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It’s the dawn of a new day when you wake up to a hand caressing the barest part of your thigh. Subtle and reverent, the sunlight just barely peeking in from the perfectly pressed silk curtains, showering both you and the man beside you in a soft blanket of warmth, it’s the perfect start to your morning.
“Good morning, my love.” The deep voice rumbles into your neck, his body curling around you to keep you from getting up. “How did you sleep?”
The way he’s speaking so casually, as if he weren’t completely wrapped around you, has you chuckling. “I slept perfectly.” You whisper, the tip of your nose brushing along his silver locks. They’re mused and unruly, a mess of waves and straight strands that lie across your chest and contrast with the dark bedding. “But I think it is appropriate that we get up and attend breakfast. The advisors will be waiting for us.”
Xavier’s lips straighten into a line when he lifts his head to meet your gaze. “Let them wait.” A kiss to your jawline. The atmosphere is too perfect to shatter with the promise of appeasing the others in the palace with an appearance. “I am having quality time with my wife.”
“We are together for most of the day.” You joke, your following sentence being cut off when he slots his lips against yours. “Mmph!”
A chuckle breaks the kiss, your fingers threading through Xavier’s hair as he leans into your touch. “That is true, but a day is not enough quality time. I need eternity.” His eyes close, and if he were a cat, he would be purring at the way your fingers expertly massage his scalp, running through his hair to untangle the messy strands.
For a moment, he forgets about his responsibilities, and he’s just Xavier. Just the boy who caught your eye in the palace. The boy who courted you with silent glances and meetings in the observatory across the hill. The boy who fought battles but always came back to you. The boy who became a king, but will still be Xavier.
Your Xavier.
His eyes search yours, admiring every feature as if he hadn’t seen you in every single facet from the past until now. “I can do eternity.” You tease, your voice but a whisper against his lips as you pull him in for another kiss. It’s still gentle, the promise of forever lingering there.
But forever isn’t enough for Xavier. The finality of the word doesn’t hold a candle to the never-ending future that he wishes to share with you. It’s seven letters that make up its meaning, but language is meaningless. When it’s all dead and gone, the stars will light a path for Xavier to hold you close and cherish you into the ether. No time. No forever. Just his soul cradling yours close until you merge into one.
“How about we become stars?” He whispers, kissing your lips once more before trailing down along the side of your neck. It’s intimate, with no promise of anything physical. “That way, we can remain in space together.”
His proposition is serious, but you lighten the atmosphere with a chuckle. “Will you not get sick of me?”
Almost instantly, the word slips from his lips and into the crevice of your collarbone. “Never.”
It takes another few hours for breakfast to be finished, since the arrival of the Queen and King was delayed by half an hour. Even though you emerge from your chambers looking perfectly put together and ready to face the day, of course, people like to whisper.
The way Xavier looks at you is admirable, and many nobles tease him about his evident reverence and affection for his wife. Their jokes are met with a stoic grimace and a raised eyebrow; the subtle threat of retaliation is always there in matters of his relationship. There are a few things that Xavier holds close to him. But you are the center of his universe. Should anyone speak ill of you, they will swiftly enjoy their last breath.
A meeting is called with the head of the knights, the sworn protector of the kingdom. Although there hasn't been an immediate threat for who knows how long, it's important to discuss matters such as this when the threat lingers in every corner. And especially important when Xavier is determined to keep you and the people safe at all costs.
"We have knights stationed at the borders in towns built specifically for protection," Jeremiah, Xavier's right-hand man and closest advisor—besides you, of course—speaks loud and clear. His voice echoes through the banquet hall, standing tall in front of you and Xavier's thrones.
The thrones aren't too high. Just enough to look across the room, seeing everyone's heads where they sit in the long tables, but not too much that you seem too high and mighty. In fact, Xavier would probably have your throne feet above his, to show your importance compared to him. He was a lowly worm, and you were a goddess.
"Very well." Xavier nods, his hands clasped in his lap. "Have we had any incidents in the last few months?"
Jeremiah shakes his head, his hair moving slightly. He's not on the front lines, but his communication with the rest of the personnel gives you and Xavier the best information on what's happening. "No. There have been zero incidents since the new town was set up three months ago. It seems that things have calmed down since the last infiltration of traitors."
Even the mention of traitors has Xavier's face contorting into a snarl. It's a stark contrast to your Xavier, and to watch him switch into someone so regal and stone cold sends a crackle of electricity across your arms.
"Good." One simple word, his eyes breaking Jeremiah's to look at you. When he speaks, it's with a less intense tone. "Do you have anything to add, My Queen?"
You think for a moment, debating on the exploration of the woods outside the kingdom and the outposts set up so another incident doesn't happen. Xavier is skilled at never forgetting an important part, but he always asks you if you have something to add. Partly because he likes to hear your voice, but also to see you in action.
As Queen, you do many of the things Xavier does. There is no hard line where your duties end and Xavier's start. It's a joint effort, working together both as rulers and as husband and wife.
"No, I do not believe so. As long as our outpost towns are reinforced and adequately staffed, I trust that you will keep everything in check, Jeremiah." Your voice is melodic as you speak, the few knights in the room putting their attention on you as Jeremiah smiles and nods.
Xavier, on the other hand, skims his eyes across your features. The crown on your head glimmers in the natural light of the sun, highlighting your beauty like a God shining down. It's hard, at times, to stop staring at you, his thoughts running wild as you smile down at Jeremiah and his advisors. Xavier's heart skips a beat, just as it always does when he looks at you, and he imagines ruining you on the very throne you sit on.
The comfortable cushions cradling you as he ravishes your body. The sounds of your moans bouncing off the walls as he sends you over the edge, over and over. Xavier is never satisfied with just one. He has to hear you, to feel you, as many times as you can handle. Only then will he cuddle you in his arms and soothe his fingers along your tense muscles while he showers you in compliments until you drift to sleep.
Unaware of Xavier's eyes boring into your soul, you keep going. "You should come back to the palace in two weeks. We can plan the recruitment of our new legion and shift staff around to give people some time to rest with their families."
Back when Xavier was just a prince, Jeremiah was one of the few who trained with him, and by default, was the one who heard all about his recent courting with a beautiful woman. You. The three of you have grown quite close, and during the wedding, Jeremiah stood by Xavier's side as his trusted friend.
Jeremiah bows, his face parallel to the floor, before standing straight. "Understood, Your Majesty." The title feels weird on Jeremiah's lips, since he's used to calling you by your name, but in the presence of the other knights, it's beneficial to show respect for you. "We shall update you if there are any more threats of danger impending."
"Thank you." Xavier's voice is clipped, his throat hoarse, and his fists clenching in his lap as he tears his eyes away from you. There's already a very noticeable bump in his pants that he covers with his hands, his eyebrow raising. "You all may vacate the hall. I must speak with my wife."
My wife.
The thought still gets Xavier going, being able to call you his, just like he can call himself yours. The simple word of possession and promise lingers on his tongue while the men filter out of the banquet hall. Your eyes meet Xavier's, a question dancing in your irises as you start to say something.
"They were finished with their briefing." He simply shrugs, standing up and taking the few steps until he's right in front of your throne. When you start to stand, he places a hand on your shoulder. "Sit, love."
"Okay… Wha-"
His hands cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing along your cheekbones as if he were admiring a statue. "Apologies, my love." Xavier's voice is a gentle whisper, taking your crown off and setting it on the floor. Is it proper protocol for the storage of a royal item? No. But does Xavier care right now when you're staring up at him with wide eyes and parted lips? Of course not.
When you finally manage to find your voice, it's a whisper. "What are you apologizing for?"
Xavier chuckles breathlessly, and in an instant, he kneels in front of your throne. A man on his knees for you. It's not uncommon. Many people of the kingdom bow and praise your rule with words and actions such as this. But this is Xavier. Your husband. Your King.
"For the thoughts that plagued my head while you spoke with Jeremiah and those knights." He mumbles, his hands leaving your cheeks to toy with the bottom of your dress. Heat erupts at his ears, turning them a soft crimson. "For the things I wish to do to you right here, with the knights only a few steps away."
His voice turns breathless, thumbs massaging soft circles into the skin of your ankles. He's shameless. Always has been and always will be. But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel bad at times for thinking such lewd things of you when you are simply existing.
"What things?" Always one to provoke and question Xavier, you invite him with the slight spread of your legs. The slim sides of the throne stop it, but he picks up on it nonetheless. "Tell me."
Xavier swallows, his eyes blinking slowly as he watches the fabric of your dress shift and move in front of him. Like a man begging for even an ounce of attention from a goddess, he plants his knees on the harsh floor, looking up at you with hazy eyes and a bobbing Adam's apple.
"I have thought about enjoying your delicious cunt on this very seat, my head under your dress while everyone sees how good I make you feel." His words shoot right through you, but it's the combination of his hands running up your calves, the touch promising and light, that tenses your muscles. "Or bending you over the arm of the throne, filling you up, worshiping you like the goddess you are."
"Why do you not indulge in those thoughts?" Slipping your heels off, your foot brushes along the inside of his thigh. You can barely feel the hardness of his bulge with your toe, and the man below you gasps. "We are alone…"
A low hum, and Xavier's hands move higher, across the plains of your thighs and up to the dips of your hips. "Are you suggesting we defile this sacred seat?" He teases, meeting your eyes through the veil of his eyelashes.
You shrug. "You are the King." As his fingers dip under the waistband of your panties, you hum in satisfaction. "You may do whatever you wish."
This lights a spark in Xavier, his chest clenching as he slowly drags the piece of fabric down your legs and sets it beside him. Yes, he is the King. However, there's something extra enticing about you calling him the King that has his cock twitching in his pants.
Still covered by the long skirt of your dress, he uses his hands to tug your hips closer, pushing your thighs up until the backs of your knees hook in the armrests of the throne. You're exposed when he flips your skirt up, your cunt already glistening and ready for him.
"What I wish…" He trails off, drinking in the sight of you spread out for him. Even if you're the one exposed, you have all the power over him. Anything you say goes, shown in the way he's knelt in front of you, looking up with a delicious reverence that sparkled in his eyes. "I wish to have a taste of my wife. My Queen."
My Queen.
So you nod. "Go ahead."
And he dives in.
His tongue flattens across your entrance, dragging all the way up in one long lick until the ridges brush your throbbing clit. "Ah." The plush back of your throne cushions your head, the intense need building already. "Xavier."
Xavier hums. Yes, being called all the royal nicknames and titles is nice—the respect and service shown by the people of the palace and kingdom alike. But nothing compares to hearing his name. Just his name. Especially when you say it. The soft sound of each letter on your tongue. No titles. No extra reverence. Just Xavier.
"You taste divine, my love," Xavier whispers against your cunt, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking. He's been between your thighs too many times to count, but there's something about the power dynamic that makes you taste even better. Your elegance, even with your thighs spread lewdly and lips parted in a moan, outmatches anything he could conjure up in his brain.
The constant pressure of his mouth around your clit is paired with quick and sharp flicks of the tip of his tongue to stimulate you even more. He knows you like the back of his hand, his fingers kneading the flesh of your thigh while he laps and sucks at your needy cunt. Your slick coats your skin, dripping down and staining the fabric of your dress that cradles your ass. It also makes a mess of Xavier's face. His skin glistens, his chin wet, but he couldn't care less when your noises blanket his ears and overrule his senses.
Pulling back with a gasp, he smiles, his lips shining in the light that streams through the windows. "Get loud, love." His large palms settle on the insides of your thighs, holding you open for him. It's not like you can do anything with your legs hooked over the armrests and hips pushed against the seat of the throne. "I want everyone in this palace to hear how good you feel."
"So, so good, Xavier." You gasp, your hand instinctively reaching down to thread through his locks. You're the only person he will let touch his hair, the tips of your fingers massaging his scalp with slow movements as his tongue parts your folds and dips inside your tight hole. "So good."
His thumb massages your muscle, soothing you from the pleasure that rockets through your body as the tip of his nose brushes your clit. Eyelids flutter as he ravishes you, his brain hazing over with desire. In the confines of his pants, his cock throbs, leaking into his underwear and staining the fabric. The pleasure he gets just from your grip on his hair and the pulsing of your walls around his tongue is heightened. He loves feeling you underneath him.
"Xavier… Xavier…" Your voice is soft, leading into louder whimpers and whines that echo in the vacant banquet hall. "Fu—oh my- Xavier!" The sound is gone from your throat as soon as his finger breaches the ring of muscles. It's not a painful stretch, but he needs to prepare you for what's to come.
"My love, I am weak for you." He whispers, his index finger pushing all the way to the knuckle. The pulsing of your cunt around the digit has his heart racing. "On my knees. For you." It's almost a growl, edging into something primal as he starts slowly thrusting inside your wet sunt. "I am yours, love. Irrevocably yours. Until the end of eternity."
"Xavier." It's the only word in your dictionary. Your mind is blank except for his name. "Xavier…"
Your words are met with another finger joining the first. A gentle kiss is pressed to your clit. "Keep going. Good girl." His coaxing voice turns deeper. "You are stunning. I could spend my entire life right here, between these beautiful thighs, enjoying your perfect cunt." Squelches of his fingers thrusting in and out of your hole follow, and your moans pick up when he dips his head back down to suck your clit into his mouth.
"Oh— Xav—ier!" You try to buck your hips, but he wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you still as he fucks into you with even further abandon. "I am… I—"
"I know." He parts for just a split second before going back to work, his tongue flicking and dragging across your cunt while he curls his fingers to find the spot that twitches at your muscles. Flashes of light flicker behind your eyelids as you close them, the intense heat that beats with your heart keeps going, following the pattern of his fingers that beckon you closer and closer. "Come for me, love. Let me see your beautiful face."
The back of your foot digs into Xavier's shoulder as your orgasm crashes over you, your cunt throbbing with each wave of pleasure that floods your body. Your heart thunders against your chest, and the way Xavier keeps going, keeps sucking and licking at your clit, ebbs into overstimulation.
"Xavier." Your voice shakes, subtle and weak, as he kisses the insides of your thighs. Everything in him wants to keep going, to see you jerk and cry from the pleasure, but he grants you a moment of reprieve as he slowly stands and maps a trail with his mouth to your knee, then your calf, and then the inside of your ankle.
As he stands, he looks down at you, his eyes lidded. "You did so well for me." His hands massage your thighs, leaning down enough to kiss you. The taste of yourself on his tongue does nothing except pull you in further, your hand cupping his chin as he roams his hands across your body. When he parts, his forehead finds yours, his eyes shining depths of devotion. "I love you so much, my Queen."
"I love you, too. My King."
Xavier takes a breath, his heart doing somersaults in his chest. You've called him that so many times, but in the public solitude of the banquet hall, with your body half naked on your throne, it feels far more intimate.
"I must take you again." His hands frantically shove down his pants. In any other scenario, he would take his time undressing you and himself, your bodies temples for the other to worship. But he would rather tear men limb from limb than have them see you in a vulnerable state. "Please, my love."
At your nod, he taps your still throbbing clit with the tip of his cock, the wet noises filling the air as he rubs himself between your folds. In one slow, agonizing push, he enters you all the way to the hilt, his knees bent and hands steadying your hips. It's an awkward angle, but it doesn't last long. With the strength of a warrior, he lifts you from your throne, moving only a few steps to sit on his throne.
The one made for him, yet he would share with you.
"Look at you." He whispers, flipping your dress up so he can see himself buried to the hilt in your cunt. "It is like I was made for you, love." A bit of wonder edges into his voice, like fate itself put him on this mortal plain specifically for you.
A slow breath is all you can manage; the feeling of him so deep inside you, his eyes focused on your messy folds and your arousal that is already ruining his pants, is too much. "Please… Move, please." You're desperate, your eyes meeting his as your hands settle on his shoulders.
Xavier grabs your wrist, bringing your hand to the fabric of your dress. "Hold it." He mumbles, his fingers gripping your bare hips as he grinds you down onto him. "Fu- love…" His shaky words spur you on more, and with one hand anchoring yourself, you sit up on your knees.
The emptiness hits you for just a second before Xavier's biceps flex and he brings you right back down. "Still sensitive?" He teases when you whimper, one of his hands slipping up your dress to palm your breast under the tight bodice. The warmth of his palm on your skin, paired with his thumb flicking across your nipple, rips the words from your throat. So you just nod.
You're met with a chuckle. "Give me words, my love." He repeats his movements, bringing you down onto him once more in a slow drop. The slap of your thighs on his hips is the only sound besides the lewd words that he whispers into your ear. "I cannot hear you over the wetness of your cunt."
"Ye—yes, yes." You say, your head falling until your chin almost meets your chest. "Still- yeah… Still sensitive." Another whimper, your cunt clenching down around his cock as he picks up the pace. His hips rise to meet you, fucking into you with just a bit more intensity and impatience. "Oh- Xavier!"
He hums, satisfaction lining his lips. A smile, sweet yet full of promise, curls at the corners, and he stares into your eyes with the worship of a priest at the altar. "There you go." He praises you, coaxing with a thumb, finding your clit, and starting slow circles. "You know I love hearing you. I love hearing what only I can do for you."
Each of his words drips in ecstasy, his cock throbbing with pent-up need and hands roaming your skin under your dress. "You are so beautiful, my light." The nickname change sends a wave of pleasure through you. The dulcet, gentle tone of his voice holds all the love he could ever carry. A world of devotion on his back, holding it up for you and only you. "So, so beautiful."
"Xavier." You moan, your head falling back for a second before you find his gaze once more. The intensity of his stare shakes your spine, your cunt wrapped around his cock and dripping onto his pants. "Please."
"Please, what, my love?" He grunts, his teeth clenched as you rise and fall on the thickness of his length. Each time you sit flush on him, another whimper or moan slips from your lips. "I need… I need words."
His fingers tighten on your hip, taking control of your movements and bringing you up and down on his cock as he wishes. Nothing else matters except for your pleasure. Your noises. Your beauty wrapped in sunlight. Your cunt ready for him.
"Xa- I am… Oh- gods." The change in pace sets a fire ablaze in your body, swallowing everything and leaving you moaning and whimpering as he both fucks up into you and brings you down onto him. The pad of his thumb keeps drawing rough circles into your throbbing clit, the previous orgasm still lingering with overstimulation.
A growl vibrates his chest, his body holding back until you've finished. You, above everything else. That's his mantra that he chants in his head as you get closer and closer to the edge. "Come on, love." He groans, his fingers gripping so tightly that you're sure you'll be sore in the morning, but you don't care. "Come for me."
So you do.
White hot light fills your vision, your eyes closing and your body falling on top of Xavier's. Not in control of your own muscles, Xavier wraps his arms around your waist, holding you to him and soothing you through the intensity.
Your cunt clamps down on him, his cock throbbing as he keeps you completely flush against him, filling you with as much as he can. Each twitch sends another rush of come against your walls, the sensation making soft whimpers leave your lips as you bury your face in his neck.
The aftershocks come and go with each flutter of your walls around him, milking him for everything he will give you, which is everything. Every inch of himself. Every inch of his soul. It's all yours for the taking.
"Shhh," Xavier soothes you, his hand cupping the back of your neck and massaging the tense muscles there. "You did so well, my love." His words are shaky, his chest heaving with his own orgasm that finishes even before you're able to hear what he's saying. "You are perfect. So perfect."
By the time you catch your breath, you place featherlight kisses on the exposed skin of his neck. The long tendrils of his hair tickle your forehead and cheek. "I love you, Xavier." You mumble, your eyes drooping with sleep at just past noon. "So much."
Xavier hums. "I love you, too." Your fingers play with the ends of his hair, his cock already softening inside you. "To the ends of eternity and beyond."
After a moment, Xavier moves to slowly bend and grab your panties that have draped over the armrest of his throne. He tucks it into a small pocket inside his jacket before shifting to lift you off of him. When you whimper at the emptiness, he chuckles.
"Oh, my Queen." He teases, pulling his pants up and draping your dress back over your legs. In one movement, he stands and scoops you up into a bridal carry. "You are entirely too spoiled, are you not?"
In the sleep-adled state, you hum and rest your head on his shoulder. "Because my husband spoils me so." You counter, listening to his heartbeat thrum against your ear. The way you mumble the title, only able to slip from your pretty lips, has Xavier blushing.
He starts walking, carrying his Queen, his wife, to your shared bedchambers. "Indeed. Your husband is too enamored with you to say no." His steps are measured, almost rocking you to sleep while he kisses your forehead.
By the time he got to your shared bed, he had passed a few people in the palace. They all saw a man, a husband, caring for his wife. Not a King hellbent on ruling his kingdom. Not a soldier ready to join the front lines. Just a man, carrying the one woman who means the most to him. Above all else. Above his people. Above his kingdom. Above himself.
"Here we are, love." The plush blanket cradles your body, and with your formal dress still on and no panties, you find yourself drifting to sleep. The last thing you hear is the soft smack of Xavier's lips on your cheek, and his voice in your ear.
"I have a meeting to attend to." His voice is filled with apology. "But you rest. I shall be with you very soon. I cannot leave you for long. I love you."
With your panties still in his pocket, he steps out, nodding at two knights who stand guard at the door. Even in the peaceful kingdom, there are always risks, and he would rather be safe than sorry. Knowing you're secure, he smooths out his cape, wiping his lips with his sleeve and straightening his back. Business must be attended to, but he knows he has you waiting on him.
And he will always come back for you.