A thump at the door jolted him in his seat, squashing her into the footwell of the desk. She froze, pinned in place by his knees, cock in hand. Footsteps thudded across the carpet towards them.
“Sire.” Barentyn’s voice made her cringe. The man had a talent for interrupting at inopportune moments.
“Can it wait, Barentyn?” Averys said, crushing her further into the footwell. Why was he hiding her? She was his wife. She had every right to be here sucking his cock if he wished.
“Fed up with the paperwork? I told you I could get Stevens to take care of some of that for you.”
“No, it’s fine. Just come back later.”
“You’re sure? I could get him to do it nude if you like. He wouldn’t mind. He’d probably be quite proud to have you fondle his—”
“Barentyn,” Averys barked. Lenora froze. His cock had sprung to life at the mention of the young man, Stevens, being nude whilst doing his paperwork. It now pulsed wildly in her grasp. He really did prefer men.
Faced with waiting for Barentyn to leave before the awkward moment in which she would have to pretend she knew nothing of her husband’s preferences—as well as trying to skirt around the fact that she’d heard anything just now—she licked her lips, looking at the pulsing flesh in her hand. She leaned forward and placed her lips on the tip.
“Come back later,” Averys said. His hand reached across and grabbed the back of her head, lightly pushing her down, and she obeyed, sucking the length of him.
“As you wish, Sire.” Footsteps fell on the carpet, fading away.
“And Barentyn?”
“Yes, Sire?”
“I will be spending the night with my wife. We will not require a guard.”
“As you wish.”
The door closed and the hand on the back of her head tightened its grip on her hair. She had gotten what she wanted for one night, at least. Now he was going to make her pay for it.
Lenora let him guide her down as far as possible, clamping her lips around his flesh and sucking hard. He grunted in reaction and yanked her head away, letting her up for air for a split second before pushing her down again. She followed his wishes, tears springing to the corners of her eyes as she struggled for breath with each long suck. When she reached up to touch, he grabbed her hands and locked her wrists together with one strong hand, pushing them above her head and against the desk edge where he pinned them in place.
So she continued sucking, biting, licking, until her face dripped with wetness, her brow sweating from the heat of him and the fire behind him, and all she could focus on was sucking him to feed his desire. Again and again she took the full length of his cock into her mouth until it hit the back of her throat, and he thrust his hips upwards, fucking her face and losing himself in the moment until he came. Hard and fast, her mouth filled with hot, salty cum as he pumped long ribbons of it into her. Finally, he pulled away, leaving her with a mouthful of hot seed dripping down her chin.
He pulled on her wrists, dragging her out from under the table to sit in his lap, then pressed his lips to hers, lustily sucking his own sperm from her mouth. When he was done, he sat back, regarding her with a frown.
In the year they had been married, he had never shown as much passion and lust as he did in that moment. They sat for a while, breathless and quiet, unsure what to say to one another. Perhaps letting her in on his secret, however unwittingly it had happened, could allow him to be more open. She dared to wonder if they might even grow closer.
“Well,” he said with far less confidence than usual. “I have work to do.”
“Of course. Thank you.”
She wasn’t sure why she was thanking him, since he clearly got the better end of the deal, but she said it regardless. She planted a light kiss on his cheek and headed out of the room, leaving him sated and a little bewildered.
When she headed down the hall, she found Barentyn standing around the corner, arms folded across his broad chest.
“Commander,” she said as she passed.
“Ma’am,” came the terse response. She felt his eyes boring into the back of her neck as she walked away.
X – An Offering
The rest of the morning proved moderately uneventful. As she sat, staring at the unappealing plate of food for lunch, she only half-listened to the gathering of Ladies who frequented the palace on occasion for idol gossip. It didn’t help that there was still a salty aftertaste in her mouth from the morning, despite having brushed her teeth. The thought of food made her want to gag. Though she had no interest in the women’s affairs, and even less interest in sharing the details of her affairs with them, their presence was enough to keep Lusk at bay for the day, at least.
While a particularly buxom woman named Freida regaled the gaggle of women with a story about her husband’s bottom-pinching habit, which the women found to be a riotous scandal and positively erotic, Lenora began to despair at her luck. She’d circumvented the night-time threat of Lusk’s affections, at least temporarily, but needed a more permanent solution to the situation. One that didn’t involve informing Averys about the man’s odd perversions and outright assault.
The women shared another round of giggling with the occasional unladylike snort thrown in for good measure.
“What do you think, Ma’am?” Freida asked.
Lenora paused; she hadn’t been paying any attention to the conversation and had no idea what dull thing they were talking about now. “Pardon me?” she said.
“It’s the pregnancy. Sends what brains we have into useless puddles. Ask her again, Freida,” one of the other women said.
“I was wondering what your thoughts were, Ma’am, as to whether I should grant my husband’s request to start wandering about the house with no knickers on?”
“Well, it is quite liberating.” She snapped her mouth shut as the other women gawped at her; one of them covered her mouth, failing to suppress a fit of hysterics.
“That’s decided, then. If it’s good enough for the Royal Consort, then it’s good enough for me!” Freida laughed. “Who would have guessed the Emperor to be so lusty in his desires? My goodness.”
The group descended into another bout of hysterics. She considered pointing out that Averys made no such request of her, that her recent knickerless escapades were purely by personal choice, but thought better of it. It was bad enough that she was likely to read some sordid story about herself swanning around the palace sans underwear in the newspaper before long, knowing these women couldn’t keep their mouths shut if their lives depended on it—no need to add further details. It was probably best they assumed he enjoyed her walking around nude below, the presses would likely explode if they learned the truth of his real desires.
She managed to last the remainder of the session without committing any further mistakes, but by the time the women waved goodbye, she felt exhausted from the mindless conversations and no closer to a solution to her real troubles.
“Dinner will be served in ten minutes, Ma’am,” one of the servants announced just as she settled into a chair for a rest.
To her surprise, Averys already sat at the dinner table. He had changed since the morning and wore his favourite soft grey shirt, neck open at the top, and no tie. It was unusual enough for him to be at the table early, and doubly unusual to appear in such a relaxed manner. She scooted into the chair at his side and cocked her head to give him a smile, one she expected to not be returned. As predicted, he did not smile, but he did place his hand over hers for a moment. Her first thought was that he was admonishing her for putting her hands on the table, but as his grip was gentle and he made no move to push her away, she finally saw the affectionate gesture for what it was.
Her mind raced to analyse the moment. Was he treating her kindly because he believed her to be pregnant, or had her cock-sucking act really been that good? If it had been Nathanial sitting at the table with her, she would have dared to ask, but with Averys she was frightened to be so straightforward. He usuall
y dismissed any questions he didn’t like with a harsh comment, or simply a harsh glare, and it was rare for her to find a question he didn’t mind answering.
A servant walked in, carrying two plates of food. Lenora watched Averys from the corner of her eye; a slight flush appeared on his olive skin and the grip on her hand tightened slightly. As the servant placed her plate down, she realised the cause. It was the young man—his apparent favourite, Stevens.
In a flash, Stevens was gone and Averys released her hand to eat.
She felt her heart tug. How odd that such a small concession and silent admission had done more for their relationship than anything else over the past year, even more than the supposed pregnancy. In that moment, she realised his change in demeanour was a result of her reaction—or lack of reaction—to the revelation of his sexual preferences. If she could accept him in spite of it, then that was enough.
And she could. Though others might frown upon it, she really didn’t mind. In fact, it was almost a relief; his lack of interest in her was no reflection on her as a woman or on her performance in the bedroom. She was simply not what he liked. She allowed her mind to replay visions of him in the dungeons, her thoughts snagging on the fact that he had been the one receiving. Did he only like it that way? Might he also enjoy giving? She found herself mulling over the idea around a mouthful of meat. How could one possibly ask such a thing?
“What?” he asked, regarding her suspiciously.
“What?” she repeated, quite sure she hadn’t spoken.
“You’re smirking. What are you smirking at?”
She forced the smile from her face and tried to think up something suitable. Should she say she was thinking of some inane comment her lady visitors had made today? That would likely put him off asking further questions. Then again, could his new change in attitude be the most opportune time to try for something more honest? She’d never admit to the Nathanial incidents unless she developed a death-wish, and certainly wouldn’t dare mention what Lusk had done, more afraid of what Lusk would do than out of fear of Averys. Perhaps this was the best and only opportunity she would get to ask the questions burning in her mind.
“Would it be…inappropriate to discuss…things?” she asked.
His face contorted, eyes narrowing at the same time as his eyebrows rose up into his thinning hairline. “It would be inappropriate for you to smirk during such a discussion.”
“Of course. I’m sorry. I was just having…thoughts.”
He gave a laboured sigh and chewed on another mouthful of his dinner for a moment before speaking again. “Not at the dinner table.”
She felt her heart thumping in her chest and tried to force her hands not to shake as she continued to eat, resolving to complete dinner in silence unless he chose to strike up a conversation.
She left half her dinner unfinished, her stomach churning with excitement and fear. They passed the guards in the hall, walking side by side for a change—something they never usually did unless there was company around to see it. He even slipped a hand around her waist as they climbed the stairs. By the time they reached their bedroom, she was giddy, though she wasn’t sure with what. Excitement? Anticipation? It reminded her of their wedding night, though even then he hadn’t shown the slightest hint of a gentle side. She was positively floating as he opened the door, holding it for her to pass through.
“Sire,” a call came from down the corridor when she stepped in, and her heart dropped into her toes.
“What is it, Lusk?” Averys barked.
“An urgent matter, Sire.” Lenora heard footsteps strolling along the hall, and her legs turned to jelly.
“Can’t it wait?”
“Not really.”
“What’s it about?”
Lusk appeared in the doorway. He gave a sideways glance at Lenora as she back-stepped into the room. “You wouldn’t wish to discuss it in private Sire?”
“Tell me now.”
“Very well. It concerns Nathanial.”
She found the bedpost with her back and gripped it for support. Was he really going to tell him, right there, right in front of her? She looked over to the window, giving serious contemplation to simply throwing herself out of it. If she could land head-first, her death would be quick, at the least. She bit her tongue to stop the tears wanting to spring from her eyes.
“What about Nathanial?”
“He has not returned from his latest assignment.”
“Oh. What do you think has happened to him?”
“He may have been captured.”
Averys stepped out into the corridor and pulled the door closed, lowering his voice to continue the conversation in private. Lenora’s head thumped against the post. At least it hadn’t been the news she feared, but now a new sensation tugged at her heart—Nathanial captured? That was unlike him, from what little she knew of his skill. She had been hoping to find him tomorrow during the day for another tryst, as their two short encounters in as many weeks weren’t enough to guarantee the pregnancy she so desperately needed. That wouldn’t happen now, if ever again; it was unlikely that whoever had captured him would treat him kindly, especially if he’d been caught in a failed assassination attempt.
The threat of tears returned. Though she wouldn’t say they were in love, there was something undeniable between them; she lusted for him in more than just a sexual sense. If he never came back, she would have no one else to turn to. Except…
“Very well, Sire.” Lusk’s voice cut through the air as the door opened again. Averys entered and closed the door with a sigh, his face pulled into a frown.
“Everything all right?” she asked, not quite hiding the tremor in her voice.
“Depends on the outcome,” he said cryptically—his usual, dismissive non-answer. He looked her up and down, gave another laboured sigh, and the walked over to sit on the bed. “You wanted to discuss…earlier?” he asked without looking her in the eye. She still stood gripping onto the bedpost at her back. It wasn’t the best position to be in for a heartfelt discussion which would possibly contain revelations of his sexual desire, but she was busy using the post to stop herself from collapsing into a heap. She’d gone lightheaded and wasn’t about to let go.
“You prefer men,” she said, opting for a simplistic approach in her dilapidated mental state.
“I prefer men.”
“You never hated me?”
“You’re a perfectly adequate wife.”
Lenora snorted the most unladylike laugh. Her shoulders began to shake with laughter and tears fell down her cheeks, a mixture of all the emotions rushing through her body over the last day, or days, or even weeks. She slumped down, crashing her backside onto the floor and sinking her head into her hands as she wept and laughed to herself.
“Women,” he grunted, casting her a quizzical look. “Did you want to discuss this, or are you going to sit there crying all night?”
“I’m sorry,” she said through gulps of air. “Things have been a little…strained of late.” She scooted her backside along the floor and came to sit at his feet, resting her head on his legs. “I don’t mind, you know.”
“Don’t mind what?”
“That you prefer men. I don’t mind if you…you know, do things with them.”
“You don’t mind.”
He said it as a statement, a reiteration, though from the sound of his voice it was almost a question. She felt a hand touch the top of her head, gentle and calm.
“You could even bring one in here. I’d like to watch,” she continued.
“You’d like to watch me with another man?”
“Yes, I think I’d enjoy it. If you’d let me, of course. Do you prefer it…uh…”
She looked up at him, extracting her head from his lap. He wasn’t giving anything away in his expression and made no effort to finish the sentence for her. She chewed on her lip and then forced herself to push past the embarrassment.
“Do you prefer giving or receiving?”
“You’re assuming I act upon my impulsions.”
She snagged on that point. She already knew he had been unfaithful at least once but probably had been doing so throughout their marriage and for a long time beforehand. She couldn’t let on knowing that without raising more questions—ones she couldn’t answer.
“Yes. It was no secret that your father and the men of the royal line before him were rather…libidinous. I’d always assumed you would have mistresses, especially when it became apparent I wasn’t giving you the greatest pleasure in our bed. It’s only right for the Emperor to do what he pleases, is it not?”
“Hmm.” He puffed a laugh through his nose. “If only.”
“And I do want you to be happy. Though, I’ll admit, I’m intrigued at the thought of it.”
“You are?”
“Is that dirty? Should a wife be chaste of mind?”
“I don’t know what you should be, but I’m interested to learn of this new side of you,” he said.
“You are?”
“I know I haven’t been the most…caring…husband, but I do care about you.”
She welled up with tears again at the open and heartfelt admission. Still, she had to remind herself of the man who’d so carefully delivered a veiled threat to her two weeks ago, and she had no reason to mistrust Lusk’s comment that he’d been contemplating killing her off for her apparent failures. As far as his affections went, she supposed it was limited to being given only when she was fulfilling her duty. Outside of that, she was nothing more than a problem to be eliminated by any means necessary.
“I must say, the thought of you…watching…is an interesting one.”
“It is?”
His gaze softened, eyes twinkling mischievously. He almost looked twenty years younger, and he parted his legs to look at his own crotch. She followed that look and saw just how interested he was by the large bulge in his trousers.
“That is interesting.”
“It’s the first time that has happened without the need for me to…help it along.”
“Perhaps we should do something about it, my love?”
Desire and Duty (The Consort's Chronicles Book 1) Page 8