the queen only trusts one man with her true needs
Anna slammed the door shut on her room and threw herself onto the silk linens that covered her bed. She wasn’t fit to be a queen to a husband who was obsessed with war, leaving her home to make decisions.
Clutching a pillow, she sobbed, feeling the weight of her duties ease slightly. Someone banged on the door, and she knew only one person dared follow her after her fit in the throne room. “Go away,” she moaned. She meant to shout, but her voice cracked and she dropped her head as the door creaked open.
“Should have locked me out.” He sounded amused as the door clicked shut. He turned the key, locking them away.
“That wouldn’t have kept you out.” She didn’t turn to look.
“I refuse to allow you to wallow in self-pity, my Queen. Turn and look at me. That’s why you brought me, to keep you steady.”
“I brought you because I trust you.” She turned on the bed and looked at her trusted servant.
Peter was a few years older than her, born to a serving girl in her father’s castle, who rose to the rank of head cook. When she was four and he was seven, he found her lost and crying in the garden’s maze. He led her out and became her friend and protector until they trained him to be a footman and she took her role as lady-in-waiting to her eldest sister. When she was sold off, married to a man twenty years her elder as part of an alliance, she made one demand. Peter accompanied her, and no one saw reason to deny a silly girl her request.
He was the only person in the world she could trust. The only person who loved her for herself, who saw the person beyond the crown.
He searched her eyes, and she couldn’t help but smile at the sparkle. “Promise me no more tears, my Queen.”
“I cannot promise that, Peter.”
He sighed and touched her cheek. “I can give you ease, make you forget everything weighing on you.”
“How?” Anna held her breath to keep from swooning at his touch. He rarely touched her, though she craved his embrace.
“Remember when we used to play rescue the princess?”
Her brows pushed together for a moment. “You’d tie my hands and feet in the garden and I’d pretend to be kidnapped and you’d come and rescue me?”
“Yes, I never quite grew out of tying girls up. Only I started doing it for far… naughtier purposes.” Peter’s eyes burned into hers, and a tingling sensation crept from her lower back to her head. She’d yearned for him for too long.
Anne didn’t dare more than touch his forearm. Even that slight gesture warmed her body.
“I’ve desired you, Anna. If we do this, in this room you are not the Queen. You will submit to me, you’ll call me Master. And I’ll make you forget.”
Words fled her as her fingers wrapped around his forearm, and she used his strength to pull herself off the bed, to stand before him. On her toes, she kissed him, her tongue darting into his mouth as she’d seen him do to various young women he had liaisons with over the years. Now it was her turn to have him.
Peter took control of the kiss, slowing her frenzy with deliberate, practiced movements. No one dared kiss her like this, with passion with desire.
His fingers worked the back buttons of her dress. The soft fabric billowed to a puddle around her feet. He kissed her neck and shoulders, whispering sweet words of appreciation while he unlaced her corset and tossed it aside.
“You’ve had practice.” She buried her face in his shoulder as he caressed her hips through her shift.
He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so he could see her eyes again. “I pretended they were all you. I’ve only ever wanted you. Now, I’m going to take your shift off, then bind your hands.”
He pulled a scarf from his pocket, and with a flourish, wrapped it around her head, plunging her into darkness with a firm knot at the back of her head. She touched the restraint, testing the bounds.
“I think you’ll be less inhibited like this.” He pulled her shift over her head, and her body heated despite the cold room. She stood completely naked before her best friend, and the man she loved. Was he staring at her? Did he like what he saw?
“Peter?” Her voice wavered. She wanted to say… something to connect with him.
“You are more beautiful than I thought, my love.” His fingers tickled her sides, so she squirmed, then he pulled her close, kissing her again. While he licked the inside of her mouth, he explored her body. Hips, the flat of her belly, shoulders, finally he covered her breasts. The tingling returned, spreading wherever he touched her, multiplying under her skin, gathering, taking up residence between her legs.
His initial touches were soft, pulling at her nipples yet untouched by anyone. Her husband, the king, did nothing more than flop over her. When she moaned, his touch turned rougher, pinching and pulling, rolling them with his thumb and forefinger. Her hips jutted up, bumping into his thigh.
When his mouth covered one hardened tip, she jolted from her body for a moment. When she returned, his tongue teased her, then he applied his teeth, scraping. She pushed her chest against him, yelping when e bit into her.
“Good or bad?” he asked.
“Good,” she whimpered. There was such wetness between her legs, she pressed them together to keep it from dripping down her thighs.
He bit again, harder, indenting her pampered flesh. The ache intensified as she rubbed her legs together, jerking toward him, seeking stimulation from his body.
“Have you experienced orgasm?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “By my hand.”
“I’d love to see that. Never with….”
She shook her head. “Marriage is not like that.”
He sighed and kissed her lips. “It should be. You should have — ”
“I don’t want that. I want you.” She found his shoulders and pressed herself against him. “Please, Peter.”
“Would you like to try more pain?”
“Yes.” She wanted whatever he offered. “If it will please you, Master.”
He tugged her hair. “Come, lay on the bed then. On your belly.” He helped her lay down, so her legs were off the edge, her ass in the air, breasts pressed to the soft linen. She took a deep breath. “I’m going to slap your arse.”
“Pain and pleasure are closely linked, love. Remember how I enjoyed hearing you scream?”
“We were just playing then.”
“We’re playing now too.” His hand smacked on her backside and she jumped. He slapped the other side, then the first. “The restraints.” He paused, and she listened to his footsteps move around the bed. He pushed her wrists together and tied her with another scarf, her hands stretched above her head, then he returned to her bottom.
His hands rained down steady blows, making her whimper, writhe, moan and cry out. Never once she did she ask him to stop. He was correct; the pain felt more than good. It was pleasure itself and better yet, it made her forget everything.
He stopped, his hand caressing her flaming arse. “Anna, love, are you still with me?”
“Yes, Master. I liked that.” She shivered.
“Me too.” His hand shifted between her legs, touching the river that flowed. “Damn it Anna, you really enjoyed the pain. I’m going to move you on the bed and roll you over and taste all the sweetness your body offers.”
He rolled her over and kissed the tips of her breast again, then down her body until he was between her legs, then he kissed her there too. Anna bit her bottom lip and arched into his mouth, wanting more from him. She wasn’t sure what would happen, but she loved the way his mouth moving over her heated her blood, thickening it so the world slowed.
Knowing it was her handsome Peter touching her rather than her wrinkled husband, drove Anna to the brink of pleasure and when his fingers gripped her ass, pulling her tighter to his mouth, licking the tiny button between her legs, she shattered. Her body broke into a million pieces on the bed, the liquid pouring from where he touched her.
He pulled her back together, into his arms, uncovering her eyes while he kissed her. His body was naked against hers, and she’d gotten so lost in her pleasure she hadn’t noticed him undressing.
His cock pressed against her opening, and she thrust to meet it. “Please, take me Peter. Make me yours.”
“You’ve always been mine. This is only a celebration.” He jerked his hips, filling her body.
She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his slim waist, pulling him deeper. “Yes, I am yours.” She howled, moving with his thrusts.
His hand edged between them, rubbing the pearl of pleasure until she trembled around him. Then he roared as his hips moved faster, filling her with his ecstasy. Then he stilled atop her, his weight squeezing the air from her lungs. This was familiar, but with Peter she loved the feeling of his slack body on her. She wanted to hug him back to life, but her hands were restrained.
When he laid beside her a few moments later, eyes searching hers again, he smiled. Anna smiled back, moving her arms. “Are you going to let me loose?” she asked.
He cupped her breast, his thumb circling her nipple. “Not yet, love. I like having you at my mercy for longer.”