Hers to Command

by Patricia A. Knight

  “Mmm. Naas 'leep. 'Uck me.” There was a pause and then slow words emerged well enunciated. “Not sleep. Fuck. Me.” To emphasize her request, she shimmied her buttocks into his groin. “Now.”

  “Yes, Ma'am.” He breathed his fervent gratitude to the deity that had brought him to Ari and Fleur, then did as his Prima Signora demanded.

  * * * * *

  “Your Lordship, Her Royal Highness has not returned to your chambers this evening.” Sari had found Ari in the library, going through paperwork that persisted, no matter where he was or what he did.

  Not even looking up, Ari responded,. “I know where she is, Sari. She is safe. Thank you for your concern. You and Camilla may retire for the evening. We will have a very long day tomorrow. Get some rest.” He put down what he was reading and smiled at her.

  “You won't require anything, sir?” Sari looked askance to where Ari had been “camping out” on his library sofa for the past few nights.

  “No. Tonight, I think I will sleep in my own bed for a change. But I'll be up for a few more hours so you need not wait for me.”

  “Goodnight then, sir.”

  “Goodnight, Sari. Rest well.”

  Ari returned to his papers, but his mind was preoccupied with the happenings in a bedchamber down the hall. He found he wasn’t quite as reconciled to sharing Fleur as he thought. I had best get over it. After re-reading the same paragraph for an hour, he gave it up as a lost cause. Taking his own advice, he found his own bed, for the first time in three nights.

  * * * * *

  Daylight was beginning to peek over the horizon and still Ari lay wakeful, listening for any sound out of the ordinary. His acute hearing picked up measured footsteps in the corridor outside. He slipped out of bed and hid in the shadows watching as Doral carried a thoroughly satiated and impossibly limp Fleur into the royal apartments Ari and Fleur shared. He easily held her small frame cradled with one arm as he quietly closed the heavy arched door to the suite of rooms behind him. He crossed the well-appointed antechamber to the entry of the bedroom. In the half-light filtering through the partially closed velvet drapery, Ari could make out Doral moving to their substantial, opulent bed, the serici covers disarranged. The visconte laid her down and carefully covered her. She never roused other than to roll over and snuggle into a feather pillow.

  “I know you are there, Ari.” Doral stood silently.

  Ari moved over to stand closely behind Doral and rested his hands on his waist. He could feel the solid warmth of Doral’s body. “What gave me away, spymaster?”

  Ari buried his face in Doral's lengths of blond hair and inhaled its clean scent. He felt his cock begin to fill—again. Knowing where his two lovers were and what activity they engaged in, he had been semi-hard most of the evening. He moved his lips to Doral’s neck and jaw.

  Doral shivered. “The bedding was still warm,” he replied in an undertone. Doral's voice softened as he gazed down on an angelic Fleur, lost among the covers in the huge bed. “I forgot how inexperienced she is.” He closed his eyes and grimaced. “I badly frightened her, Ari. How I wish I had that moment back.”

  “Damnation man! I trusted you,” Ari growled low in threat. His hands tightened forcefully on Doral’s waist. “Tell me you fixed that, Doral.”

  “Yes, of course. I would prefer not to die at your hands.” Doral sighed. “But I would have, regardless. I don’t purposely terrify inexperienced young women.”

  Ari’s grip dug deeper and deeper into the tender flesh at Doral’s waist. Doral never moved while he wrestled with his anger, though his grasp must have been painful. “You should have been more careful.”

  “Yes,” Doral answered simply.

  After a time, he was able to let his muscles go loose. He rested his chin on Doral's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him in closer. “I know, Doral. I couldn't endure the thought she was afraid of me, either.”

  For a moment, both men stood locked in tight embrace , looking down at the fragile woman who had become their world.

  “This cannot have been easy for you,” Doral murmured.

  Ari grunted in agreement. “I’ve done easier things.”

  He rested his forehead on Doral’s shoulder. “The thought of anyone other than you performing the Lesser Rites or being intimate with her makes me homicidal. I wanted to dismember Peregrine Fortunay.” He shrugged. “It is different with you. I can't explain it. It just is.” He sighed. “We must make this work, Doral. We need those towers active.”

  Standing there breathing his visconte’s warm scent, feeling Doral’s tight buttocks pressed against his rigid cock, he finally gave in to the temptation that had plagued him for over a year. Doral inhaled sharply as he played his tongue over his visconte’s salty skin, nipping the strong, corded muscle of his neck, then soothing it with his lips. “By the gods, Doral.”

  Ari smoothed the palms of his hands down the irresistible lure of Doral’s solid abdomen. Ropes of lean mass met his hands as he reveled in the feeling of his assassin’s hard muscles trembling slightly at his touch. Running his palms down the inside of his visconte's thighs, he gently cupped Doral’s flaccid cock and balls, weighing them in his hands, caressing them in an outward pull with firm fingers. Doral’s breathing deepened.

  “Be well warned, Segundo, I feel the identical way about you. I will not share you with anyone but Fleur.”

  “So noted,” Doral choked. “By the seventh hell, Ari, your hands could raise the dead.” As Doral’s shaft hardened under his administrations, Doral breathed out, “It would seem they are raising the dead.”

  Breathing hard, Ari stepped away from him. “We will continue this later.”

  “You’re ‘n fer a s’rprise, ‘ri.” Fleur's muffled voice escaped her pillow. “Sssspark –les.”

  “What did you say, my love?” Ari asked.

  Fleur pulled the covers over her head and snuggled further into her pillows.

  “She said, 'sparkles’,” Doral returned in answer. With a huff of amusement, the visconte patted Fleur's bottom. When he turned, his face wore an ironic smile. “We had a most unusual night.”

  Leaning in, his intent clear, Doral’s mouth met his in a searching, lingering kiss of mobile lips and soft bites. His aide’s tongue insinuated itself between his lips and stroked inside. He barely contained the groan that gathered in his chest. An erotic brush of sparkling warmth suffused him, dissipating in a flurry of sensation directly to his gut and already rigid cock. But it was the visconte's turn to pull away, panting.

  “You have no idea how hard it is to stop,” Doral whispered. “I have waited an eternity.”

  Ari adjusted himself, pulling away the cloth that bound him uncomfortably. “Kiss me like that again, and there will be no stopping.”

  Doral’s smile struck through him like a stroke up his cock, but then the visconte delved into the depths of his robe's pocket.

  “You may want to look away, Ari,” Doral warned before pulling his hand out of his pocket. Shielding his eyes, he uncurled his fingers. The bedchamber lit with brilliant white light that flared out leaving them in darkness again.

  “What was that?”

  “The tiniest sliver of Verdantian crystal from the sole of my boot reacting to us.” Answering the question in Ari’s eyes, Doral shrugged. “I don't know. Now I must get some sleep if I am to be of any use to you this evening.”

  Ari stood for several minutes after Doral left, his hand touching his lips. Speculation ran rampant through his brain.

  * * * * *

  A soft mist enveloped the morning air and blanketed the clamor of the tower bells celebrating the union of the two most powerful noble houses on Verdantia in marriage. Fleur could not help but pinch herself as she watched Ari circulate, speaking with the various dignitaries surrounding them. The reception for their guests followed the simple joining ceremony presided over by an almost giddy Elder Patricio. With her imminent coronation and wedding, the guests flooding the palace demande
d much of her time. Ari and Doral had been at her side throughout, though they had garnered strange looks. Not for much longer, though. The public announcement of the Tetriarch would be made at her coronation.

  Standing in the simply adorned great hall of the High Enclave, she had a moment of surreal elation. Ari was hers. Her days would be filled with the presence of this exceptional, charismatic man. While Ari’s deference to her rank was apparent in his public actions, she was certain her frequent reliance on his whispered suggestions and quietly given advice made it plain to all who observed the couple—this was a joining of equals.

  Standing apart in an unusual moment of solitude, lost in the enjoyment of gazing on her extraordinary husband, Fleur heard a soft voice at her elbow.

  “Your Royal Highness, you affected a miracle with our son.” With a deep curtsey, Ileana DeTano rose to stand at Fleur’s side. “I had given up hope I would ever live to see this day.”

  “Thank you, Duchessa DeTano.”

  “Please, your Royal Highness, it is just Ileana.”

  “And I am just Fleur.” She smiled tentatively at Ileana DeTano. “I don’t know how this miracle happened.”

  Her eyes returned to that extraordinarily handsome male now married to her. She and Ileana stood together quietly, watching a supremely confident and regal Ari moving among their notable guests.

  “Standing here watching him, I feel Verdantia will be crowning the wrong sex in four days. We should be anointing a king, not a queen.”

  “Oh no, my dear, Ari would never consent to that.” Ileana stood gazing at her with what Fleur could only call a look of consideration.

  “I want to share something Ari told me.” The Duchessa paused. “Your Royal Highness, you did know Elder Patricio and the L’anziano offered to nullify your marriage contract with my son?”

  Her attention captured by Ileana’s words, Fleur turned and faced Ari’s mother. “I did not know.”

  Again, Ileana studied her face thoughtfully. “He married you by choice. My dear, formally crowned or not, you are already Ari’s queen.”

  Illeana cupped Fleur’s face in a motherly caress, then dropped her hand. “Underneath that commanding alpha-male exterior, my son is a sensitive and astute man. He told me some time ago that you are Verdantia in womanly form and he would happily give his life for you. I think he married you because he loves you,” Ileana said gently.

  “Oh!” Fleur raised her hand, covering her mouth, hiding the amazing joy that filled her. Her eyes filled with unshed tears. One blink and they trickled over her cheeks. When she could master her voice without breaking down, she responded simply, “I will try to be worthy.”

  “Mother, for shame. What did you say to make my lovely bride cry?” Ari lightly teased his mother as he joined the two women and took Fleur into his arms.

  “Ari, no! She said nothing. It is that I am so very, very happy.” Fleur gazed up at him, wiping the tears off her cheeks and smiling radiantly. You love me.

  Ileana laughed lightly. “I had commended the princess on affecting a positive change in you. She seems to be laboring under the delusion you would make a better king than she would a queen. I trust you will work hard to dissuade her.”

  Fleur watched as Ileana’s eyes held her son’s a little longer than the lightness in her tone warranted. “I told her you married her by choice. It seems you neglected to tell her. It seems you neglected to tell her something else.”

  Something else? Fleur’s thoughts whirled. What else hasn’t he told me?

  Acknowledging some unspoken message, Ari nodded ever so slightly. Taking a very deep breath, Ari faced her and took both of her hands in his. “You made a powerful ally, my dear. This is not something a man would normally say in front of his mother.” He shot his mother a sharp glance. “But, I will have no peace until Mother is happy.”

  He raised both her hands and kissed them before drawing them close to his heart. “She is wrong. I had no choice but to marry you.”

  Her heart plummeted at his words.

  “Marriage was the only acceptable option. I am in love with you.”

  She stood and looked at him, eyes blinking rapidly.

  “Happy now, Mother? We have reduced our Princess to dumbstruck silence.”

  Ileana inclined her head regally and addressed Fleur. “Your Royal Highness. If you should ever need any assistance or counsel I can provide, please waste no time in asking for it. I would be greatly honored to be of use to you in whatever manner you need.” Ileana dipped into a graceful curtsey. Eyes brimming with sly humor, she added, “Even if only to commiserate about my scapegrace of a son.”

  Wiping the wet jewels rolling down Fleur’s cheeks, he asked, “More happy tears?”

  She could only nod.

  * * * * *

  Three days of intense work preceded Fleur’s coronation. The day finally arrived, dawning with an overcast, heavy atmosphere promising rain. As the brasses finished their triumphant fanfare, Ari watched his achingly beautiful young queen glide majestically down the broad isle, past the towering stone archways, toward the heavy double doors. The massive doors, clad in silver embossed with pictures from Verdantia’s history, opened onto a large, flowered courtyard crowded with Verdantian nobles and citizens.

  As Fleur passed him, her eyes caught his for a moment before casting a sultry look toward Doral. Ari smiled and mouthed, “My Queen.” The expression Doral wore promised exquisite delights of a decidedly earthy nature.

  Ari was glad to see Fleur brighten. The toll mental and physical exhaustion inflicted on his queen was visible before she cloaked her expression with her usual quiet dignity.

  He and Doral followed her, separated by the requisite three steps, onto the viewing platform outside the massive doors. Stepping forward, he stood to her right, Doral to her left. A roar of approval rose from the gathered mass. Shouts of “Long live the Queen! Long live the Primo! Long live the Segundo!” echoed off the stone walls of the buildings lining the courtyard.

  With several sidelong glances, Ari observed, bemused, as Doral alertly scanned the crowd for potential threat, then returned to dwell with hungry speculation on his new queen. The visconte met his eyes with a carnal need that flooded his lower regions in warmth.

  Fleur pretended to ignore Doral, but Ari knew she caught Doral’s keen looks as a lovely rose color flooded her cheeks while she acknowledged the assembly.

  Doral had pulled his waist-length, blond hair back into a tight, complex braid. It hung down the back of his close-fitting navy-blue coat, an inch shy of the heavy, black sword belt wrapping his trim waist. Ari could only imagine what that body looked like beneath his uniform. Doral was devastatingly attractive in the uniform of navy coat, white breeches and highly polished, black, thigh-high boots, though he would always prefer the visconte in his skin-tight, scruffy leathers.

  Tonight, following the post-coronation dinner, would be the real beginning of their Tetriarch.

  Chapter Seven

  Fleur looked around the ritual chamber with Ari at her side. Doral stood behind her, his hand resting on her shoulder. “How very different this looks to me now, Ari.” She reached up and put her hand on Doral's. “Have you ever seen the inside of this room, Visconte?”

  “No, Prima. This is where you and Ari performed the Great Rite?”

  “Yes, Segundo. I was so frightened.” She looked toward Ari, her gaze softening. “Ari was a devil, a very skilled devil.” She cast a sweet smile back at Doral. “We are in very good hands.”

  “I have every confidence in him, Prima.” Doral held his gaze soberly, steadily.

  Ari had to look away. He would move the planet itself rather than betray the trust his queen and his second placed in him. Taking a deep breath, he caught their eyes. “We will begin. This was last attempted more than 456 years ago. Documentation about what we are going to experience is sparse. I do not need to remind either of you what is at stake here—nothing less than the survival of our planet.”

&
nbsp; He began to undo the closure on his ceremonial robes. “This evening is to be a trial run. We will explore the possibilities of our Tetriarch; we must become comfortable with each other, try to estimate the volume of power we generate—if any—and so on.”

  Ari motioned to the large, dull gray, block of diaman crystal occupying a central position in the chamber. “We will attempt to empower that block. Not as large as a conventional dais, but it was the best the High Enclave could manage on short notice.”

  Fleur and Doral nodded in understanding. Doral turned Fleur to face him. “May I?” His hands slipped the fastenings to her robe.

  “You do like to take my clothes off,” she whispered, her eyes alight with humor. Doral’s lips quirked and his eyes smiled into hers. They looked up in question.

  “Please, continue,” Ari breathed. “I like watching.”

  He watched as Fleur reached for the opening to Doral’s robes. They undressed each other with lingering touches, sensual caresses, each savoring the exploration of the other’s flesh.

  As Doral slid Fleur's robe off her, he cupped her breasts, his eyes feasting on their lush fullness. Doral observed her intently while he teased her nipples into hardness with soft glides of his thumbs. Her eyelids fluttered down and her breathing deepened. Ari saw the goose bumps rise on her skin, the flush of arousal start to creep up her neck.

  Fleur crept her hand down his visconte’s abdomen to his tight balls and lightly scratched them with her nails before running a slow finger up the length of his cock, rimming the head with the slickness escaping its slit, occasionally flicking the gold ball crowning its tip.

  Doral grunted and brought both hands forward, holding Fleur’s face fixed in place. His lips and tongue teased Fleur’s mouth until they were both breathless and taut with physical need, the insides of Fleur’s thighs glistening, Doral’s engorged cock flat to his stomach, fluid pearled on its tip. Finally they turned, side by side, to stand nude before Ari.