The Arcane King Ch. 02

"My Queen, would you care for more wine?"

Nareena awoke from her daze and nodded to the winebearer. "Thank you," she replied softly as the music played in the Great Hall.

She was queen now, wasn't she? She considered the idea as the jester danced about, entertaining the noble guests. Well, not exactly, she thought to herself. In order for the marriage to be binding under law and God, they would have to consummate the marriage. Her mind wandered back to the memory of only a few hours earlier, in her bedchamber. She did not suppose that counted, as King Gregory seemed knowledgeable of the rules of such things...of many things as it turned out.

She sipped her wine to calm her nerves and looked around the hall. So many strangers here to celebrate her. More likely, to celebrate their king and his treaty with Ireland. She was simply a part of a bargain. She held no ill feelings for her father; she had known all her life of her role as a princess. She knew marriage would never be for love. Not for her. Her hand held too high a price to be wasted on infatuation. She was always destined to serve her country in this way.

Her eye caught the gaze of a knight laughing with the king. His warm smile brought a blush to her cheeks, and she looked away as she sipped her wine, cursing herself silently as she realized the wine only exasperated her current state. The king began to walk in her direction while continuing his conversation with the knight. When they reached her chair, she rose to curtsy and the knight laughed as he quipped, "I've never known a queen to curtsy to anyone!"

Her blush deepened with embarrassment at this bold gentlemen who had laughed at her and chastised her all in a single breath. She glanced up at her king, wondering if her foolish behavior annoyed or endeared him. His cold expression gave no emotion away.

"Sir Charles, I would like you to formally meet my Queen, Nareena of the Isles. My Queen, this is my most loyal knight. I trust no other with my life so much as this man."

The man who had been so bold but a moment ago straightened his form and bowed before her. She regained her composure.

"Sir Charles," she said calmly as she held out her hand. He took it in his and gently kissed it, gazing up into her eyes. Her heart quickened, and she chided herself for drinking too much wine.

"It is time my queen," King Gregory said evenly. She met his eyes, wondering if she would ever be able to read his emotions. He could very well have been stating it was time for dessert, his face seemed so passive, but she knew the meaning behind his words. She nodded as her handmaid arrived to accompany her to her new room--the king's bedchamber.

"The king has asked that you wear only your underdress. All else will be taken for washing." She let her handmaid untie her dress and her corset, leaving her bare until she returned with her underdress. Nareena raised her hands into the air as the underdress slid down her body, covering her in a thin material that displayed every detail a garment was meant to hide. She supposed there was no point in hiding her body anyway. What was to come left no room for modesty.

Her handmaid dismissed herself, leaving Nareena standing alone in the chilly room. She could hear her own heartbeat in the silence that surrounded her. What if he was rough with her? Her mind drifted back to the conversation with her mother as she told her there were many different kinds of lovers; it was her duty to please the king in whatever way he preferred. The thought made her shiver even more than the cold, and her nipples hardened beneath the thin gauze of her underdress. She fought the urge to cover her breasts. He would, after all, see every part of her. Touch every part of her. Taste every part of her perhaps? The memory of their first meeting earlier in the day made her quiver within.

The heavy wooden door opened, and she stood waiting expectantly. But it was Sir Charles who came bursting into the room as his laughter filled the air.

"Alright Gregory, why have you dragged me all the way here so late in the evening?"

His feet stopped cold when his gaze fell upon the new queen, scantily clad before him. His eyes went wide and traveled the length of her body before she could collect her wits and cover herself.

"What on earth are you--" She began to scream, but the entrance of her king behind him scared her into momentary silence. "My King, I did not ask him here!"

"No, you did not." He replied in his calm, even voice that she could never decipher. "I did."

The shock of his words left her speechless. Her eyes flickered from her king to his knight, who seemed to be no more knowledgeable than herself of the situation by the look of it. She did notice that he could not help but glance at her body once more as she stood there all but bare before both men.

"My knight has served me well in many battles over many years. He saved my life once, only a season ago. I am in his debt."

He looked to Sir Charles, and the knight looked as though he was about to respond but the king continued.

"I do not desire to be in anyone's debt." The king looked at her then, with resolve in his eyes.

"Sir Charles, I have never seen you want for anything. You eat the finest of foods at my table, drink only the best of wines, and have no lack of women seeking your bed. It is hard to repay a debt owed to a man who wants for nothing."

King Gregory slowly crossed the room to his new bride. He reached out his hand to caress her bossom through her underdress. She gasped at his touch and looked up with embarrassment to find Sir Charles looking back at her...

And instantly she recognized that same hunger she had seen in the king's eyes earlier that day. Understanding washed over her as she realized what he wanted for. The king spoke, confirming her thoughts.

"I watched all evening as you stole glances of my bride. She did not notice your revelry, but she is too innocent to have recognized the signs of desire."

"My King, I would never--" Sir Charles began to protest, but King Gregory held up a hand and his voice fell silent.

"Of course you wouldn't. You are the most loyal of all my knights. And that is why this will repay my debt."

She looked at her king with disbelief in her eyes. He would not, could not actually allow this! On their wedding night? Ever? She glanced back at the knight before her, praying she would see reason in his eyes, that he would put an end to such foolishness. But he only continued to hold the stare of his king, who held out his hand and motioned for him to come near.

Sir Charles slowly approached Nareena, his breath shallow with nerves--or was it anticipation?--and as he looked to his king one more time, reached out to touch her breast.

"Yes, Sir Charles. Take your queen, and fulfill your deepest desires." Sir Charles lowered his mouth to her breast and began to suck on her nipple through the thin gauze of her underdress. Her gasp at his tongue on her hardened nipple urged him on, and suddenly he had lifted her by her thighs and placed her on the king's bed.

"Yes. Take the queen on your king's bed. Have your way with her. You will serve me well all of your days knowing you have had what no other man ever could. You deflowered your pure, untouched queen on the king's own bed. And for that, you will forever be in MY debt."

As the king encouraged him, Sir Charles unbuckled his pants and cast them off, his eyes locking with hers as her breasts rose and fell with the quickening of her heart. His hands, rough like his king's, began to run up her thighs to gather up her underdress and lift it over her head. He stared at her naked form as it fell to the floor beside him. Then he discarded his own shirt and stood before her. Her breathing was hard, her body shook with nerves, and she lowered her eyes from his to take in his strong, muscular form. The tight, chiseled body of a warrior. A knight who had fought and killed and defended the kingdom she now reigned. Did he not deserve repayment for his selfless service? Her gaze slowly traveled down the lines of his torso in appreciation. And even lower...

Her eyes widened at his long, hard cock. A "cock" her mother had told her, because it will wake you up when it is good and ready. She tore her gaze from his eager member and found his eyes again. He ran his fingers through her hair as he stared at her and then suddenly grabbed a fistful and pull her head back as he lunged for her neck, kissing, licking, and sucking. She looked to her king pleadingly, "Wait, please!"

King Gregory walked over calmly, leaned down and took her hand in his. Then he placed her hand on Sir Charles's cock. "You are his tonight, my queen. I will watch to ensure you make it worthy of my debt."

"My Queen," Charles moaned as he kissed her naked breast. "Oh God, my queen. Even your touch ignites a fire within me. Let me pleasure you. Let me fill you. Let me serve you, my queen, until you cry out my name." His words acted as kindling, sparking a flame within her as well. She groped his cock, and he bit down on her nipple in response. She cried out, from pleasure or pain she knew not, and he reached between her legs to elicit further sounds from his queen.

As his fingers entered her parting lips, she began to stroke him. He groaned in response and enveloped her in a passionate kiss, invading her mouth with his tongue as he thrust his fingers deeper, seeking to find the source of her whimpers. Her grip on his cock tightened as she mewed and panted for more. As she felt her desire build within her, she prayed to the old gods and the new that she would not burn for this unholy act. Though if she did, she realized, she would not regret it even then.

"My knight," she gasped as she pulled away from his kisses. "My knight, please. Let me be the..." She fumbled for the words to convey her longing "...sheath to your sword."

If he found her attempt at veiled coquetry foolish, he did not show it. His eyes darkened, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as his fingers slipped out of her wet entrance and reached for his...sword to replace them.

"As you wish, my queen," his husky voice low with desire hung in the air as she waited with bated breath.

He positioned himself against her, then moaned as he broke past her wall, conquering her body as he had so many lands as an obedient knight. She cried out and clutched at his muscular back as he thrust deeper and deeper inside her. Tears slid down her cheeks and into her hair as he leaned over her to spread her legs wider, to fill every crevice of her womanhood.

"Yes, my queen, " he grunted as he quickened his pace. "Your sheath is tight, but I will make my sword fit by the end of our time together."

She began to cry out, for what she was not sure. The pain and pleasure had become one and the same. He pressed his body against her, rubbing every part of himself against every part of her, causing her temperature to rise as her body responded to his heat, his pulse, his cock driving into her over and over again.

"Look at me, my queen," he demanded suddenly as he filled her. She found his eyes with her own. "You shall have another man every day after this one, but tonight you are mine. Tell me you are mine."

She turned her head instinctively to find her king, her husband. He grabbed her chin and brought her eyes to his once more.

"Tonight there is only me. Tell me you are mine."

He slid his arm under her knee and lifted it as he slowed his pace, painstakingly slow, within her. She moaned and whimpered as this miraculously built her pleasure up higher and higher.

"Please don't stop my knight," she begged as she arched her back to take him deeper. "I need you. All of you."

"Tell me," he repeated as he ploddingly took her closer and closer to the edge of reason.

She could not bear it any longer.

"I am yours, Charles," she said breathlessly as she gazed into his eyes. "I am yours to take and conquer and own. I am yours to fill. Please, Charles, fill me. Do not make me wait for this moment any longer."

Her last breath was taken as his lips crushed hers, passionate and hungry, and he lost himself in the pleasure she gave him. She cried out his name as he thrust harder and faster. Her walls tightened around his cock and she came, ferociously, unyielding, even as she knew in the back of her mind that her husband was watching.

"Nareena!" He cried out as he came deep inside her, sinking into her one last time. He collapsed on top of her, catching his breath and fondling her breast. She wrapped her arms around him and ran her fingers through his dampened, sandy curls. He raised his head just high enough to find her eyes and smile.

"My Queen," he spoke softly. "You are the most priceless gift I have ever received. I pray I have proven myself worthy of you."

"My knight," she replied as she played with his hair. "I pray..."

What did she pray in this moment? That he prove himself worthy again and often? That her vows on this day had been offered to him and not the loveless king who had not thought twice to serve her like a meal to be devoured? But no, she could not pray such things on her wedding night. This night where she was to offer herself for her new husband's desires, and how could she do so while under the body of another man?

"I pray...that I have been worthy repayment of my king's debt to you."

She watched as her knight's eyes darkened with...what? Pain? He stroked her cheek gently, then pressed his hips against her one last time. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a silent gasp at the reminder that his half hardened cock was still inside of her. He brushed his thumb over her lips and said, "Yes, my queen, you have been worthy indeed."

Then he rose swiftly, dressed, and walked out of the room, pausing only to bow at his king, though he could not look him in the eye.

Nareena curled up her body in the fur covering of the bed, suddenly ashamed of this king who would offer his queen without hesitation and of this queen who would enjoy it so.