Page 59 of The White Enchantress

I stare down atthe dragon pressed into a golden wax seal, afraid of the words written inside. Guin and I have only had three months together. I had hoped we would have more before being called back to Camelot, to court life. I want nothing more than to keep Guin to myself. Forever. I do not wish to share her with another human, let alone Arthur and his court. Guin is mine.

Not to mention, there are too many people residing at Camelot I do not trust. Perhaps I should feel obligated to protect Arthur from these villains. However, Arthur can take care of himself. And he, too, is distrustful. Even of his own nephew, Mordred.

Arthur only trusts a handful of people. I am lucky to count myself as one of them. And I am grateful to Arthur for blessing my marriage to Guin. For without his blessing, I am not sure I could have married her.

Maybe we would have run away together, seeking a corner of the world far from Arthur and his knights. Maybe I would have been happy enough to forget my treachery. Though at the merethought, I feel my guts swirling around inside me.How could I ever betray Arthur? How could I live without Guin?

“Who is it from?” Guinevere asks after swallowing another bite of her pizza.

“Arthur.”

“Already? I thought we would have more time.”

“I had thought so as well. But we do not know yet what it says.”

“What if you don’t open it? Then we don’t need to act on it right away.”

“I cannot ignore a letter from my king.”

“I’m not saying ignore, only delay. At least until the morning.”

“I do not wish to return to Camelot either, Guin. We must. It is our duty.”

“Yes. I know this. I just…well I thought maybe I would get pregnant and then we could use that as an excuse to stay at home. Honestly, I thought I would already be pregnant by now.”

“These things take time. Do not worry. Soon enough, your stomach will be swelling with a baby inside, your breasts plump and tender.”

“Of course you would focus on how large my breasts are likely to get from knocking me up. Men.” Guinevere rolls her eyes at me, a smile plastered across her face. She is pretending to be annoyed with me, something she does frequently in jest. What a wonder this woman is. She says the most shocking things sometimes, never shying away from being blunt. One of the things I love about her.

“I will open the letter in the morning. Now eat up. I want to take you to bed and fill you with my seed at least a dozen times before I read the words within this letter.”

Goosebumps pour down Guin’s arms at my words, my eyes never leaving hers. Desire. That is what I see in those dark green emeralds. “Promise?” She asks.

“Yes. We will read the letter together.”

“No. Promise you will fuck me twelve times before morning?”

I laugh, but she is serious. Twelve is maybe an impossible number for a man in such a short amount of time. “At the very least, I will pleasure you a dozen times.”

Guin finishes her meal quickly, waiting for me to finish my roasted chicken. I deliberately slowed down chewing, letting her passion and desire for me stew. And though I am feeling full from thepizza, roasted chicken and various vegetables served for our dinner, I pretend to keep picking at my plate.

Not easily fooled, Guin sits back down on my lap. Her lips find mine as her soft curves push against my body. Kissing Guin is spiritual, mystical, magical. One of those or maybe all of them at once. She fills my soul with hers. Her desires become mine.

I kiss her back with equal fervor, needing her touch to deepen, not caring if anyone in the dining hall is watching. Let them watch. As I bring my hand up to her breast, gently squeezing, Guin pulls back from my embrace.

“You know what? I think I’m still hungry. I wonder what will be for dessert.”

Instead of returning to her own chair, Guin sits her plump little ass on my lap, burrowing against my groin again. Now it is her turn to tease me. I should have known she would have a play in this game I started.

“Faina, do we have any desserts?” Guin calls out to the tables where Faina had been sitting with the rest of the kitchen staff.

“Yes, my lady, let me fetch some for you.”

“No, Faina, I can go. You sit and enjoy your supper.”

“It is no bother, my lady.”

“I am already up and on my way to the kitchen,” Guinevere shouts as she rushes out of the dining hall.

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