Page 101 of Prize for the King
“Come here. Stand with your legs apart.”
I obey, holding on to his shoulder. Magnar looks into my face, and we’re practically level with him kneeling at my feet.
“I’ll breed my wife even when I can’t fuck her,” he says with a wicked grin. “Deep breaths, pet.”
XXXI Rule
He presses his full palm to my mound and rubs, then pulls away and works it in with one finger, gently coating the inside of my pussy with his seed. My heart beats fast, and my knees tremble. I can’t help it. I’m aroused, and I hate my own weakness so much right now. When I can’t contain a sob of frustration, Magnar smiles. He buries another finger inside me and angles his palm so the heel presses to my clit.
“Move, love. Unless it’s too much.”
I shake my head and begin to haltingly rock my hips. Yes, it’s just enough. Even better, I can kiss him when I stand and he’s on his knees, so we lock lips, my husband purring from pleasure as he slowly brings me to my peak.
“There you go. Just like this,” he murmurs when I orgasm, making pitiful sounds of bliss. “Good wife, coming so nicely while she drips with my cum. Come here, pet. Rest with me.”
No sooner than I settle in his lap, the knights file into the bathroom, yawning and rubbing their eyes. Arvi gives us a mumbled hello and goes over to piss while Khay gurgles some water by the washbasin, and Raduna stands by the tub, executing a half-hearted salute.
“The room is airing and the staff are bringing in new sheets. I allowed myself to ask for breakfast to be brought here for us all.”
“Bless you,” Magnar grunts, pulling me closer when I look around, wide-eyed and curious. “Caliane needs to rest. I suggest we all use today to get some strength back. I need to write my loathsome letters and talk to my ministers.”
“What letters?” I ask, peeking surreptitiously when Arvi and Khay exchange places with sleepy murmurs. It’s Khay’s turn to splash into the toilet.
All my knights are naked, naked, naked. Somehow, it’s so much more indecent in the light of day. Also, no one is aroused. Their cocks hang heavy, swinging with no clothing to restrict them. It’s all so… domestic. This is masculinity with its hair down, and it’s riveting.
“You’ll sprain your neck, pet. Turn around. And as for the letters, well, just one. I need to ascertain my claim at the Table of Kings. I’ve tried to write it for days. Makes my head hurt.”
“Can I help?” I ask. “I received lessons in royal correspondence, and my writing hand is neat and elegant. I’ll be of use.”
Magnar snorts, and Khay gives me an odd look, his hair disheveled and sticking out in all directions.
“Love, you don’t have to present your qualifications,” my husband says with amusement. “Of course, you can help. I bet you’re better at this than all of us combined.”
“He’s been trying to rope us into helping for days,” Khay says with disgust. “And you just offered so artlessly. Next time ask for something in return, my lady. Be more cunning.”
I shrug. “What would I even ask for? I have everything.”
Khay presses his hand to his chest with a flamboyant gesture. “Oh, my heart! Did you hear that?She has everything.Don’t know about you, but it just makes me want to spoil her with gifts and stuff. You’re too sweet, diamond.”
“More importantly, you don’t have to do chores to get what you want,” Magnar says tersely. “So don’t even suggest it, Khay.Whatever you ask for, pet, we shall provide. Now, I need to wash, because we’ve just soaked so far. Hand me the soap?”
There are a few bars resting on the lip of the tub, and I smell them in turns, finally picking the one that reminds me of forest and spices, a warm, clean scent. Magnar’s eyes are creased with pleasure when I offer it to him.
“That’s the one you want your husband to smell of?” he purrs. “Maybe you’d like to do the honors?”
He spreads his arms on the lip of the tub, offering himself to me, and I hiccup from surprise. Oh,gods,I want to. Slowly, I soap up my hands, studying him as I wonder where to start. I glide my palms down his throat and chest, flinching away with a giggle the first time his muscles jump under my touch. When I wash his armpits, Magnar snorts with laughter. His stomach tenses in a beautiful display.
“You’re ticklish,” I say with wonder. “I’d never suspect it.”
“My feet are the worst,” he admits through a cute snuffle as I tease him some more. “But careful, pet. If you have your fun now, I’ll have mine later. I’ll wash you, too. Dirty, dirty girl.”
“Gods, must you do it first thing in the morning?” Arvi grumbles, palming his rising erection. “I’ve fainted enough already.”
“It’s afternoon,” Raduna rumbles with amusement. It’s his turn at the toilet, and Khay is washing in the corner where a large basin stands over a tiled area with a drain.
Magnar groans. “No, I really have to get going. Will be listening to fucking reports for hours. I forgot how much I hate this part.”
I tickle him one last time and grin when he cringes away, covering himself like a bashful maiden.
