The First Queen: A Shifter Romance

by K. M. Carnoky

  “No. I haven't told anyone. People who witnessed certain things like your maids may have already assumed things, but I haven't told anyone,” he murmured.

  “Why not?” I demanded, slightly surprised.

  “Because,” the king whispered, “you are their queen. You are my queen.” His voice was filled with such passion, it startled me.

  When I brought my attention back to him, I noticed that he had dipped his head down towards the smooth curve of my neck. His eyes were closed, and I could feel every breath on my neck before he gently nuzzled me. That tiny gesture of affection seemed to break down his barriers. His hands tightened on my hips like he was trying to pull me closer and control himself all at once. I watched him intently in the mirror as he moved his lips towards the delicate skin as my heart pounded madly in my chest, wanting nothing more than for him to touch me. To kiss me. It felt like he had hypnotized me.

  And, finally, his lips brushed against the sensitive skin in a featherlight kiss. It was minimal, yet I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and tipped backwards, leaning my back against his shoulder. With that, the king finally let go of some of his restraint and began moving his mouth over the skin, his lips pressing firmer as his arms pulled me tighter against him. My breathing came out in little gasps, and my hands moved behind me to grip his clothing, needing more of him. The drunken state I was in had nothing to do with the complete ecstasy I was feeling now. I wanted to stay like this forever, with him holding me and kissing me.

  Until I felt his teeth bite down.

  I registered the threat immediately, and my mind filled with thoughts of the painful bloody wound he left on my neck the last time. Without thinking at all, I thrust my body away from him and clasped my hands around the place he had bitten. Clearly, there was no blood—it had only been a playful nibble at most—yet my heart was pounding away in my chest. And now it wasn't from pleasure.

  After I turned around to face the king again, I noticed his hands were up in a surrendering position, and his chest was heaving just as hard as mine was.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked.

  The compassion in his voice seemed to make my legs wobbly.

  “No.” I answered. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. It's just—”

  “It's alright. I understand,” he interrupted. The cold, distant demeanor had returned to his face and voice. “Come, let me help you out of your dress so you can go to sleep. I don't want you to be exhausted tomorrow.”

  I obeyed the king and moved back towards him, allowing him to finish the task of undressing me. I still watched him in the mirror, hoping I would catch him looking at me with desire or compassion. It didn't happen. His eyes were focused on my corset. I had broken whatever beautiful moment we had shared, and my heart tightened with regret. When I was left in my dressing gown, he turned away from me and told me he would see me the next day.

  “Stay,” I whispered weakly, watching his back move towards the bedroom door.

  “I don't think that would be wise, Willow. You need your rest. And I need mine.”

  He left without looking at me.

  Chapter Twenty

  I avoided the king for the next few days. I didn't know why. We had shared a rather lovely moment, even if it was awkward and I was drunk. It had been the most honest conversation we had since I arrived, and I think we moved pass some of our barriers. I was beginning to understand his guarded approach to love, and he was seeing my physical and emotional scars bit by bit. Yet I felt like I couldn't face him. I wasn't sure if it was because he had refused my advances at the end of the night or if it was because I was embarrassed by my actions through the entire evening. Maybe he thought of me more as a child than a wife now because I obviously couldn't handle myself around a little alcohol. Regardless, I stayed in my room as long as I could.

  To occupy myself, I asked my maids to find me a tutor in the palace, and they answered my demands with a stern old man who smelled like books and tea. The first time I saw him in that grand library, I fell in love with him. He was grumpy most of the time and didn't seem to think any mistake in the world was excusable. He was harsh and quick to correct. However, he was a very good teacher, and he didn’t step lightly around me, never putting my royal status above all else. Within two sessions with him, I was slowly learning how to read which, in time, would allow me to sneak books from the library and educate myself on topics that no one dared to speak about. I was tired of being in the dark; I wanted to know what my husband was hiding from me and what my maids were really gossiping about. I was going to be a real queen one day, or at least I hoped I would be. I wanted to rule kindly and fairly. To do that, I had to be educated.

  In addition to this, I could hardly ever bring myself to stay away from the library after I discovered it. Back on the farm, I thought I had been so lucky to have stolen my two books. But this . . . this was otherworldly. I suppose, in comparison to the rest of the palace, it was rather bland. The wooden shelving was high quality with fine craftsmanship that created wonderful details in the wood. Everything had clean straight lines with subtle designs instead of the usual over-the-top luxury. But the books. My goodness. There were books everywhere. All neatly placed of course. Each one had a specific spot, but there must’ve been thousands. Sometimes, I would just sit and stare, not reading, just overwhelmed by the knowledge that was surrounding me.

  Five days in, it seemed the king had had enough of my antics, and James informed me that, if I did not attend supper, I would be in trouble. Sweet James looked awfully anxious when he told me; his eyes revealed his concern, and my maids all held their breath at the demand. They knew how headstrong I could be, but not a single one of them knew how that drunken night had ended. There was a softness to King Archer that they might never see. So, I told James to let the king know that I was not interested in dining with him tonight, and I felt as if I were playing a delicious game with the king’s patience. My mind was filled with the sensations of my punishment. James hesitated, waiting for me to change my mind but bowed his head eventually and went to deliver my message.

  “Queen Willow, perhaps you should rethink your choices,” Isabelle suggested. Her voice shook with each word, and she was unable to meet my eyes.

  I gave out a little sigh, considering her suggestion for a moment as I played with the frayed ends my blond hair. I didn't like being the cause of anyone's stress. They didn’t know what my punishment had entailed, only knowing that I had been screaming, and it wasn’t uncommon for the king to threaten my staff for my actions. And maybe my denial would not end the way I intended it to.

  “It's too late now. James will reach the king soon enough. I will be alright though. You don't have to worry about me. Take the rest of the night off,” I recommended then moved my eyes over Jasmine and Lydia. Yes, this way they would all be out of harm’s way. “All three of you should go home early tonight and have supper with your families. I can handle myself, I promise.”

  No one seemed to believe me, which was fair because I didn't really believe myself. But they all bowed their heads kindly and left me alone in my room within a couple of minutes. At least, now, if it went sideways, I would be the only one affected by my defiance.

  I could do nothing but wait for my husband to arrive, and I was absolutely buzzing with anticipation. The only thing that filled my head was the sound his hand had made when it connected with my bottom and the jolt of pain and pleasure that rushed through me. Then I recalled the way his fingers had ventured towards my wetness. Maybe, tonight he would venture further. I stood in front of one of the large windows, watching the day wind down with my chest heaving and my mind spinning.

  “I thought we talked about your disobedience,” King Archer said as he entered.

  His voice was calm, and that scared me more than if he had yelled at me, but I remained still, gazing at the sunset. It painted the sky beautiful shades of pink and purple, and I wished I could be in the garden, watching the sun descend as the air g
ot colder. I had always loved that time of day, even as a slave.

  “We have discussed it,” I agreed.

  I knew the pain that would be coming. But I also knew that a part of me loved what he had done the last time. And I knew that he enjoyed it to some degree as well. He had just as hard of a time controlling himself as I did. And that was why I refused dinner—to see if he had more control now then he had had before. I needed to know if he wanted me just as much as I wanted him and if my drunken escapade had really broken down some of his resistance.

  The king didn't bother replying to me. He just unlaced my corset and let if fall down my body in a heap. I didn't try to save my modesty in the thin dressing gown. I just turned around to face him, letting him see my figure underneath the sheer material, and his gaze travelled from my face, down my neck, over my breasts, all the way to my legs. His expression didn't change, but I saw his breathing rate increase, and that satisfied me.

  “Why didn't you come and have dinner with me?” he asked, but his attention was not back on my face yet.

  “Does it matter?” I challenged.

  “If you have a reason I feel is valid, I will not punish you. Now, what is it? Are you feeling unwell?”

  “No, I feel fine.”

  “Then what?”

  “I simply didn't want to have dinner with you,” I replied hotly, testing him.

  The king assessed me once more, but I saw a look of determination cross his face, and that worried me. I wanted him to be mad, just enough that he would feel like he had to express his dominance over me. And I wanted to see untamable lust, the same lust I felt in my heart. It was the one emotion we shared when dealing with each other. I wasn't expecting resolve.

  “Clearly, my previous tactics didn't have the intended effect on you,” he murmured. “I think I'm going to have to try something different tonight.”

  “No,” I whispered, becoming worried. This was not what I had planned.

  “No? You didn't seem too concerned before. Why are you worried now?” he taunted. “Did you want me to punish you just as I had before?”

  I stayed silent and clenched my hands to conceal the small tremors that affected my hands and arms. I had done this; I had purposely defied the king and tried to rile him up. I had to face my punishment like a brave queen. Even if I wanted to drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness or at least for the previous punishment instead of the one he was conjuring up now.

  “Take off your slip,” the king ordered sternly, taking a step back.

  I hesitated, watching his face to gauge his seriousness.

  “Don't make this worse on yourself, Willow. Do as you're told.”

  I peeled off my slip with a level of obedience that seemed to please King Archer. My body was completely naked in the dying light, and it was the first time the king would be able to see me. All of me. The previous time I had been naked with him, I had been in complete darkness, and the first time he had punished me, my slip had covered a fair portion of my body. This was new. I could feel my chest heaving with every breath, and King Archer's eyes watched my breasts move as I shivered.

  “Lay down on the bed on your back,” he commanded.

  I couldn't read him. I couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling, and I had no idea what was coming next, but I didn't dare defy him again. I slowly walked over to the bed, knowing he was now watching my backside as I stepped. I was still nervous, still worried about what was to come, but I could feel the wetness intensify in between my legs as I climbed onto my bed, lying flat on my back. The king followed me and stood beside my bed.

  “I want your arms above your head.”

  I did as he said.

  “You are not to move unless I tell you to. Do you understand?” he asked.

  I just nodded in response.

  Then the king moved onto the bed, kneeling in between my spread legs. I didn't know if I was going to die from excitement or embarrassment, but with the speed my heart was beating, I was certain I wouldn't live much longer.

  A hand was placed on my jaw. I sucked in a hard breath as I shivered, but the king just pushed my head in the opposite direction, exposing my neck to him. I panicked immediately and began squirming, my mind filled with the potential pain I would receive. I couldn't go through that again, I couldn't.

  “Stay still, Willow,” the king murmured.

  I slowly stopped moving. And I was rewarded with his lips being placed against my neck in a wet kiss. My mouth opened, and a soft noise of pleasure wafted out when his tongue swept against the skin. The sounds kept coming as he made a trail down my neck, to my collar bone, and towards my heart. My chest was heaving hard with every breath, and my hands were gripping my own hair to prevent myself from squirming too much.

  He continued his way down my chest. He paused, his face directly between my small breasts, and I held my breath for a split second. Both of my nipples had hardened unbelievably, and all I wanted to feel was his mouth on one of them. I just wanted him to touch them and play with them until I couldn't stand it. But King Archer resumed his journey down my body, kissing and licking his way down to and past my belly button. I let out a groan of frustration, and my straining buds were quickly forgotten as he ventured lower. The wetness between my legs was undeniable now. King Archer could sense it too. When he got lower, his lips brushing over my navel, he peered up at me, and a pleased smile curved his lips.

  Cool hands were placed on my thighs, easing my legs further apart. I couldn’t control my panting at this point. Had I been any more aware of myself, I would've been embarrassed, but I couldn't force myself to care in that moment. All I was concerned with was what my husband was going to do next. I wanted him to do what he had done the last time I had been in a similar position. I was in ecstasy when his mouth had explored my most intimate regions. I had never felt like that before and I hadn't felt like that since. I wanted him to do it over and over again until I couldn't take it.

  His mouth was now on my right thigh, sucking on the skin until I let out a repressed moan and then an unsatisfied cry. My hands released my hair and dived into his. I tried to tug him towards my core, pulling on his soft hair as I whimpered. All I received was a pinch on my inner thigh as the king bit down.

  “Hands above your head, Willow,” the king warned, his breath fanning over the sensitive skin.

  “Please,” I begged, pulling his hair harder.

  “Hands above your head,” he repeated.

  I didn’t let go, testing him. But he was far better at this game than I was. Just his breath hitting the wetness was enough to drive me wild. I had no choice so I let go of his hair and reached above my head once more, frustrated and needy.

  “Good,” the king whispered, moving to the opposing thigh.

  He took his time, his mouth starting near my knee and moving up to more sensitive areas. Several times, I had to stop myself from grabbing his hair again. I felt like I couldn't handle it, like the pressure building in my body would be too much for me to take. But, somehow, I forced myself to keep my hands away from him. The last thing I wanted was for him to stop or even pause.

  Damn the king, though. When his tongue had finished tracing a line along the skin that connected my hip to my core, he lifted his head up, a defiant smirk on his face. I let out a exasperated noise that sounded like a strangled scream. It took all of my will power to keep my hands off of him in that moment.

  “Tell me what you want, Willow,” he whispered into the darkness. His voice was low and enticing.

  I knew what I wanted. I knew exactly what I wanted to feel and how I wanted him to release the pleasurable pressure that was building within me. But the words refused to come out of my mouth. It seemed so filthy. So unrefined. I couldn't force myself to say them.

  “Tell me,” he repeated, moving his mouth lower so I could feel every breath on my exposed folds.

  I just moaned in response, gripping the pillows tightly.

  “You don't want to say it out loud, do you?�
�� King Archer taunted.

  I shook my head, agreeing with his words. I couldn't make myself say it, no matter how bad I wanted.

  The king didn't have a hard time at all, on the other hand.

  “You're so wet,” he groaned. “It's a shame to waste it.”

  My heart jumped in my chest, and I waited expectantly for a finger to enter me or his soft tongue to press against me. But nothing happened for several seconds. I opened my eyes when I felt the king move, shifting away from me. The room was considerably darker now, but when I strained my eyes, I could make out his victorious smile.

  “A little bit of pain didn't seem to resonate with you. So maybe pleasure will. Sleep well, Queen Willow,” he whispered into the darkness as he pulled my blankets over me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “You picked up reading very quickly, my lady,” Isabelle praised. She didn't meet my eyes, just kept stitching away. As close as we were, I knew she would always be a little timid and shy around me.

  “Thank you,” I gushed, blush covering my cheeks with warmth.

  All three of my maids looked at me kindly, and it softened my heart. They had been nothing but supportive while I spent the last two days burying my nose in books. I would pace around the room and sound out words just like my tutor had taught me, and they all took it well, even when I bumped into them or mispronounced words awfully. Jasmine started to help me decipher the harder words I came across as she was a regular bookworm herself. But even Lydia, the woman who hardly knew how to read, would sigh softly when I mumbled sentences from old romance novels. It felt very good to have these women support me. And the praise was appreciated because I felt like I was hardly making any progress at all.

  “Where did the sudden interest come from?” Lydia asked as she fluffed some of the pillows on my bed.

  “I feel I should set a good example for young girls and show that everyone deserves an education,” I claimed.