Page 29 of Of Brides Of Queens

See had sent Is this time. Perhaps not Will Be, but he hadn’t sent the past to deliver this letter.

After breaking the seal, I unrolled the letter.

Perantiqua,

I tend to your feelings now as they pay me dividends in the form of your writhing moans. Without such feelings, would you scream and plead with me? I think not.

As I sit on my throne, I recall how your breasts bounced and how your hips circled. Your mouth was parted, and I might’ve put my cock in there had our powers been a better match.

How I wish to wrap my hands in your curls and take payment this way. How much could you accept? How long could you hold your breath?

These are questions that see me take myself in hand as I sit on my throne.

Three lessons.

The timing must be when I understand this spin of confusion in me. I hope this will not take overlong.

See.

“Lady, are you well?” inquired Is. “You are flushed with midnight, and I am reminded of an eclipse while looking at you.”

This leather dress concealed a full-body blush, and I was glad pawns couldn’t witness it.

I cleared my throat. “Wait here.”

Once inside my chamber, I slammed the door and read the contents of See’s letter again. The visual he’d created slammed into my head, and I raised a trembling hand to my lips. I couldn’t say how much of his cock I’d accept, nor how long I could hold my breath. But I wanted to do a lot of both. That would be the payment I would seek from him one dusk.

One dusk when he needed something desperately.

See was sitting on his throne and touching himself, and the confines of my dress felt somewhat torturous when I couldn’t part my legs whatsoever.

I sat at my writing desk giving very little regard for the quality of paper.

See,

You speak extensively of my body and that you only tend to my heart to unlock access to pleasures between us. I understand from this that you wish to reinforce your belief about love and that there be none in our physical agreements.

Three lessons. We are agreed in this at least.

As for the rest, I think myself as very accepting. Of air, I confess that I have never thought to deprive myself of it. I do know that the tightness of my dress would interfere with any experimentation, as I can feel my breasts swelling with every shallow breath.

Though the right king would not find the material too difficult to tear.

Think then what bouncing might occur.

Perantiqua

Did I dare send it?

Written words were rather more than spoken words. A written word was immortal. King See had mentioned nothing of my concerns about whether I could feel confident in him. In fact, he’d been very clear that my body was his chief concern, and then had steered our conversation toward just that.

He could use these words against me.

I looked at the letter. “I cannot send you, can I?”

How my desire wished to do so.

A queen must be more than her desire, perhaps.

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