Responsibility Ch. 23

They took turns. Bite for her, bite for him. Not only the fish. Everything else was shared.

She even gave her sips of his wine. She supposed that would mean he'd be much less drunk in the end, not that he couldn't handle a good amount of alcohol.

The arm of his that wasn't feeding her was kept around her bare shoulders, keeping her close. She imagined that if she touched his chest, she might've felt his heartbeat.

Once the food and drink were gone, the Emperor flung his head wrap away; it patted a wall and landed on the floor. He climbed out of the tub and walked over to a stack of linens to dry himself off. By the time Rahela was also standing outside the tub, wringing her hair, he seemed to be mostly dry, or dry enough.

He threw his now damp cloth to the floor with the same careless attitude as his head wrap. Then he took up another cloth, opened it up, held it before himself, and smiled down at Rahela very expectantly.

Hair still in her hands, Rahela stared up at him, hardly blinking.

A warmth grew behind the man's eyes. The lines around them lengthened. Rahela still remained where she was. She even wondered if the man would trick her, picking her up and throwing her into the water behind her.

One of his fingernails tapped the hanging fabric as he said, "Come."

Rahela took a step forward. Then again. She paused and looked back at the glistening water.

The cloth was wrapped around her. She tensed. He had his frolicsome moments.

The Emperor pulled her hair out from under the cloth.

His hands moved again.

She trembled.

He was drying her skin.

Rahela was stiff during the whole thing. She was even concerned about his humming, and he was indeed humming. It was as if the world had been flipped over.

Her flesh was hot and pink when he was finally done. He threw the cloth aside and took one of her hands, leading her away.

Nobody else was in the bedchamber. Rahela hadn't expected anyone. Of course the Emperor would tell the chamberboys and attendants to leave. He was home after a long journey. He needed to go on to the business of creating an Imperial Heir.

Up to the bed, behind the curtains, on the mattress.

Under him.

He held some of her still damp hair. He growled as he kissed her lips, although there was more suction that might've been necessary. Rahela had to breathe through her nose. She wondered how long this time he'd have their tongues tangle, or to be more accurate, how long he'd play with her tongue while she passively let him do whatever pleased himself.

It had been a long time.

She was making tiny moans.

Her brow furrowed. She'd thought she'd be less responsive this time. Shouldn't her lust have faded, or at least cooled?

His teeth dragged on her lip when he finally moved away from her mouth. She felt those teeth a few seconds after that. Then she truly felt them on her throat, raking down. At her breast, Rahela felt him again, his lips hot and teasing on her nipple.

Pinching. Nibbling. Making her squirm.

He let her hair go, but he kept her attention very well. A kiss, a light touch of teeth, then a drag of his tongue. Rahela knew her nipple was firm. She put a hand to her mouth and muffled a few light gasps.

"Hm? Don't you love a kiss?" Rahela looked down at his dark hair. She saw his head rise and his eyes sparkle at her.

She loved knowing her husband was going on with his business, at least.

Her head turned to one side. She reached up to pull her hair into a more comfortable place on the bed.

"Hm? Little Bacon? You don't love a kiss?"

He held her breast and played with the nipple. It tingled. Rahela pressed her tongue against her teeth as she flinched.

"Ah. Then I won't give you any more kisses."

Rahela's belly retracted and she nearly bit her tongue.

"I'm rather tired, though." He shuffled away and rested on his back. With an exaggerated sigh he waved his hand and said, "Kiss me."

Rahela folded her arms over her chest. Then she pushed herself to a kneeling position. She looked over at the nude man that waited for his demand to be completed. His broad chest moved evenly with his breath, but his penis was slightly full, almost ready to rise.

She sighed and moved back so that when she knelt down she had a better angle. She could smell more of the fragrance in his hair. The bacon soap she'd given him long ago would've lost its fragrance by now. She assumed this fragrance, which had a creamy scent, was from a soap or oil she hadn't personally seen.

His upper lip twitched, then a corner, as if he wanted to chuckle at her. His eyes were closed.

Rahela put her arm across his form and her palm on the mattress. Some of her hair slid down onto the Emperor's chest as she lightly stamped his collar bone with her lips. Then she moved up to put another little stamp on his lips.

Some of the veins in his arms moved as some of his fingers bent. His lips parted. Then he said, "Lower than that."

A puff of air came from her throat, sounding like a weak little cry. She set her sights down the man's belly, past several scars. Then she put a kiss some inches above the navel. There wasn't a reaction to that.

Likely feeling impatient, the Emperor reached up to take one of her hands. Then he guided it right on his penis. He even arranged her fingers to curl as he liked.

When he had both hands relaxing on the mattress again, Rahela took a moment to think.

The penis slowly rose in her hand, flooding warmth into her. Penises responded well to tightness and warmth, lubrication too. She understood that. Yet, as she watched the soft flesh darken with a blush, as the muscles swelled and twitched, Rahela had to use think to come to the conclusion the Emperor wanted.

"Ah!" Her thighs clenched as she remembered something admittedly wonderful the Emperor had once done for her, a very interesting sort of kiss.

Well ... she knew she wouldn't be able to sink the entire length into her mouth, but she could give it a try. He was her husband, and she believed she was meant to please him. Besides, he'd already done something with similar results for her before.

She shuffled down to get closer. She moved her fallen lock of hair behind her ear. Then she adjusted her body to more comfortably get a better angle.

The wet scents of flowers and herbs from bath water were just barely weaved into his natural musk. It wasn't distasteful. She wouldn't end up vomiting.

A bracing inhale. Then an exhale.

There.

The head was the widest, but the shaft was also significant. Rahela's eyes popped for a moment.

"Don't use your teeth."

Rahela wanted to say she understood, or at least nod, but she wasn't able to do any of that. She did recognize the instructions, and she kept her teeth out of the way. She wondered if her tongue made the space tighter. Did he like the texture?

The taste was different from his mouth. Sweatier, even after his bath, it was sweatier. Years and years of living as a human. It was how he was meant to taste.

Rahela knew than when a hard penis went into a vagina ... or anywhere else it wanted to be ... it didn't usually stay still. It usually moved. If the penis couldn't easily move then the vagina, or whatever, was meant to move instead. So, she kept herself steady so she could move her head up and down.

The man's purring-like voice was a good sign. Even though she couldn't cover most of him, she was doing well. So, down and up. And again. She heard him hiss out something, but she didn't understand him. He didn't seem angry. Fine.

She focused on her body, holding herself up and keeping lips and jaw in the proper position, if it could be called proper.

Time was progressing. Saliva was oozing out from her lips, which really weren't a tight enough seal. A pain grew in her jaw. She barely realized that the man beneath her was groaning, cursing, and even writhing a bit. It reached a point where she even forgot what she was tasting, or even that there was a taste.

Could she even forget what she was even doing? Could someone be so focused on "doing the thing" that they were not longer aware that they were "doing the thing?" She didn't enjoy it, but she didn't hate it either. Her lack of enthusiasm, in a way, made her want to focus more, which meant she behaved as if she was enthusiastic.

For a tiny moment, Rahela exhaled through her nose quite loudly and wondered if it was shameful of her to feel this way. Yes, she certainly didn't have any affection for this man, but when he'd put his mouth on her he'd earnestly given her a sort of pleasure she couldn't describe very well, and he'd seemed quite happy to do so.

Shouldn't she at least pretend to do the same? Shouldn't she act as if his penis was the most delicious thing in the world?

She inhaled.

No. He'd tell she was lying. He was more experienced in these sort of things.

Besides, he knew she hated him.

Some more time passed. Her jaw was almost numb.

He shocked her a bit when he grabbed her hair and pulled her off of him. Rahela used the opportunity to wipe her mouth with her wrist and take as many deep breaths as she could.

Then he gave her directions that lightly confused her, all while he was smiling and giddy.

The Emperor had her lay down on her side, her back against his front. She felt his wet, hard erection against her buttocks. He even bent her legs a little. Then, he put his hot palm between her thighs, his arm stretching around her. Rahela sucked some of her bottom lip between her teeth as her labia and clitoris were teased by the rough fingertips.

His teeth went to her ear, where a careful little bite was given. Rahela's body moved in what was almost a cringe. She couldn't help it. That bite had sent a nearly frightful shiver all around. He whispered something about how she smelled like a cool and rainy morning, which didn't make sense to her, but she shivered at his tone. It was obviously quiet but still so raw. Then he whispered something else. "You don't love a bite?"

Rahela didn't know if she was meant to answer or not, but she chose the second option. Not a single word came from her.

He likely didn't care. He was still playing with her needy little body.

After a time, he seemed to tire of it, and then he positioned her hips and penetrated her from behind.

It didn't hurt. She was moist enough.

It was easy to bear. Even a bit pleasant. Her muscles seemed to flow around the stalk as she gripped a blanket underneath her.

This time around, there wasn't an orgasm for her, although she certainly couldn't claim that she'd been harmed.

It was fast and simple. She only had a few moans pressed away in her throat to give in response.

Why did her belly feel so empty, even though she was soon full of semen?

Why did Rahela sigh as if she'd been promised something grand?

***

For some time, the fungus that the Tashkilan prince had given Rahela had been allowed to grow in special little pots filled with wet soil and kept in a box with a lid.

Fungus thrived in moisture, warmth, and darkness. Now that the air was cooler, Rahela decided to harvest all the fungus and dry it out, but not in the sunlight. In the shade instead.

At this time, nearly everyone expected such a thing. The Empress Consort had a hobby. She collected poisons, toxins, and similar things. Wanting to grow more of the dangerous fungus was very consistent behavior for her. In fact, Rahela often commented about how pretty the white, almost tendril-like the clusters of fungus were. However, she refused to let anyone else be within twenty steps from the box. Whenever she wasn't admiring her fungus, Rahela would have the box locked up with three different padlocks, each one requiring a different key.

"Don't ever touch the fungus," Rahela regularly warned everyone. "If you do, your flesh will slide away as if you'd been peeled. It's one of the deadliest materials this world has provided."

Despite all the time Verala had spent as Rahela's favorite, she still hadn't fully accepted this hobby as something good. She didn't dare to criticize Rahela over it, but she didn't have any positive expressions either. One day, she even approached Rahela with an almost nervous tightness around her eyes, and she asked, "Your Majesty, I've heard you study these frightening things, and I half-disbelieved. Here the evidence is, and I still half-disbelieve." With closed fingers, she pointed in the direction of the fungus so cautiously kept. "Please tell me, doesn't Your Majesty ever fret over being poisoned?"

Sitting down and taking a sewing project to her lap, which was one of the Emperor's most comfortable set of braies, Rahela coldly said, "I fret over everything, and so should you." She threaded her needle with very practical, sturdy thread. "You're a woman destined for power. Your lineage is a perfect guide."

Verala put her curling fingers over her lips and asked as her eyes turned melancholy, "Could Your Majesty have more knowledge of my lineage than I do? I can't imagine there's anything noteworthy there."

"Intelligent and fine aristocrats," Rahela said. Stitch after stitch. Nimble little movements. "From knights to dukes. Assistance in wars, international and internal. Fine examples of loyalty to this Empire throughout." Knotting. Snips with scissors. "Did you assume I was thrust into Yahsin without any preparations?"

Verala only stared at her, her jaw twitching.

It might've been the most human-like response Rahela could ever remember seeing from her, aside from the vanity.

Rahela made a low waving gesture, the sort that told a person to walk away. "Go and practice dancing with my girls. I don't want to hear any more nonsense from you."

Verala obeyed very smoothly and easily, as she always did whenever Rahela told her to do something.

***