Like the good listener she was, the maid had not let her palms leave the door. Wyatt decided to reward her.

"Grip my shoulders," he said and the maid did so, digging her nails into his flesh as the King rucked her other leg up until the only thing keeping her from falling to the floor was his body pressing her against the door and his cock spearing her pussy.

Skin slapped against skin as Wyatt's thrusts became even more violent. Nicole ran nails down his shoulders, screaming her pleasure.

"Your grace!"

"Wyatt," the King growled, "Call me Wyatt when you cum."

She was already dripping down his shaft and balls before she came with a gush of thick honey that coated Wyatt's pelvis with its ferocity. "Wyatt!!" Nicole yelled. Her pussy clutched at the King's shaft as he felt his balls tighten and release his seed into her overstuffed channel.

He pressed her against the door, holding her up with the last of his strength as his orgasm peaked and subsided. Their combined fluid leaked out from their joining.

Nicole's legs were released from Wyatt's grip and she found herself standing on weak legs as the King pulled out of her and took a step back. His cock was still hard and willing, but he had taken all he could from the sweating and exhausted girl and would have to look elsewhere for further release.

"Clean yourself in the basin," Wyatt said, jerking his thumb to the now-cold water, "Then get me fresh water."

The maid nodded, speechless, and hurried to the corner of the room to remove the evidence of the King's ravishment from between her thighs. Her previously neatly combed hair was in disarray, and she tried desperately to tame it once she was cleaned. Nicole got dressed quickly under the amused eye of the King, who had perched on the edge of the bed, his glistening cock still hard as steel.

Once the maid had returned herself to proper order, she bowed and said, "Thank you, your grace," and hurried from the room to get more water for him.

End scene of dubious consent

Wyatt stood, cracked his neck, stretched his muscles, and let out a tremendous laugh.

This one will be fun, he mused in as he waited for the fresh water. "Thank you," he muttered just as the door to his bedchamber flew open and not Nicole, but the fat bitch Mia came bustling in, fuming red.

"What is this I hear you've replaced me with some tramp?" the older maid demanded, placing the basin she had brought herself where it belonged. She sounded stuffy and her eyes were puffy with disease.

Wyatt growled and moved to the basin, "You are being presumptuous, Mia. Do not take that tone with your king," be began to wash the sweat and sex from his body, "You are being replaced. If that is too hard for you to handle, you may leave my employ completely."

Mia said nothing, but blushed an angrier red before blustering out of the door, slamming the door a little too hard for Wyatt's patience. He would have her punished later for that display of insolence. Maids came and went - when they got too old or boring to be of any use to Wyatt, they were easy to replace.

Once he was cleaned and dressed, Wyatt climbed down from his bedchamber and entered the library with a spoken word at the locked door.

Three rows of specially designed shelves formed concentric circles around the room and were packed to capacity with books of various sizes and ages that Wyatt had imported from the palace's library. A single gap in the shelves formed a path from the door to the center of the room, which held a small reading desk, a plush high-backed armchair, and a pedestal for holding larger tomes. This currently held an old spell book that contained many useful cantrips and simple rituals that Wyatt used often. Near the top of the tall ceiling hung a brightly glowing orb that cast plenty of light around the library. The orb was powered by eternal Elfish magic - Wyatt did not allow flames of any sort to enter the library for fear of what he might lose.

An avid reader, there were times that the King would spend all day in the peaceful, earthy-smelling library, polishing his arcana and expanding his already expansive knowledge. But today he had a singular goal, and moved down the third aisle of shelves, following the carefully crafted organization system until he came to the section on bestiary.

Sliding one of a dozen movable ladders to the spot he wanted, Wyatt climbed halfway up the shelves - which stretched from the floor to almost the ceiling - and found what the book he had come for. The Dark Elves was written in gold across the spine of the simple, green book.

Climbing down from the ladder, Wyatt studied it. It had been written almost a century earlier by a palace mage who had spent a large part of his life in the north of the continent. The result of his life's work was a squat book barely one hundred pages long that documented the history and strange customs of the Dark Elves.

Taking it to the center of the library, Wyatt sat in the armchair and began to read. And by the time he was finished three hours later he was wholly unsatisfied with what he had learned.

The Dark Elves were an unpleasant race that lived in most horrid, frigid environment on the continent. Hedonistic creatures, they glorified violence and sex to an extreme degree, often mixing the two. Ruled by the same lineage for eons, they were at least a relatively neutral race, only engaging in conflicts with those foolish enough to want their baron land. This had amounted to two wars in their entire written history - one with a small, but barbarous band of men and another with a faction of Sylvan Elves who had believed in upward expansion for gods knew what reason. Both conflicts had been overwhelming victories for the Dark Elves, who did not shy away from shadow warfare and dishonorable tactics. During the war between men and Elves that had led to the brief conquering of the continent by men, the Dark Elves had remained neutral, offering no aid to either side. And when the Elves retook the middle of the continent a century later and a century ago, where the book ended, the Dark Elves had again done absolutely nothing.

It all made Wyatt very suspicious.

When he had taken the throne from Manson forty years ago, Wyatt had made sure to form a friendly relationship with the Drow King. The Dark Elf controlled the entire northern part of the continent, from the Gold all the way west to the Dark Ocean through miles and miles of rock and ice. If Wyatt ever needed passage west, he wanted the option of going through the Dark Elves' land - despite the environment it was still easier than crossing the Sylvan Elves' forests.

Until recently, the Drow King had been willing but apathetic about their relationship. He recognized peaceful alliance on paper, but Wyatt had known that the Dark Elves would never come to his aide if he ever asked. That changed a few months ago when the Drow King had begun insisting that Wyatt come visit the north on a peacekeeping journey. Then, just yesterday, had come the bit about the Manson woman and fealty and unity and everything that all evidence suggested the Dark Elves cared absolutely nothing about.

Wyatt had been too busy with his ritual to give any meaningful thought to the Drow's latest offer when it had been made, but now that his mind was clear he could try to piece together the Dark Elf's motives...

The King's stomach growled, wrenching him out of his thoughts, and he realized that he had not eaten in over twenty-four hours. Standing from the chair he had occupied for the past three hours or so, Wyatt rang for some food and went down to the tower's living area to receive it.

"Wyatt Slynt," a lilting female voice said when had descended the stairs and entered the solar, "What happened to you? You look ten years younger!"

The corners of Wyatt's mouth curled into a small smile as he approached the owner of the voice, a tall raven-haired beauty dressed in lavish blue silks that complimented her intelligent violet eyes. She stood, beaming at him with her hands on her wide hips.

"Lady Katrina," Wyatt greeted the woman as he approached, kissing the back of her offered hand, "It's been too long."

"It certainly has, your grace," the woman agreed. Lady Katrina was a member of the King's Council and the only one Wyatt trusted. She was in charge of the realm's money and was one of the main reasons for its current prosperity. More than a useful mind, the Lady also happened to be one of the King's regular lovers. As it were, her timing could not have been more serendipitous. Wyatt's newly youthful blood was starting to heat again and he would soon need to find relief.

"Tell me you have not come to discuss business," the King grinned as the door to the solar opened and a maid brought in a platter of cheeses and bread and a large pitcher of wine.

"Don't be wicked, your grace," Katrina teased, "You have plenty of maids lying around for that sort of thing."

The maid who had brought the food gave the King a barely concealed look of anticipation before Wyatt dashed her hopes with a dismissive wave of his hand. Apparently he had fucked her at some point, although he could not remember when.

"But none of them compare to you," Wyatt said as he spread soft cheese on a piece of bread.

"Maybe after we discuss business," Katrina smiled promisingly, "I'm sorry for dropping in on you like this, but I just caught word of a possible trip to the north..."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. It was no surprise the Drow King had news of the Wyatt's upcoming trip to his palace spread throughout the Capital. If it became highly anticipated news, there would be no way for Wyatt to politely refuse.

"The Drow King would like to mend things between what remeains the Manson family and I," Wyatt shrugged, "And believes his palace would be the best place for this to occur."

Katrina poured herself some wine. "It would be a dangerous trip. And a costly one. You cannot enter the Dark Elves' land without a full escort, it would look bad. Like you don't care."

"Don't I know," Wyatt grumbled, "But I have no doubt we can afford it."

"Oh, no doubt," Katrina smiled softly, "But I'm not worried about the money."

Wyatt took a sip of wine and nodded. "I understand your hesitations, Lady. The Drow King is an unsavory ally. But I will have plenty of protection and am no helpless weakling myself."

"It is not the Drow King I am worried about. I'm more concerned with the Manson girl."

Wyatt almost choked on his wine, "For what possible reason? As far as I can tell from my sources, the girl didn't even know she was of royalty."

"But she knows now," Katrina said pointedly, "And that might put ideas of power in her head. And with the support of the Elves..."

"She has the support of no one," Wyatt said dismissively, "The Sylvan Elves were ready to turn in her mother years ago, before she found refuge with the Mountain Elves. And those lot are less likely to get involved with matters of human power than Goblins."

"There are still plots against you even fifty years later," Katrina said, "Right here in the Capital. And loyalty to Manson has wavered little in some of the most influential houses in the realm. If there is a Manson alive, there are still hopes for these misguided notions."

Katrina's concern was starting to become marginally irritable. "I have put down every maneuver against my seat without fail," Wyatt reminded her, "And once the girl swears off all claim to the throne, half of these houses you mentioned will fall in line - they are honor-bound fools. Do not concern yourself with her - I certainly am not."

"So why even go to the north?" Katrina probed, "Just send assassins after her and call it a day. Why the show?"

"I am not going to the north in order for the girl to swear fealty to me," Wyatt explained patiently as he took another long swig of wine, "I am going to check up on the Drow King. He is plotting something, and I'd like to find out personally what it is."

Katrina's brows furrowed, "So that's all this is? A reconnaissance mission? We have spies for that, you know."

"The Drow King will not reveal his true hand until he believes all the pieces are in place. That means that the Manson girl and I must meet at his palace and commence with this ridiculous farce. But once I am there, I can figure out what the knave has planned. Perhaps it'll turn out to be nothing - but I highly doubt it."

"Well," Katrina leaned back in her chair and took a bite of hard cheese, "It appears that you have everything figured out. As always. So will you let me travel with you? I wish to see how this all pans out. Plus, I could use a nice break from court."

Wyatt crossed his arms across his chest, "What reason could you possibly have for wanting to go north? It's cold and baron and the Dark Elves are a horrid race of people."

"Perhaps," Katrina said, lowering her voice seductively and changing the tone between her and the King instantly, "I wish to keep your grace warm in the cold and baron land."