Desire and Duty (The Consort's Chronicles Book 1)

by Jarvis, E. C.

  “You don’t love me any more than I love you, Lenora.”

  “No, but you are the Emperor and my husband. It is my duty to please you, and if I am incapable of doing so, then it is my duty to ensure you are pleased in whatever fashion works. I do want you to be happy.” She settled herself in between his legs. “We could start by repeating what we did earlier?”

  A slight sparkle ghosted across his eyes. “That was pleasurable.”

  “Or you could make love to me…as you would a man?”

  “You mean…”

  “It would be safe. No risk to the baby.”

  “Perhaps we’ll stay with a repeat of earlier for tonight. The other will take practise and preparation.”

  As he hoisted his throbbing cock out of his trousers, she did as requested, attending to him with enthusiasm, though she would have much preferred to perform the act with Nathanial. Her mind raced with thoughts, his promise of practise and preparation teasing her enough to set her juices running. The thought of his rough, calloused fingers playing and poking around her backside made her internal muscles pulse with need.

  That thought held another unspoken promise—that he would return to her bed in the evenings for the foreseeable future. If she could ensure he went to sleep every night thoroughly sated from their exploits, he wouldn’t feel the need to go down to the dungeons, and she would be safe from Lusk. She smiled around his cock, satisfied at having achieved one victory, at least.

  XI – The Shock

  Two more days passed slowly and uneventfully. As hoped, Averys had shared her bed at night, wanting nothing more than her newfound cock-sucking skill in return. She was both delighted by his presence, disappointed by not receiving any practise sessions, and worried by Nathanial’s disappearance.

  Her stomach danced around in knots, leaving her restless and unable to complete a full meal without wanting to throw up. So it was no surprise that when, during lunch, Barentyn startled her with the news that the doctor was to perform another examination, she did in fact deposit the undigested contents of her stomach straight back onto the plate.

  After a hasty retreat from the dining hall, where she had to stop herself from apologising to the servants as it was considered unseemly of a Consort to do so, Barentyn led her through the palace to her bedroom.

  “Am I to have an audience today as well?” she asked, hoping he had had his fill of gawping at her lady parts after the last time. Instead of a response, he gripped her upper arm, thick fingers locking around it like a vice as they walked the corridors. She faltered under his grasp; even the guards they passed eyed him suspiciously. She was sure enough that men who weren’t the Emperor shouldn’t publically manhandle her without a very good reason. At least Lusk had the decency to be discrete when he touched, though the thought of appreciating Lusk’s subtlety over Barentyn’s brazenness threatened to bring up more of her lunch.

  They reached her room and he shoved her inside. There was a new doctor waiting, one she hadn’t met before, one wearing the dark green military uniform with an insignia on his breast denoting him a Colonel.

  “What is this?” she snapped indignantly.

  “This is an army doctor, Colonel Morsh,” Barentyn said as he shut the door and took up the spot where he’d stood before.

  “What happened to Doctor Roath?”

  “He is unavailable. The Colonel is quite capable. Colonel.” Barentyn nodded to the Colonel, who gave her a bright smile, his face lighting up with a boyish charm she wouldn’t have expected from a man his age. She would no doubt have saved the memory of that smile for a self-pleasuring session later if she weren’t on the verge of a complete breakdown. One kindly doctor was miracle enough; she wouldn’t like to bet on a military man being so sympathetic to her plight.

  “You look pale, Ma’am. Would you like to sit down?” the Colonel asked.

  “Of course I look pale. I just lost the contents of my stomach,” she said, flailing her arms, not bothering to hide her anger. “I was not informed of this. Is the Emperor aware that this man was going to do this?”

  “The Emperor is busy. He has assigned the handling of your condition to me,” Barentyn said, a sneer in his tone.

  “It’s quite all right, Ma’am. It won’t hurt a bit.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one getting poked and prodded in the privates.”

  “No poking or prodding required,” he said with that smile streaking across his lips again. He pulled a small tube from his pocket. “All you need to do is place a deposit in here and bring it back to me.”

  She blinked at him a few times, switching between staring at the tube and staring at his smile. “A deposit?”

  “Just go piss in the damn tube,” Barentyn almost shouted at her from his position. That shout, a barked order, highly insolent and most definitely against protocol, wiped the smile straight from the doctor’s face. The nagging feeling at the back of her neck warned against arguing, even though she had every right to do so. She took the tube and headed to the washroom. Just as she moved to shut the door, Barentyn appeared and placed his hand against the door.

  “You want to watch me relieve myself, Commander?”

  “I don’t want to, but I will.”

  “I will be informing Averys of this,” she said, hoping that small threat would persuade him to leave. Instead, he simply raised an eyebrow. Whatever in the world a man such as him might dread, the Emperor’s ire was clearly not one of those things.

  She balanced the tube on the sink, failing to hide the tremor in her hand. With a defiant look, she raised her skirt, showing him everything he’d already seen as well as the fact that she wasn’t wearing any underwear yet again. His steely gaze never faltered from her eyes.

  She positioned herself over the toilet, fumbled with the tube, peeing just as much over her hand as she managed to get into the small piece of glass. Her heart thumped so hard she wondered if Barentyn could hear it. Her only plan was to trip and stumble, spilling the contents into the sink, but before she could even do that he charged forward and snatched the tube out of her hand, leaving her to clean up as he returned to the bedroom.

  She reappeared in the room, leaning against the doorjamb. The doctor was holding the tube, a small piece of paper dangling in the liquid. Her head started to float. What was she going to do when he announced the lack of pregnancy? Perhaps she could say she’d had some stomach pain and bleeding the day before; a lost baby might be enough to keep her on a little longer than an entirely faked pregnancy.

  “There you are, sir,” the Colonel said, holding up the piece of paper. “No doubt at all.”

  “I did have some stomach pain yesterday, and bleeding,” she blurted at them.

  “Of course, Ma’am. It’s quite normal in your condition, along with the sickness, but you must continue to eat to keep healthy and strong. It’s best for the child, too.”

  “How long?” Barentyn asked.

  “Still very early to tell yet. She has no belly, but it won’t be long.”

  Their conversation faded into static. The floating headiness returned, and she felt her shoulder sliding down the doorjamb. She was pregnant after all.

  She had no idea which of her two sessions with Nathanial was responsible, or even if Averys himself had finally achieved the task, but it didn’t matter. She no longer had to worry about being murdered or if Nathanial never came back. As soon as she thought of Nathanial, her heart sank. If he was truly lost and possibly dead, he’d never know the truth of their success, and she would miss him terribly. Her lower lip wobbled and she quickly gave up trying to stop it as hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “You should rest, Ma’am,” the doctor said as he helped her up from where she’d collapsed on the floor, guiding her gently to the bed. “Eat when you can and try ginger tea for the sickness. I will check on you in a week or whenever you or Commander Barentyn requests me.”

  She nodded weakly, unable to speak despite wanting to thank him
. As he left, Barentyn remained. He stood for a long time, staring down at her. He looked as though he wanted to snap her neck and was mustering all his strength to stop himself from doing just that. She wondered about asking him what he wanted, then thought better of it, resolving to lie down on the bed in the hopes that he would go away. Eventually, he did, slamming the door shut behind him.

  Lenora lay there, staring at the mural of the nude woman on the wall, wondering if Averys would let her paint over it. As she wondered, her hand mindlessly rubbed across her tummy, and a smile spread across her face.

  She spent the remainder of the day in and out of dreamy naps. The new Doctor Morsh danced around her dreams, frequently returning to give a more thorough examination—one that required her to orgasm for him over and over as he beamed a grin of delight at the skill of his fingers. When her eyes opened to see Averys perched on the end of the bed, giving her an odd half-smile, she felt terribly guilty despite having nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing save for erotic dreams.

  “What were you dreaming about?” he asked.

  “I’d rather not say,” she replied, sitting up and feeling her face flush as she imagined the good doctor lashing his tongue across her clitoris yet again.

  “Something mischievous, by that look.”

  “Did Barentyn tell you what happened today?”

  “He said he wanted a second opinion, so I agreed to let Morsh run some tests. I was assured there would be no risks involved. The military medicines are far more advanced than civilian methods. Roath is positively outdated as a doctor. Mind you, with the amount of money I’m forced to pump into the military, they had better have the best equipment in the world.”

  “I…” Her mind snagged. Not only had he just discussed a matter of state with her…had he really just said he was being forced to do something? She had intended to berate him about Barentyn’s unusual manhandling and the man’s general attitude, but this new information was troubling. If Averys was not the powerful figure in control, as everyone assumed, then the only person she could think of who might hold that level of sway was Barentyn, and that made for a terrifying thought.

  “What?” Averys interrupted her thoughts. “You were going to say something?”

  “I was wondering if you wanted to try something else tonight?” she said, hoping that a change of subject might help to settle the butterflies springing up in her stomach at this new information.

  “I had been thinking about that, also.”

  “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

  A knock at the door interrupted his answer. Averys turned a rare and quirky smile, then headed to the door.

  Stevens appeared in the hallway. Averys held the door open and stood to one side, spreading his arm out as an invitation to enter the room. The younger man bowed his head and walked inside, giving Lenora a look she couldn’t quite place. Terror? Shock? She didn’t know which but was in no doubt that all three of them were probably experiencing the same range of emotions to varying degrees.

  “If this is not what you want, then say now and we shall continue elsewhere in the palace,” Averys said to her.

  “Sire? Am I to…with the Consort? I thought it was with you?”

  “It is with me. My wife wishes to watch. Do you still?” he asked her.

  Lenora bit her lip as she looked Stevens up and down. He was tall and thin, probably not more than a few years older than her with wiry brown hair scraped back and slicked down with some form of gel. He had round eyes and a pointy nose. There was nothing about him that attracted her, but this wasn’t about her tastes, as there was clearly something about the guy Averys liked himself. Though the thought of watching had turned her on before, it seemed a little odd now that the opportunity stared her in the face. Watching Averys with Barentyn had been shocking and erotic; she wasn’t sure she would feel the same way watching her husband with Stevens—in their bed, no less. Though, if she wanted Averys to remain in her room, she would have to grit her teeth and bare it.

  She swung her legs from the bed and went to stand beside the dresser, offering an accepting smile to the two men. In a heartbeat, Averys gripped Stevens at the back of his neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Lenora drew a breath and squeezed her thighs together. He’d never shown her an ounce of that passion in all their pillow-hammering sessions. Stevens seemed to immediately forget she was in the room, melting into Averys’ arms. She doubted this was the first time the two had been entwined together.

  Clothes were ripped from their bodies in a matter of seconds, the shredded material of Stevens’ shirt thrown to the floor with reckless abandon. Beneath his shirt lay a surprise; he was incredibly toned despite being thin, his back sculpted by a line of muscles and his stomach pulled into a taut shape, showing the outline of the physique beneath.

  As Stevens sunk to his knees, kissing and scraping at Averys’ hairy chest, pulling at a nipple with his teeth in what looked to be a painful manner, Lenora found herself breathless. Yes, she could watch this—watch it and enjoy it—and maybe even learn from it. She paid careful attention to every move, every reaction, and every subtle act which elicited a strong reaction from Averys. He seemed to enjoy the occasional painful pinch or bite, something she would have never dared think to do. Who in their right mind would think of biting the Emperor?

  As Stevens reached Averys’ cock, he sucked it in, taking the entire length into his mouth in one go. Averys grabbed the back of his head and guided his effort, as he liked to do with Lenora, his own head thrown back as he squeezed his eyes shut. She watched, wide-eyed, heart racing as the two men enjoyed each other’s bodies until the steamy encounter moved to the bed and more daring territory.

  The heady show of mutual kissing, touching, and licking came to a pinnacle as Averys pushed Stevens onto his hands and knees and took the lead in the act, answering Lenora’s earlier pondering about whether he liked it both ways. She noticed the two men were turned to face the end of the bed, to face her, though Stevens’ head was bowed down as he gripped at the bedsheets and moaned into the mattress. Averys’ eyes remained open; he watched her as she watched him, her hand unwittingly snaking between her legs, tending to herself through the material of her dress. The room was pierced by the sudden and intense barking noises Averys usually made, and she knew that meant he was close, her own arousal reaching the bridge of climax as they came together, eyes locked, from opposite sides of the room.

  As their slowing breaths subsided, the odd threesome fell silent. Stevens redressed himself, giving both Emperor and Consort a sheepish bow before scurrying off into the night. Averys disappeared into the washroom.

  Lenora flopped onto the bed, exhausted despite having done nothing at all. Her eyes felt heavy and her body felt satisfied. Though she would have preferred another one-on-one session with Nathanial, this, as an alternative, was better than she could have hoped. If it kept her in Averys’ good graces, it was certainly worth it. She would watch him fuck the entire staff if he so desired, so long as she was involved.

  Averys returned and lay down beside her. He pushed a lock of hair from her face and kissed her forehead softly. “You have proven to be a good wife. Continue, and I shall care for you greatly. But don’t ever forget your duty to me. If you ever give me reason to do so, I will cut off your head in a heartbeat.” He planted another soft kiss on her head, then rolled over to cut out the lantern.

  Within minutes, soft snores filled the room. Her exhaustion abated, mind racing. She’d been foolish enough to think his change of heart reflected some actual development of affection. As she stared up at the blank, dark ceiling, she promised herself silently to never make that mistake again. If she was going to survive longer than two minutes after providing him with an heir, it would take effort and determination to keep him pleased. The very thought of it seemed daunting. If Nathanial ever returned, she would have to be even more discrete with him if they were to enjoy each other’s company again. She wasn’t even sure it was worth the risk. />
  The next morning, Averys was gone from the room without her noticing. She washed and dressed in peace and headed down for breakfast. Her head was so filled with the events of the night before that she barely registered the footsteps following her down the hall until it was too late and her pursuer was at her shoulder. Lusk.

  “You brought Averys back into your bedroom. That wasn’t part of our deal, Lenora,” he crooned into her ear as they turned to descend the staircase.

  “He is my husband,” she said, keeping her voice low as they passed a line of servants heading to clean the bedroom.

  “He doesn’t want you. Whatever it is that you’ve done to convince him into your bed, it won’t last. Now you have Barentyn’s attention, too. If you think I’m bad, you should know that you don’t want that man as an enemy.”

  “Why would he be my enemy? I have no power here. I’m not a threat to him.”

  “Not a threat, no, but you are presenting yourself as a problem. He’s had Averys under his thumb for years, and since you’ve started doing…whatever it is you are doing, the Emperor has been fighting back and telling him no. Barentyn doesn’t like to be told no.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” she asked as they turned into the dining hall, the guards at the doors passing them no more than a cursory glance.

  “So you understand what it means when I tell you that, if you don’t give me what I want, I will tell Barentyn all about your dalliances with Nathanial.”

  “I’m pregnant, Lusk. I don’t need you.”

  “I don’t care. You will pleasure me in whatever way I see fit, or I will see to it that you are replaced. Baby or not, the Emperor will cut off the head of an adulteress in a flash. You have three days to remove Averys from your bedroom. Enjoy your breakfast.” He poked at the silver spoon beside the bowl laid out on the table and gave a sinister sneer as he disappeared from the room.

  She sunk into the chair and fiddled with the lace tablecloth, staring through the tall arch windows to a world that seemed far simpler and easier than her own hideous mess of a life.