Loathe to Love Ch. 03

A common expression, that was all.

The wine was smoother than either of the women drinking it, if slightly less sweet. We both took a moment to savor the taste on our tongues, knowing we were supposed to but not really knowing what to look for.

"Lovely," I ventured after a long pause.

"Yeah."

Our meal began with the roasted mushrooms, which my worldly companion thankfully seemed to enjoy. As we dined and entered a steady rhythm of conversation, my earlier dark emotions became somewhat subdued; not gone, but sufficiently dormant for me to even start enjoying myself.

"Have you spent much time in nature?" Natalia asked casually at one point.

"Not really." I toyed with the last mushroom on my plate, scooting it around in circles with my fork. "The palace gardens and hunting grounds at times, but those hardly count. Otherwise, mother and Selene didn't like not knowing where I was."

"Selene...?"

"The palace majordomo." I made a sour face.

"Oh." Natalia pondered for a moment. "Older woman, eyes like a hawk?"

"And talons to match."

Natalia smirked. "She visited me once, warned me about you. Said you were 'out of control' and 'required a steady, firm hand.'"

Selene had told me as much many times before, but for some reason hearing the same words out of Natalia's mouth made my heartbeat quicken.

"Do you concur?" I intended to sound playful, but the words came out more as a nervous squeak. I drank a bit more wine to soothe my throat.

"You? Out of control? Hardly." Natalia speared a mushroom and brought it to her lips, her eyes never leaving mine. "You haven't even bitten me once."

A bit of my familiar defiance flickered within me, further stoking an unrelated warmth deep in my belly. "I haven't needed to yet."

Natalia grinned. With a jolt of satisfaction, I realized this was the first time I'd seen her smile quite so wide and unashamedly. I decided I quite liked the expression on her, and resolved to bring it about often.

"Penelope. Are you telling me you're a biter?"

A shiver went down my spine, nearly disrupting my show of bravado before I regained my composure. There was a hint of hunger behind her eyes. One that had nothing to do with lunch.

"As is tradition." Looking down my nose at Natalia, I made a point of speaking with the utmost refinement. "A firstborn princess is an heir, second a priestess, third a businesswoman, and fourth a feral beast."

"No wonder we were married, then," Natalia took a sip of wine. "I've been training my whole life for this without even knowing."

The image of Natalia taming me was horrifying and captivating in equal measure; the sort one would cover their eyes to avoid, only to peek between their fingers. She was too thorough to accept grudging obedience--no, to truly tame me she'd ensure I desperately wanted to obey, to please her.

I clenched my thighs together and took a deep, shuddering breath. Now was no time for such shameful thoughts.

Wanting to conceal my...intense reaction, I changed the subject by preparing for our next course. "Ready for more?"

"Sure. What've you got?"

With a few grunts and assurances that no, I did not need Natalia's help, I hauled a stewpot onto the table with a satisfying clunk. "Wild boar, hunted in our own backyard and braised in a sour plum sauce."

"Oh! Looks wonderful." Natalia sheepishly glanced down at the ground. "But...stone fruit doesn't agree with me, unfortunately. Makes my throat swell something horrible. By all means, though, go ahead. I'm fine."

I froze midway through carving a portion for her. "What?"

"Can't eat plums." Natalia shrugged. "Sorry. For what it's worth, I had a large breakfast. Definitely won't go hungry."

In my hours and hours of manic preparation, I hadn't even bothered to ask Natalia what she wanted. What she could or couldn't eat.

There was no better metaphor for this marriage.

No matter how much effort I put in, I wouldn't be able to bypass the pure selfishness underpinning it all. I couldn't be perfect, couldn't avoid making mistakes; couldn't set up a picnic without failing spectacularly.

"Penelope?"

To say I pushed everyone away would be to ascribe me far too much agency. No, there was no need to push. Everyone stayed away from me on their own accord because they knew I was worthless.

Natalia put two fingers in her mouth and let out a sharp whistle, startling me out of my train of thought. "Hey. You with me?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak just yet.

"Are you upset?"

No nod this time, but enough hesitation to serve as a yes.

"I'm not angry with you. Or disappointed. Understand?"

"I ruined it." My voice barely gained enough momentum to exit my throat.

"Do you understand I'm not angry or disappointed, Penelope?" Natalia kept her tone calm and consistent, pushing her words through my distress via steady pressure.

Saying yes meant contradicting the story I'd worked so hard on constructing in my head. The story that had kept me safe by lowering the expectations of myself and everyone around me. But saying yes also meant trusting Natalia, and showing her as much.

I blinked. Did I trust her?

"...Yes."

She'd consistently respected my wishes, even in the moments when I wasn't ready to speak to her yet. Not by allowing me to walk over her, either--a genuine give and take. I yearned for more of it.

Natalia hummed in satisfaction. "Do you want a hug?"

My body answered before my mind could catch up, rushing forward into Natalia's strong, warm embrace. She smelled rich and earthen, like leather, pine, and woodsmoke. I buried my face in her shoulder--unable to reach the crook of her neck without standing on my tiptoes--and indulged in the various sensations of her.

"You're a fretful little thing, aren't you?" Natalia's chest rumbled against mine as she spoke. She sounded comforting rather than condescending. She was safe.

My only response was to squirm further into her grasp.

As close as I was, though, it wasn't close enough. Need rose within me. Driven by it, I pulled back slightly to gaze up at my wife. The sun was behind her head, appearing for all the world like the halo of a divine huntress.

"Natalia," I whispered reverently.

"Yes?"

"I want to kiss you."

"Well," she began, "who am I to deny a mmph!--"

With a decisive lunge on my part, our lips met--mine petite and insistent, hers full and indulging. But after an initial bout of excited, uncoordinated making out, Natalia's hand wrapped around the back of my neck and she took control of the pace. Deferring to her greater experience, I switched from leader to follower.

Those roles suited us well; she took me on a lazy tour of dominant, claiming kisses, small nips and bites, spiraling tongues, and gentle sucking of the lower lip. Eager to learn, I readily followed along and mimicked each technique back on her several times.

By the time we finally came apart for a brief pause, I was more than out of breath. My whole body felt flush, and my sex was hot, wet, and clenching with need in a way I'd rarely encountered in my own explorations.

"Oh, Natalia..." I moaned.

Not one for such dramatic flourishes, her response was to pull me close and start kissing me again. I melted into her, an eager and bottomless vessel for her affections. They made me lightheaded with giddiness; in the brief few moments when I wasn't moaning or kissing, I was letting out spontaneous giggles of joy.

Our lips and limbs remained intertwined for what must have been an hour, the meal beside us entirely forgotten. Doubting I would ever grow tired of the act, I instead only broke off our kissing once my legs grew sore from straining upward to meet her lips. When I told Natalia as much, she picked me up, gave me one last peck for good measure, and then sat on the grass and settled me in her lap.

We lazed about in the warm sun for a time, processing the pleasant step we'd just taken. Natalia rested her chin atop my head and held my hand.

"'Penelope requires a firm, steady hand.'" She scoffed. "Idiots."

I giggled. "Requires a firm, steady tongue, apparently."

"Requires affection," Natalia corrected me. "At which point she will happily eat out of your hand."

"Like one of your hounds?" My attempt at playfulness did a poor job of hiding the genuine curiosity in my tone.

Natalia snorted. "Definitely not. Hounds actually do work." She let go of my hand, allowing hers to trace up and down my arm. "No, you're more of a spoiled kitten. Only makes mischief, but she's so cute you can't stay mad at her."

"Sounds nice," I mused dreamily, my inhibitions lowered by her continued touch and taste on my lips. "I'd like that."

Until I realized what I'd just said, at which point I blushed bright red and buried my face in my hands. She'd only been mocking me, obviously.

Natalia's stroking paused. "Oh?"

"'M kidding," I grunted, actively cringing into myself on her lap.

"Awfully strong reaction for a joke."

I didn't respond. Apparently undeterred, Natalia shifted around behind me for several seconds before clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Here, girl."

Glancing upward, I saw her patiently holding a small chunk of meat in front of my face. But when I reached for it, she pulled it away and let out a disapproving 'tsss.' When my hand went back to my side, she held the morsel close again, at which point her meaning became clear. Oh.

Oh.

I wriggled in discomfort as a fresh wave of humiliation crashed against me--she was taking the joke awfully far.

"Natalia," I whined.

"You don't want it?" Yet there was no malice or cruelty in her voice; only intensity, desire, and a touch of tenderness. Whether she'd admit it or not, she was offering far more than food, and hoping I'd accept.

This...this was unbecoming of my station, regardless of our marriage or the intimacy of the moment. When hedonistic nobles fed each other grapes on romantic retreats, nobody lowered themself in the process. Doing so would be improper.

Lucky for Natalia, I didn't care in the slightest about my station. I wanted to lower myself, and spoiled kittens always got what they wanted.

I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around Natalia's fingers, accepting her offering of food. There'd be time to figure out what this all meant later. For now, I felt warmer and safer than I had in ages, and that was enough.

Piece by piece, Natalia hand fed me the rest of the portion I'd cut earlier. Neither of us spoke. And once I'd eaten my fill, I curled up against her chest and listened to the rhythm of her breath.