by Andromeda
Grunting, he gripped her waist and rolled them over. Pulling her legs over his shoulders, he pounded into her vigorously; panting heavily, listening to her breathy gasps. When she reached her peak, he felt her nails dig into his shoulders to keep from screaming out like she normally did. As for himself, he buried her face into her neck and groaned, pouring into her before he withdrew and laid at her side.
“That makes the fifth time today…” Philomena panted with a chuckle. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to distract me from ruling.”
“I am doing nothing of the sort,” Abeeku said with a grin, sitting up on an elbow and looking down at her. “But I would like to have you all to myself…”
She laughed softly and kissed his cheek. “You are so selfish.”
“Only when it comes to you…” he said with a grin, kissing her back. “So…have you decided yet…on what you wanted to do with the Persians?”
She sighed softly and pulled away to look at the ceiling. “I think…I’m going to go along with it.”
He looked at her shocked. “What? Why?”
“Because we do need to stop these tensions between our two countries,” she answered.
“B…But what about us?” he asked. “If he comes, then we’ll have to stop…”
She pressed her lips to his and grinned when she pulled away. “You didn’t let me finish. I never said that we wouldn’t stop. When that bastard last came here, he had a mistress, and from what I hear, it’s perfectly fine for men to have them. That will not be tolerated in my kingdom.”
He looked at her. “What are you saying?”
“I am saying…” she said slowly, her hands moving down his body. “That you shall be my mistress, the love of my life that no one will take away. All of Sparta loves you, so they will have no problem with it.”
He grinned and kissed her nose. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
“You could mention it more,” she said, bending down to kiss him, straddling him again.
He groaned, loving the feeling of being inside her; loving the feeling of them being one. This wasn’t just sex, as most people would have thought; to them, this was pure lovemaking, plain and simple. They knew that they belonged to each other and nothing, nothing, was going to tear them apart.
*******
The official announcement for the wedding was set, and Philomena herself signed the proclamation. Sent all through the many kingdoms, the planning period soon began. Planning a royal wedding was tough, and Philomena gave all control to her mother as she seemed the most qualified. Zenobia threw herself into her work, making sure that this wedding would be the talk of the world.
Matthias, who had returned for her coronation, also helped, using his connections from his travels to bring in things that Sparta had never seen before. Philomena helped, but only when she wished for something to be done; the rest of the time she spent in her studies, with the council, or in the bedchambers with Abeeku. The young man was the least happy of all with this news.
He was still upset that out of all they had been through, Philomena still wanted to marry Darius. To him, it made him wonder if she was ashamed of him. To him, it made him feel as if he wasn’t good enough to stand officially at her side. He hated that feeling, and when he took her into his arms at night, he was ravenous in his lovemaking. Using her body to show how much he loved her, using his body to show how dominant he was.
Philomena loved it this way, though. She didn’t know that was what he was doing; in her mind, he was just showing her how much he loved her. To her, this was nothing new, as she thought that all couples did it. However, she had a feeling there was something under his ravishing her at night; yet, she just shrugged it off. Instead, she threw herself into her word.
She had a plan when Darius was to arrive, as she would never forgive him for putting his hands on her. The next time he tried it, she would order his hands cut off; he was coming into her kingdom, not the other way around. She was going to show him that she wasn’t a meek little girl, the girl that she had grown up being. Gone was the little princess; what stood in her place was a queen.
Chapter Twelve
“Announcing his Royal Highness, King Darius of Persia!” the herald called out.
Darius’s black and gold robes swept the floor as he walked into the throne room. His eyes scanned the room, looking at the Spartan nobles who were watching him with critical eyes. He didn’t want to be here; in reality, he had hoped that the Spartans would break the marriage contract and he wouldn’t hear from them for the rest of his life. But his mother had other plans. The only reason he was here was because of her; the only reason that he hadn’t turned tail and left was because of her.
His eyes locked onto Philomena sitting on the throne, and strangely, his heart began to quicken in his chest. She was wearing a golden diadem on her forehead. Green and silver—which he by now had realized were her favorite colors—decorated everything about her. Her dress, her jewelry, her makeup; she looked like a tree nymph, a vision of beauty and grace. However, there was coldness in her emerald-green eyes, a coldness that seemed to be locked onto him.
“King Darius,” she said in a haughty voice. “We had begun to think that you wouldn’t ever come to the kingdom.”
Darius stopped at the foot of the dais and looked at her, an eyebrow arched. He didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter, but her mannerism disturbed him slightly. “Of course we came,” he said back. “How else would we greet our future wife?”
Her lips curved into an unsympathetic smirk. “From the reports that we hear, there is another who acts as your ‘wife’.”
Heat flushed into Darius’s cheeks at what she was implying. He had brought Amani with him, of course, yet he didn’t know what the big deal was. A deep chuckling next to Philomena made him look to a man with dark brown skin and long black hair. Muscles rippled under his oiled skin, his chest bare, the only thing he had on were leather leggings and a heavy sword at his side. Darius didn’t know who he was, yet the way he laughed at what Philomena had said made him wonder if she had a brother he didn’t know of.
“I know not what you mean,” Darius finally said when his silence was becoming rude.
“I highly doubt that,” Philomena scoffed. She stood and held out her hand, the guard at her side took it, tucking it into the crook of his arm. “The servants will show you to your chambers,” she said. “You will have to dine in your chambers; everything is getting ready for the wedding in the morning.”
Darius’s eyes widened. “T…Tomorrow?” he stammered. “I didn’t think…it was to be for another couple of weeks…”
Philomena laughed bitterly. “Oh, I see. Well then, let me inform you that it is to be in the morning. Have a good day, my lord, and welcome to Sparta.”
She swept past him, the scent of her perfume filled his nose, making Darius groan softly. Turning around, he looked at his court that had come with him and saw that they were watching him in shock. A woman had embarrassed him before his whole court, before all the nobles in the room; that wasn’t to be tolerated.
Red bloomed in his cheeks as the servants led him from the throne room, and to his chambers. He inspected them, surprised that she had given him the best furniture and even fresh food was there for them. Amani, who had at first traveled with the other servants, but had appeared at his side when they entered the chambers, looked around, also surprised to find a hot bath waiting for them.
“Well…” she said. “The girl seems…civilized…”
“She is a queen, after all,” Darius said as he looked around. “I believe her mother did that, only so that we could seem to be equals.”
“There is no equal to you, my king,” Amani said, rubbing his back.
Darius smiled, his ego stroked. “True…And if she is marrying me, then when we take the vows, she will promise to obey me. I won’t have a woman who thinks she can order me around; she will learn her place.”
*******
Inside her chambers, water splashed onto the tile floor from the tub, as Abeeku vigorously moved within Philomena. His hands tightened on her hips, his ears filled with the sounds of her breathy gasps of bliss. Her nails gripped the edge of the tub; her head was thrown back, his face was buried in her breasts, suckling onto the brown buds that topped them. Her back arched as she let out a loud gasp, he groaned as he released into her. Slowly, they came down from their high and began to chuckle, kissing and fondling.
“Well…this is one way to celebrate my wedding that comes tomorrow morning,” Philomena chuckled.
Abeeku frowned slightly and stood from the tub, his arms held her tightly as he carried her to the bed. Once there, he laid her down, got on top of her and began to pump his hips vigorously. “I don’t…want…to talk about that…”
Philomena groaned and gripped his shoulders. “Please tell me…that you’re not still upset about that… You know why I have to do this.”
“I know…” he grunted, slamming his hips into her. “I know! I know! But if I’m to be your ‘mistress’, then I demand all the benefits…” he grinned at her and rolled them onto their sides, putting her leg on his hip.
“Mmmm…” Philomena moaned. “Ask…and you shall receive…anything…”
He chuckled and gripped the base of her neck, turning her face to his so that he could kiss her. “Don’t make promises…that you can’t keep…”
She laughed, gripping him tightly. “You make me sound…so shallow…”
“Not shallow,” he said, sliding down to lick at her neck. “That is an insult to you…”
She groaned and gripped the sheets, feeling another release coming. “I…I’m not spending…the night in his bed anyway…if that is what you are worried about.”
“Oh?” he asked with a grunt, gripping her hips to push deeper into her. “I thought…”
“This is my kingdom,” she panted. “If I do not wish to sleep in his bed, then I shall not. He cannot force me…to do…anything I don’t want to…”
He laughed. “Have I ever told you, how much I love you?”
“You could mention it more,” she laughed back, putting one of his hands on her breasts.
His lips latched onto her neck as they continued, well into the night.
*******
The morning of the wedding, the palace was awoken early and everyone had jobs to be done. Water for baths needed to be boiled, food needed to be cooked, decorations needed to be set out. There wasn’t a servant that wasn’t busy with something to do, either from their masters or the stewards. Philomena’s servants themselves were the busiest as she was the most important on this day.
Abeeku was forced to leave her bed, though he had given her rear a playful smack before he left. He was smugly happy that she wouldn’t be staying the night with that Persian King, but would instead be with him.
The servants got to work: cleaning her body, taking out her clothes, putting on her makeup, doing her hair and more. They all had to make sure she looked her very best. Philomena would be representing Sparta this day, and if she looked sloppy, then that would speak badly upon the kingdom. No, they were under strict instructions by her mother to make her look like a goddess. It took several hours, but in the end, Philomena was ready, and what a sight she was.
Dressed in her signature green and silver, her gown was loose; her back bare while the front dipped down, revealing the swell of her breasts. Around her waist was a silver chain belt, with matching anklets that had bells on them; on her upper arms were pure silver armlets with emeralds on them. Her eyelashes sparkled with silver dust, a silver and emerald crown rested in her ringlets.
“You are ready,” a voice said behind her.
Philomena turned around in surprise and saw Zenobia. All the servants bowed and stepped away for the older woman to step forward and inspect their work. She circled Philomena, her eyes looking her over and then she nodded.
“You look beautiful,” she said in approval.
“Thank you, Mama,” Philomena said softly. “I…I wish Papa was here.”
Zenobia cupped her cheek. “I wish he were here, too, but we both know that he’d be so very proud of you. He really loved you, and would want you to be happy.”
As they walked down the halls to the temple, Philomena’s heart began to thunder in her chest. For a moment, she was seized by doubt on what she was doing, but when she saw Darius standing with Amani and talking, anger gripped her again. It was a pure insult that he had brought that woman to his wedding.
“King Darius,” Zenobia said sharply. “I wish you the best on this wonderful day.”
Darius turned to face them. He was dressed in black and gold, his hair brushed and his beard combed; he was perfectly clean. He looked very handsome, but she turned her head away and scowled to herself. She wasn’t trying to become his friend; this was going to be handled like a business deal. She wasn’t here to fall in love, she already had a lover; unlike a man, she didn’t need more than one. The look Zenobia gave Amani told the woman to run off, leaving Darius and Philomena alone.
“You look…good…” Darius said, trying to be nice.
“Oh, you think so?” Philomena scoffed. “I didn’t think you could see me over the exposed breasts of your whore.”
He frowned. “Don’t call her that…”
“I will call her whatever I want,” Philomena snapped. “You are in my kingdom, remember?”
“You will be my wife,” he snapped back. “So that means I demand your obedience…”
Philomena laughed bitterly. “You think that I will do any of that? You have so much to learn…”
Darius opened his mouth to retort, but the sound of the trumpets signaled that it was time. Grunting disdainfully, he offered her his arm, which she accepted and they walked inside.
*******
In less than two hours, it was done; they were officially declared man and wife. Darius was crowned King Consort of Sparta, while Philomena was crowned Queen Consort of the Persian Empire. In their main territories, they would share power. Though one might hold more authority than the other in some situations, they would try and be seen as equals.
The marriage might have been seen as a happy affair, if they would have either looked at each other or talked to each other. During the wedding feast, they didn’t say a single word to each other, and even when they were being presented with gifts, nothing was said.
Darius drunk plenty of wine, as he found the honeyed flavoring the Spartans had in their wine quite tasty. He also drank it for strength. He knew that he was going to have a fight on his hands in getting between Philomena’s thighs, and while he didn’t want to force her, he would demand his rights as her husband. When the time came for them to be taken to the bridal chamber, he stepped aside to talk to Amani, who was very cross.
“I won’t be gone long,” he promised her. “I will only do my duty and then leave.”
“You’ll still be in her bed,” Amani said with a poked out lip.
“Only for a little while, sweet one,” he said with a soft kiss on her lips. “I will be back before you know it. I love you, remember?”
He walked to his own chambers and changed into a linen robe before his servants came for him. They escorted him to the bridal chambers and he saw that Philomena was sitting on the bed, waiting for him. Her hair was loose about her shoulders; the gown she wore was semi see-through, which gave him glances of her lush body under.
Darius swallowed before he pulled himself to his fullest height and walked to the bed. A lot of his court called out bawdy jokes to the couple, and Zenobia looked at Philomena curiously. She wasn’t expecting to see a blushing bride on this day, but she didn’t expect her to be so…cold.
The Priest blessed the bed, asking the gods to bless Philomena with the fertility of Hera, and bless Darius with the vigor of Zeus. Then, everyone left the chambers. The air was silent; the only thing heard was their soft breathing. Darius looked to Philo
mena and exhaled deeply.
“I will be gentle with you,” he said in a deep voice. “You need not be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” Philomena said back. “Because you are not going to touch me.”
He looked at her in shock. “I…what…?”
“Let me explain to you how this ‘marriage’ is going to work,” she said tightly, turning to face him. “I will let you in my bed on my most fertile days; afterwards, you will leave me alone. When you have given me a child or two, you can return to that pigsty you call ‘Persia’ and never come back to my kingdom again. Understand?”
He was speechless. He didn’t expect this, and while he found it amazing that she would be so bold, his face flushed at the thought of her controlling him. “What makes you think I would agree to such a thing?” he demanded.
“Because you don’t want to be here,” Philomena pointed out. “You don’t love me, and I sure as hell do not love you. You’re not worth my time.”
“How dare you!” Darius snapped.
“Yes, I do dare,” Philomena said, standing up from the bed. “I dare to do a lot of things; do you know why? Because I am the queen of this kingdom; you are merely my husband.”
He was speechless. No woman had ever dared to talk to him like this. He found it strangely attractive, but also greatly annoying. He wasn’t going to allow some spoiled girl to try and tell him what to do; there was no way he could allow it. As she moved away from the bed, as quick as a snake, he jumped up and grabbed her arm painfully tight in his grip.
“I am your husband,” he said through clenched teeth. “You will listen and obey me!”
Philomena acted instantly, grabbing his own hand in a grip that Abeeku had shown her. Twisting her body around, it didn’t take long for her to have him pinned to the bed.
“Let me explain something to you,” she said through clenched teeth. “You are in my kingdom, and what I say goes. The next time that you dare put your filthy hands on me will be the last time you ever have hands!”
When she released him, Darius barked a Persian curse at her while he rubbed his sore wrists. Philomena didn’t care what he felt like, she had stated her terms; she had told him the rules of this game. Whether he decided to play was up to him, but she would be damned if he thought that he was going to walk all over her.