by Zelda Knight
“How ready are you, My Queen?” The words startled me and Gaïndé mistook my reaction for worry about our imminent mating. I opened my mouth to explain myself but he silenced me again, pressing a calloused finger over my bruised lips. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll be mindful. I can’t promise you slow, but your pleasure will always come first.” He pressed a soft kiss on my forehead and my eyelids fluttered, like the lovesick creature I’d turned into.
King Gaïndé pushed the seam of my underwear aside and ran one long, thick finger through my wet folds, making me shudder with pleasure and need. His burning gaze never leaving mine, he roughly pulled the lace down my thighs. His thumb landed on my clit, pressing gently, rolling, pushing away the hood to reveal the hypersensitive bundle of nerves. I started loudly gasping for air. My nails digging into his corded forearms. Lips parted, breaths heavy, I heard myself repeat in an infinite litany: “My King, My King…”
“Yes, such a good girl. You like that?” He praised me, adding back the exploration of his middle finger through my folds. A frisson of pleasure coursed through my spine and I moaned loudly. “More?” He asked wickedly, pushing one finger inside me, drinking in my reactions, his hungry eyes alternating between roaming over my features and looking down to what he was doing to me.
I fought to keep my eyes open and take in as much of his beauty as I could, refusing to let my lids fall, to give in to the tsunami of pleasure building between my legs and to shut everything else out.
A second big finger came to join the first one, stretching me, pulling small cries of mixed surprise and bliss from my parted lips. His thumb still making sparkles fly at my clit. I felt my orgasm build. Gaïndé must have sensed it too, because a few seconds before the mighty wave crashed over me, he replaced his intelligent fingers with the thick head of his cock, lubed it between my folds and started pushing in. Inch after torturously slow inch. Driving me mad with ecstasy and yearning for his big cock to enter me completely. When he finally, finally, finally bent down to take my mouth in a fierce, searing kiss, I latched on with everything I had, pushing myself up to try and take more of him, wrapping my legs around his waist. He kept his rhythm, invading me at a pace that let my body acclimate to his, open for him, take him in, weep my juices all over his thick cock, suck him in. My pussy contracting uncontrollably. Once he rooted himself to the hilt, his heavy balls pressed against my ass, I felt the same electrifying current pass through our joined forms. Our eyes flying wide open at the same time, acknowledging the uniqueness of our connection, of this magical moment. Then he started thrusting into me, his movements powerful. His massive body pressing into my full figure. A lesser woman might have been crushed under his assault. I welcomed it with delight. Sucking and grazing at every inch of his skin I could get my mouth on, moaning his name, scratching and holding him tight. Responding to his drilling with the roll of my hips. My body coursed with wave after wave of the most intense pleasure I’d ever known in my entire life.
Gaïndé detached his mouth from the nipple he’d latched onto and ordered me in a somber voice, “Give it to me, little one. Come for your king, now.”
And I came undone. Shaking, writhing, clawing at his taut muscles, biting his burning skin, whimpering noisily. His gaze grew more vicious as the movement of his hips became less coordinated and even more forceful. He crashed into me at each thrust and I loved it. My orgasm stretching to a length I’d never experienced. Holding my face between his huge hands, Gaïndé kissed me fiercely, his cock drilling into my wet pussy, the long spurts of his cum hitting my womb and mixing with my juices in loud, wet, dirty sounds. Our bodies slapping till the very last tremor.
It was perfect. We lay in each other’s arms. Gaïndé kissing my forehead, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, running his huge hands over my curves. And I explored his wide, muscled chest, big, square shoulders, the soft skin of his back and neck. Gently bit the lobe of his ears. Ran my fingers over his extraordinarily handsome features. Buried my nose in the crook of his neck and inhaled his scent. Snuggled into his heat… and fell asleep in absolute bliss.
That was till I felt it. The call. Lallah’s call. Her powerful witchcraft pulled me out of my state of contentment and I gave my full attention to her voice.
“Linguére, honey. I’m sorry, but we have to go,” she conjured me through a connection spell.
I tried responding, explaining, but my skills were not sharp enough, and my mind was too muddled by everything that had happened to me that night. So, I resolved to discreetly go meet with Lallah, without waking my king, then come back to him once all was clarified. I should never have left his side.
***
I found Lallah at the entrance to the palace, pacing and wringing her hands. The worried look on her face dissipated as I approached with a wide smile. I hugged her tight and hurried to talk before she could pull me into our car, as she was trying to do.
“Thank you so much for bringing me with you tonight! It was wonderful!”
“You’re so very welcome, my sweet girl. Now, let’s go before your absence becomes noticed at home.” Hand gently but firmly wrapped around mine, she again attempted to get me to follow her.
I shook my head. “No, you don’t understand. I’m not going back, Lallah. the King and I…” I trailed off, a smile that was a mix of tenderness and sensuality taking over my face.
“Oh, my poor, poor girl,” Lallah answered, startling me. Her soft hand came up to caress the side of my face. “He’s… he doesn’t. I’ve known of King Gaïndé my entire life, Linguére. He loves feminine company. Of all species. He doesn’t settle, my sweet girl. He’s been on this earth for centuries, and not once has he taken a mate.” Her gaze was soft, concerned.
“No,” I shook my head. “You don’t understand. He called me his queen,” I attempted to explain, but my voice lost some of its resolve. What if she was right?
“I’m sorry, honey.” Both her voice and eyes filled with a compassionate note.
I kept shaking my head. “That’s not… what we shared… Just let me go back and talk to him,” I pleaded.
“I’m sorry, honey. But we really need to go. Soon, it will be sunrise and if your maid notices your absence, your father will send a search party. I can’t risk it, Princess.” She used my title, reminding me of both of our positions. Saying without spelling it out that I would be mildly inconvenienced, while she might end up in deep trouble with her sovereign.
I nodded and followed, promising myself I’d find a way to get in touch with My Lion King. That was six months ago…
***
For days, weeks, months I begged Lallah to take me back to Ndoumbélane. I tried learning a spell that would allow me access into the kingdom heavily guarded by intricate spells. But my unsophisticated magic wasn’t enough, and Lallah wouldn’t budge. She kept reminding me that our countries had been at peace for decades, that my father worried about the menace from Banjul, and didn’t need trouble with our neighbors from our other border. I never lost hope, though. I had no idea how I’d get back to my handsome were-lion, but I knew one day we’d be reunited.
On the day our father announced his intention to give Signare away to the fearsome king, I confessed everything to my sister. Heartbroken, crying, unable to believe how cruel the fates were being. My beautiful, kind Signare pulled my chin up, wiped away my tears and ordered me in her regal tone to get myself together and hurry to learn the transformation spell that would allow us to switch our appearances. It was a brilliant plan! She wouldn’t need to marry a king she didn’t love and was terrified of. And I would be reunited with my Gaïndé.
Well, the plan was brilliant till Signare started chickening out.
“I’m going, honey. He’s the one for me. I know it in my soul.”
She sighed deeply, the worried look in her eyes giving room to an affectionate one. “If you’re sure…” Then, she grabbed the concoction I had prepared and threw back the content of the small vial. Only wincing a little at the
bitter aftertaste. And I watched fascinated as her face and body morphed into mine.
“Thank you, honey,” I expressed my gratitude with fervor, and we hugged tightly. Unsure of what our tomorrows would be. Not knowing if this insane plan of ours would work. And praying all would be well for the both of us…
Chapter Three
GAÏNDÉ
I sit on my throne, as emotionless and detached as I’ve been for the past six months, utterly indifferent to the events about to take place. I have no interest in the imminent introduction of my betrothed or our impending nuptials.
My chamberlain announces the arrival of the royal family of Cayor. King Damél is first to enter my throne room. As fidgety and despicable as ever. He’s followed by his queen, a beautiful, elegant mature woman. And the princess…
As soon as she enters the room, the hair at the back of my neck stands up and I straighten from my slouched posture. All my senses coming to attention. Gaïndé roars in my head, ready to leap out of my skin. What is happening? Who’s this woman? I’ve never seen her in my life. She’s petite, slender. With gorgeous features, very similar to those of her mother, but she’s just your everyday princess. Why is my body awakening, all my instincts coming to alert, and My Lion stirring madly at her appearance?
I forego all protocol and rise to my feet, coming to stand in front of the small princess. When her gaze lifts to meet mine, I feel a punch to my gut. It’s her! Under some disguise spell, but her all the same. My mate!
In the same instant, I feel a broad smile take over my features and Gaïndé my body. I relinquish my hold on him. Letting our wild nature take over in this crucial moment. She came back. I don’t know how. And I don’t even really care. All that matters is she’s never leaving.
My body grows heavier, bulkier. My bare human skin is replaced by my sable hide. I grin like a maniac, exposing my large fangs, making most people in the room gasp in horror and terror. But not her, not my queen. Her sharp intake of air is more delight than fear, and I can smell her arousal from where I’m standing. My clothes cracked at the seams, I pounce on my mate, bend at the waist, and throw her over my shoulder, stomping out of the room in a brouhaha of shocked whispers.
“Where. Were. You?” I growl in her face, having dragged my woman into my private chambers, and the very room where I woke up without her warm body at my side all those months ago.
I have her trapped , her back to the door, my arms encasing her. My strong feline body dwarfing her small form. And there’s not one ounce of fear emanating from my queen. Her eyes are softly roaming over my large lion face. A small smile stretching her lips. The enchantment is well done, but her poor human tricks can’t fool my inner eye.
She raises her small hand to the side of my face and gently caresses the short fur. I purr and rub my nuzzle into her soft touch. She watches me with wonder in her big, brown eyes. “How did you know it was me?”
“Human magic is only surface deep, little mouse.”
At my words, she lets out a sigh. And I realize it’s relief I’m reading in her warm gaze. Now, my little one is convinced I’ve truly recognized her.
“My handsome king,” she breathes, making my heart swell.
I gesture to her face and body. “What is this? Spell, potion? How long is it supposed to last?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip before answering. “It’s a potion. I made it. It’s supposed to last a few days. I’m not exactly sure…”
I shake my head, chuckling. “Does Lallah know you did this?” She shakes her head, eyes growing wide. “Ah, little mouse. What am I to do with you?” Her smile grows saucy, stoking the flames of my desire. But it feels wrong lusting after her in a foreign body. I wave my hand over her face, reciting a short incantation, and the charm fades away, revealing her interesting features. The big, brown eyes that have haunted my dreams since our single night together. Her stubborn nose. The sensual lips I long to kiss and suck on. The soft curves that make my mouth water and my heart beat faster. I deeply inhale her dizzying feminine scent, feeling at peace, finally home. My Lion has seen and felt her for himself, he’s calm enough that I can resurface. “Thank the heavens, cause I’m ready to take my woman!”
A thought crosses my mind. “Is the princess alright?”
She giggles. “But Your Majesty, I am the princess.”
I love the mischievous twinkle in her eye. “You know what I mean. Did King Damél put you up to this?”
Lin’s expression sobers as she takes a step closer, bringing her body flush to mine. “Honey, I am one of the two princesses of Cayor. I’m the oldest. The least popular. I dabble in magic, I’ve had my fair share of lovers…” At these words, I emit a low, feral growl. She simply smiles, running her palm over the side of my face. “I’m… unconventional. My father doesn’t think I could make a prized possession.” I scoff, and now that My Lion has calmed down, my body relaxes back into its human form. I feel myself shrink slightly, the hair, fangs and claws recede. When I open my eyes, Lin’ is observing me with a teary gaze. She whispers, “So beautiful,” running the tips of her long, elegant fingers over my face.
I lean into her tender gesture and turn my head to kiss her soft palm.
“Is Lin’ really your name?” I inquire.
She nods. “I’m Linguére of Cayor.”
“No longer,” I contradict her. “You’re Linguére of Ndoumbélane,” I say fiercely, bringing my head down to take her mouth in a searing kiss.
The tears welling my queen’s eyes spill down her cheeks as she reverently repeats her new title: “Linguére of Ndoumbélane.”
Epilogue
LINGUERE
Dressed in a sumptuous red silk dress, my long braids piled atop my head in an intricate style adorned with gold ornaments, I sit on my throne. My posture is regal. Head held high, hands laying in my lap in a poised manner. Eyes traced with kohl. Hands and feet covered in elaborate henna designs. The very image of royalty. I sit and wait. The palace is quiet, all breaths held. We’re expectant, hopeful, but nobody knows the outcome of the battle against Banjul. My King has fought for centuries, and he’s always come back home. Victorious or not, he’s always made it back. That’s what I hold on to, what I keep repeating to myself. I’ve traced countless scars all over his body, gathered from fights in his human form and as a lion. He’s been hunted, caught, left for dead… but my warrior is invincible. Untamable. Undefeatable.
I have a mighty warrior growing inside me that needs his father. And I need my love. The campaign to assist Cayor in fighting back the invasion of its southern border has been going for weeks now. The news we get from the front is encouraging, but we know nothing about the result of the final battle. Now, we wait. We pray. We hope. And as queen, I sit strong and give my people confidence. But inside? Inside I’m an ocean under a storm, a forest burning with a wildfire, a mad beast whose ears are buzzing with terror.
So, I follow the tradition. Dress lavishly and wait in the throne room. Wait for My King to return on his feet or be carried by his brothers.
My ears perk up at the sound of a commotion coming from somewhere in the castle. My heartbeat accelerates, following the rhythm of mighty steps hitting the ground at a blazing pace. “It’s him, he’s back! No, they’re bringing him back hurt… or worse. No! He’s fine!!” My head is about to explode, when the heavy throne room door is slammed open… and My King stomps in! He’s glorious. Covered in dust and blood, long braids falling down his massive shoulders, wide chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. My famished eyes take Gaïndé in as he continues advancing toward me, like the ferocious conqueror he is. I recite a silent prayer of gratitude. My love has returned.
“Gaïndé,” I let out in a relieved exhale.
“Wife,” he growls against my mouth, having covered the few steps separating us with a blurry velocity.
“Welcome home, My King,” I whisper against his chapped lips.
And his mouth curves in a wicked smile as he throws me over his
shoulder and strides out of the throne room. Direction, our private quarters for a proper welcome home.
The End
About Imani Jay
Imani is a lover of romance novels! She's been devouring them since she was a young girl (long before she was supposed to venture into steamy stories.) Imani is all about the feels, the sexy times, and most of all the characters! She loves a broody hero, a soft dude, a sassy woman or a shy wallflower…
Her entire life, Imani would daydream of swoony encounters. One day she decided to start writing the stories she always wanted to read; stories with heroines who look more like her, and hunks from all over the world.
What to expect from Imani's stories? Steamy insta-love romances with a diverse cast of curvy girls and their hunky alphas.
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Website: https://authorimanijay.wixsite.com/steamyromance/about-the-author
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