25
Pulling him in, it eased my mind that even knowing it was me, Fenrir would not be led to places in the dark he didn’t wish to go.
My heart was pounding in my ears as I pulled him up the narrow stairs to the doorway hidden behind tapestry. Three days ago, nearly four, he had asked me why — why did I want him? I ran from the question. I threw my duty at the question and still it burned in me for an answer.
Why him? And now I knew the answer, and not from anything anyone told me, but from my own lips.
"I am not your queen," I told him, gasping for breath and nervous.
"This is true enough, but you didn’t have to..."
"No," I said, interrupting him. "Your answer. Why I want you. The reasons are too long to list them all, but what stands out about you is that I am not your queen. You don’t want me because of duty or worship or obedience. You want me because you find me desirable."
"Oh," he said. "Yes, but the answer was for you."
"For me?" I asked.
"I just felt that if you’re going to risk your life, you should know why, that’s all," he told me.
"Risk my life?" I asked, confused.
"Do you know what the human body goes through during climax?" he asked me, his tone, and posture more serious than I had ever seen him.
Stepping closer he said, "It’s madness. Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, the heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes rapid and shallow. The brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere, secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you're lifting three times your body weight."
He put his hands on my shoulders, as if to comfort me. "It's violent, it's ugly, and it's messy, and if the Goddess hadn't made it unbelievably fun, the human race would have died out eons ago..."
"And, um," I stumbled, searching for words, "will we be doing this soon?"
"Oh, yes." His voice was a breath on my neck, yet pounding in my ears.
I had already changed from my queening gown to a simple shouldered green sleeve. His hands pulled it from my shoulders and slid down my body, pushing it to the floor around my feet — and there I was. Nude before him. My breasts full, and aroused. My hips round and beckoning. All of the sharp edges of my hips filled in and inviting.
Putting my hands on his chest, I absorbed the feel of him, experiencing an acute surge of desire.
I pulled up on his shirt until he took it off and then became breathtakingly aware of the brutal strength of his passion. My agile fingers, greedy with need, took care of the strings holding his loin cloths in place. My insides were soon in a storm of burn, tremble and yearn.
He nipped my earlobe and then kissed me deeply, and it was as if every pubescent fantasy I ever had came to climax in that moment.
All of those confused nights with my hips twisted and my thighs pressed together, needing, yearning, and not understanding what it was I should do, compressed into the ecstasy of that kiss.
My hands circled the hard length of him, and stroked his erection, feeling him rise inside like a furnace.
Lifting me, we were soon on the bed, and his mouth on my breasts, sucking hard at the ruddy nipples, which were as excited and solid as pebbles. My thoughts took off to the heavens with the sensation and the narcotic power of his musky scent which tasted like spice and aged leather.
Then kissing down my abs I twisted with anticipation for the ripples of pleasure to come. When he reached the apex of my thighs he licked me from bottom to top, probing with a slow repetitive rhythm for stretches of time beyond my restraint.
I clawed at his head, pulling his hair, begging him to take me. Then he sucked down on the pebble hard nub of my clitoris and I convulsed with climax, my head pressed back in my pillow with my chest pressed to the canopy, and my voice a long and unrestrained keening of joy and orgasm.
Gasping, my gut heaving, I looked around at the gold light from the candles, biting my lip as he moved his hips between my thighs and I felt the hardness of him pressing at my opening. A quivery awareness shot down my spine, that he was thicker than I had encountered before.
Rapid, shallow breaths pumped my breasts as he spread me open, and the divine sensation arched my back to better accept him.
The storm was unceasing, relentless. He drove into me like a man on a mission; like he’d been missing me for a thousand years.
His cock, with each thrust, stretched me to capacity. Pleasure and pain became one and the same and I held on to him. Clawed at his skin. Bucked my hips and took everything he offered. Blood hummed in my veins and my heart was near blowing apart from the heat. His motion changed, his rhythm became more of a staccato and I knew he was just as close as I was.
Another pump.
Another.
His fingers weaved through my hair and he held onto fistfuls of my locks as he grunted, my moans matching his sounds. The warmth of his seed seeped deep inside of me, mixing with my own juices. All the energy I might have had, left the moment my orgasm ripped through my core and I dropped back on the bed, spent. One hundred percent. Spend. It was everything he said it would be.
Well after, when we’d both recuperated, we drank wine and ate grapes, nibbled on cheese. Out on the balcony I kept touching him, as if to assure myself he was real and really with me under the stars, nude and bare to the goddess and the oceans and lands.
Inside again, we talked and he had me giggling as he poked fun at me. Poked fun at me! None of my men, love them as I do, had ever poked fun at me this way. At Fenrir’s hand I was open to all levels of critic and praise — candid and otherwise.
*
Sunlight. After the night I had with Fenrir, sunlight. Nothing could feel sweeter. And then it was sweeter, because I felt his heat behind me, lingering in bed.
"Decided to finally wake up, did we?" His voice low and close to a growling rumble.
"I don’t see you out there running laps or checking the guard," I told him.
"Not my guard, and I ran enough yesterday for a week at least," he said, pulling me back down to bed when I tried to get up.
"Hey!" I squealed.
"Hey, yourself," he countered.
"I have a realm to run," I objected, before he closed my mouth with a kiss.
He entered me again and though not as rough as last night it swooned me enough to take my mind from everything. Bliss and orgasm, and rising tides of both washing over me.
After my shower I was alone in my room. Having not expected him to remain as long as he did, this didn’t burden or surprise me. More than most, he was a creature of the outdoors. He could never be a threat to my throne simply because he would have no desire to sit there. The idea would pale his cheeks and curl his knuckles. This had the other edge however — he also would have no desire to be a permanent part of my court. Where did that leave us? Where did it leave me? I found my fingers tapping out a staccato and slammed them quiet — telling my mother’s ghost she need not haunt or remind me of my lessons.
Outside I heard voices rising up through the open doors to my balcony. My first thought was that the festival below was starting up again. However, Mark’s knock on my door had the sound of urgency, and his expression when I summoned him inside had the same.
"My’Lady, there is ... well... a message I believe. Travis the Engineer says it is one."
For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t ready. Not again. Not so soon.
"Travis?" I asked.
"It’s — a DVD?" he said.
"Just a disc? As far as I know we have nothing that will play that medium," I said.
"No, my’Lady, it is a player as well, fully charged. Travis suggests strongly that you should be the first to watch, with who you choose of course." Mark said.
The trouble with the DVD disks and why I didn’t put much resources into collecting them, is that over many years, the information fades and they become blank again. Even those found in dry and cool storage areas — whole libraries, all blank. Mark looked superstitious about the thing, but many did when faced with pre-Fall technology.
"Send for Iris, Karal, Adian and if he’s still around Fenrir. Look for him in the market. Also Doctor Alexis, and Víðarr if he wishes. And the head of the guard, Marcus. That sounds like the group. I’m of the mind that this is from our nemesis. You need to be here too of course. Best you get it straight than from an altered telling later."
"Yes, my’Lady. The planning room then?"
"Good as any. I’ll be there shortly." I told him and watched him close the door behind him.
Ships from the past, zombies marching in lines, ambushing the Kind in forest, hanging ghosts and now a message on DVD. It felt menacing, a means of intimidation.
My fingers were again busy with their staccato, but this time I let them drum. My gut in knots told me my first true moment as queen was at hand. Who I leaned on, how I made my decisions were from this point, just as important as the decisions themselves.
"Pull back the shroud, and let me see your face," I hissed to the quiet of the room.