Chapter 3
Three
A good brownie never lies.
But I’m getting so good at it!
- Arienna
Present day, Raza’s Throne Room
Staring at my king, I recall Fabia’s book in immaculate detail. The blood. The cum. The intense claiming. The even more intense orgasm Queen Persephone –and I– had at the end when Khodan outlasted them all.
“Okay, yes,” I admit as he walks towards me.
“I’ve rubbed one or two out after reading about a slug dicks gangbang tournament, but it was fiction.
I’m sure if I saw it happen in real life, I’d be chanting, ‘Peace treaty.’” That’s our safe word.
Well, Richard’s safe word, technically, but I’m using it until I can come up with my own.
“So you see…” I back up as he steps towards me, my hands twisting in front of my belly.
“I don’t really care for all the stabbing stuff.
I like the piercing on your dick. That’s nice.
Not sharp at all. And I know I was into all the cutting stuff last night, but –” I suck in a ragged breath.
Hiccup. Start to laugh. “I’m not judging you, of course. A good brownie never –”
Pulling me into his arms, Richard holds me to his chest. “Breathe with me.” His words are soft and tender as his calloused hands massage my back. “Feel my chest moving against yours.”
He breathes out. Then in, his chest moving away from my cheek. And it’s only as I’m being held tightly to his solid body that I realise how much I’m shaking. Swallowing, I try to breathe, matching the rhythm of his lungs.
“That’s it. Good girl. And again.”
His fingers dig into my bare skin –my jumpsuit doesn’t have a back– and kneads the knots out of me. Whenever his chest moves, I follow it, breathing in and out. In and out.
Slowly starting to still.
“Good girl.”
Shuddering, I tilt my head back and peer up at him. He looks down at me, his violet eyes soft yet guarded. And that hurts more than the idea of being fucked by a slug dick.
“I’m sorry I made you feel bad about your kink,” I say softly.
His lips twitch before they still. “Is that all you’re having a panic attack over?”
I nod.
“Well, fret not, my queen, because I do not have a slug dick fetish.”
My eyes flicker across his face, trying to make sure he isn’t lying to me. “Really?”
“Really.” His lips touch my ear. “The only dick I want in you is mine.”
“Ah.” I clear my throat as a blush slams into my cheeks. “And not in my stomach?” I ask, just to be sure.
He chuckles. “No.”
I breathe out in relief. “Oh, thank gods.”
His lips capture mine, and I open to him. A smile curls his mouth, but then it fades as I pull back.
“Wait, then why did you stab Lief if it wasn’t because you were wishing your knife was a dick?”
“Wishing my knife…” He blinks. “I stabbed Lief because he did something wrong.”
“But he didn’t yell until after you stabbed him.” I know a good brownie never yells, but I’m pretty certain you’re not supposed to punish people until after they break a rule.
“It wasn’t for that.”
“Then why –”
“Do you trust me?” he asks softly.
“Of course.”
“Can you trust that I’ve done the right thing even though I cannot tell you why?”
I study his face, knowing there’s a deeper question under that one. Reminded of the pain I put in his eyes, the trust I broke last night when I accidentally got Fabia to kill him, I cup his face and nod.
“I trust you,” I say. Even if I can still hear Lief’s scream in my ears, so terrible and cold, I know my king is a good man.
He presses into my palm as he closes his eyes. Then he kisses me again, a light brushing of our lips. “Do you want to continue seeing our people, or would you like Jace to take you to our rooms?” he asks as he steps back.
I jerk back in horror. “You want me to fly without you?”
He smirks, damn well knowing how he gets me to calm down when he takes to the air.
“Though I guess Jace could fin–”
I yelp as he picks me up, but my noises are smothered by his mouth.
With a spread of his softly glowing, translucent wings, he flies us up the dais.
I close my eyes as his tongue distracts me from the fact that I could have walked up the bloody stairs.
But I know this is a punishment for teasing him about Jace.
When he sets me down on the ground, I stumble towards my throne. It’s a powerful piece of art – thorn-covered vines interlocking to create a towering back and thick base. But gods, is it awful to sit in. What it is though, is solidly on the floor, so that ticks all the boxes I need right now.
Perching on the edge of my seat, I smile as Richard takes his place beside me.
His chair isn’t as outlandishly carved as mine, but it doesn’t look the slightest bit comfortable either.
Yet, still he sits fully on it, letting the thorns dig into his ass.
His wings are spread out to the sides, resting lightly on the arms of his throne.
Swallowing, I wriggle back a little bit, trying to play the part of his queen.
Jace walks over to the double doors leading to outside.
A thick line of people snakes on the branch of the tree in front of us.
Taking a deep breath, I reach across for the hand of my king.
He threads his fingers through mine and gives it a small squeeze.
Then the first person steps forwards, and I relax at how friendly she looks.
Pastels cover her from head to toe. Baggy, autumn leaf-patterned trousers fall over soft brown leather boots.
Her sleeveless shirt, a collage of buckles and belts, consist of every pale colour of the rainbow.
Slivers of rich brown skin covered in emerald runes peek beneath the bands.
Even her piercings are colourful – soft blues and pinks and purples.
They hang from her ears, are embedded in her nose, pinch her brows, and curve around her lip.
Painted orange, they match her left eye.
Her right eye, however, is green, a solid likeness to the emerald ink scrawled across her entire body.
As she passes Jace, she runs a hand across his chest. He grins at her, and she winks back. Turning her attention to us, she strolls in as if she’s walking to her own throne.
Smiling broadly, feeling completely at ease with her, I lift my free hand and wave.
She flicks me a two finger wave back before rolling that hand in front of her as she bows at the waist. Her other arm stretches out sideways.
She keeps her different coloured eyes on mine even as she greets the both of us.
Only then does she look at Richard. Her eyes, hot and tempting, she straightens. “Jace and I missed you the other night,” she purrs.
My lips part on a silent gasp as I think about what she means. So many scenarios run through my head, making my pussy wet.
Jace fucking her from behind, his hands cupping her breasts for Richard to suck on...
Him thrusting inside her as Jace’s head lowers between her legs...
Her on all fours as Richard guides her head onto his cock and Jace holds down her hips…
And then she shifts into me in my fantasies because if my king is up for a threesome, then godsdamn am I going to be at the centre of the next one.
The woman looks at me as if she can read my thoughts. Her gaze licks me from head to toe. Richard’s hand feels even hotter against my skin. Pressing my lips together, I try not to make a sound.
“Though I can see why you didn’t join us,” the woman purrs. “She looks a lot more entertaining than a game of throwing knives. You should bring her next time.”
I deflate a little. That doesn’t sound anywhere near as fun as a threesome. “Throwing knives?” I ask politely.
“Yes. We take turns throwing knives at a target, and then everyone who doesn’t win that round has to remove an item of clothing.” She laughs as she glances over her shoulder at Jace. “Their own clothing,” she stresses.
A weak breath leaves me as Jace pulls out a gosberry from inside his tunic. He brings it to his lips, running it across them as his eyes stay focused on the pastel woman. “You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.”
He sucks a side of the berry into his mouth, and I feel that gesture right on my breasts. A small noise tickles the back of my throat. Richard growls beside me.
Blinking, I wrench my gaze away from Jace. My cheeks fully on fire, I clear my throat. “How… how may we be of help, Ms uh…”
“Deirdre, Your Majesty,” she says before turning to face us.
“Tory Deirdre, but everyone calls me Deirdre.” She nods at my husband.
“As you know, Your Majesty, I am all for this new era of peace, but I’ve had a look at those who’ve applied for a stall for today’s opening market.
One of them is really going to kill my business if they’re allowed to open up a shop here longterm. ”
Jace snickers, and I feel like I’m missing something. I’ve never felt more stupid or out of place, not understanding the subtleties of this culture.
My king squeezes my hand. “She’s a necromancer for hire,” he murmurs, just for me, and my love for him grows exponentially. I turn my head to smile at him, but then I freeze.
My eyes open wide. Jerking my head over to Jace, I glare at him. I bet he knows way more about necromancy than he let me believe!
Before I can voice my suspicions, Richard asks her, “I’m assuming this business is a healer’s?”
She shakes her head in exasperation. “That’s the thing. I can compete with healers. There aren’t many of them and it takes years for them to train, but this Vylian is showing people how to dress wounds and treat illnesses, using herbs they can find anywhere for free.”
“But isn’t that a good thing?” I ask, genuinely at a loss. A good brownie always helps people in pain.