Chapter XXX Closer
XXX Closer
When I wake up to the golden sunlight of early afternoon, everything hurts. I groan and try to roll, only to realize someone lies behind me, his throbbing length filling my pussy. I can’t move.
“M-Magnar,” I say, my voice coming out croaky. “Need… To go… Ow.”
Indeed, I feel uncomfortably full, as if I’d gorged myself on food the night before, only, it’s not food filling my belly. Magnar grunts reluctantly and pulls out. I realize the sheets under my hips are wet. The room reeks of rose oil and musk.
“How do you feel?” he murmurs, stroking my side when I try to sit up, my muscles protesting.
“Awful,” I admit with a sob. “Ow, ow, ow!”
He growls and sits up, helping me sit. “Bathroom?”
I nod. He gets out of bed and takes me in his arms, his eyes heavy-lidded and lined by purple shadows. He’s exhausted, but his steps are sure, and he deposits me in the bathroom with ease.
“Hot bath should help.” He fiddles with the tap until steaming water pours out. “I’ll leave the door open. Shout if you need me.”
When I’m ready for the bath, I stand in front of it, biting the inside of my lip. It’s big, far too high for me to climb into in my current state.
“Magnar?” I ask hesitantly. It feels presumptuous to make my husband, the king, serve me, but he’s the only one awake.
He grunts, the sheets rustling, and he pads in on bare feet a moment later. “Yes, darling?”
“I can’t get in on my own,” I admit, looking away.
“Of course.”
He lifts me gently and lowers me into the water, and I sigh in bliss as the heat eases into my aching muscles. Magnar gives me a tired smile and pats my head.
“You tend to fall asleep in the tub, don’t you? I’ll join you in a minute.”
He goes over to the toilet, and I watch him with tired eyes, my thoughts slow and lazy. But when he lifts the lid and a loud, splashing sound fills my ears, I sit up and gape.
“Are you… relieving yourself?”
He snorts under his breath. “Pissing, love. Say it for me. ‘Are you pissing, Magnar?’ Go on.”
I groan, shaking my head. “I’m too tired for this! Ugh, fine. Are you pissing, Magnar?”
His arm shakes briefly, and he bends to lower the lid, then pulls the chain to flush. He turns to me with a pleased smile and washes his hands in the washbasin.
“Yes, love, I was pissing. Scoot over.”
I push away from the narrow end of the tub, and he gets in, leaning back comfortably as he pulls me into him. I sit between his spread legs, the back of my head leaning on his chest, and he purrs with pleasure.
“Good wife. Stay.”
I roll my eyes with a smile. “So I’m a dog now?”
“Mmm. My sweet bitch in heat.”
“What!” I turn with outrage, slapping both hands on his meaty chest. “How dare you insult me!”
His smile falls, and he studies me for a moment. “Do you truly feel insulted or do you only believe you should be?” he asks seriously. “If it’s the former, I’ll never speak to you this way again. I hoped you might like it. Be honest.”
I huff, looking away as I think. Magnar waits, and slowly, I realize I don’t feel humiliated. His manner was affectionate, and there was nothing scornful in his voice even if the words were dirty.
“What you said was insulting,” I say carefully. “Your manner wasn’t.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Mm-hmm. And?”
I flush when his eyes turn a bit mocking, though he still waits patiently for me to make my decision.
“I guess… When we’re mating, I won’t mind milder insults,” I mumble, remembering his crude behavior and words from last night. I didn’t mind any of that at all—indeed, he made me feel hot and flustered.
“Understood. May I prevail upon you to say ‘fucking’ instead of ‘mating’, love?”
“You may not.”
“Very well.”
His eyes soft and hooded, he strokes my hair that’s probably a frizzy, horrid mess. I straddle his thighs, craning my neck to see his face.
“How do you sound so vulgar sometimes, and at other times, so sophisticated?” I ask.
“Ever since my father decided I should marry a royal princess from one of the Eleven, I had tutors. They taught me your language, the proper way to speak, and they tried very hard to instill in me proper manners, but I’m afraid their endeavors were futile.
They tried to turn me into someone worthy of sitting at the Table of Kings, but I was hard to reform. Still am, unfortunately.”
I frown. He speaks with a careless air, but there is a current of frustration underneath. I get the sense Magnar feels he’s not quite adequate, and it’s so ridiculous. Even before I met him, he was larger than life, a legend. A horrid one, true, but a legend nonetheless.
Doesn’t he see? He’s more worthy of sitting at the Table of Kings than most. Their seats were inherited. He won his through many victorious conquests.
“You have great manners when you want to,” I say after I put my thoughts in order.
“But I don’t think you need them. Your strength lies in being different, and you should use that instead of trying to blend in.
To be honest, it’s quite unnerving when you grin with those teeth, making a rude joke, and right after that, speak like a well-mannered courtier.
I’d lean into that if I were you. It will keep them on their toes, and they’ll struggle to keep up with you instead of the other way round. ”
He raises a handsome eyebrow, watching me quizzically before he smiles. “That’s very good advice, my smart wife. Thank you. I’ll do that.”
I color, instantly uncomfortable at being called smart. But then… It was good advice. That’s why I gave it.
Pushing through the discomfort, I mumble, “Thank you.”
Magnar laughs warmly and settles his hand on my lower back, pulling me closer. I gasp when his erection pushes into my belly. I didn’t even notice when he hardened.
“I don’t think I can handle…” I begin, but he interrupts by pressing the side of my face to his chest in an affectionate gesture.
“Ignore it, then. I want to cuddle my wife in the bath. It’s one of the things I fantasized about, and truth be told, it’s even better in reality. You’re savvy, my queen, though you could do with more self-confidence. We’ll get you there.”
“What did you expect your queen to be like?”
Magnar hums thoughtfully, his fingers running through my hair as he untangles it gently.
“I’m not sure. I had pretty realistic expectations, I think. I thought she’d be an innocent, sheltered girl, probably na?ve and spoiled, easily startled. Used to luxury. Snobbish and arrogant. I braced for her sneering at me, at what I offered.
“Other times… Well, we dreamed together, me and my knights, when we were back home from the war. Often in this bedroom. The queen of our dreams was warm and pliant, insatiable, trusting. Soft and in need of protection. Generous, with wide hips made for birthing. Kind. Understanding. Responsive. Ha, a loving whore. We were men sworn to celibacy, you understand. Our dicks did the thinking.”
He snorts, and I swallow, not wanting to ask how much of a disappointment I am, yet needing to know. Magnar seems to read my mind.
“You’re very different from what I expected and much better than what I dreamed of.
We’re still getting to know one another, of course, but I already noticed you are brave, beautiful, and strong.
You are fair, too. I never suspected how important that was until I saw it in you.
You show amazing resilience, oh, and tact.
It’s something I lack, so I admire it all the more.
And I’m grateful. Not once did you sneer at my home, even though it’s so different from yours.
You surpassed my wildest dreams. You’re perfect. ”
“Oh.”
We embrace in silence, and I listen to his strong, even heartbeat.
It is very pleasant to share a bath with him, and I understand why it was something he dreamed of.
I wet my hand and paint shapes and patterns on his skin, watching as droplets roll down his ribcage, and it’s at once thrilling and peaceful.
I have a man of my own. I can touch him. He even let me see him, well, piss. There’s something strangely exhilarating about it.
“Who did you expect to marry? If I hadn’t conquered your kingdom.”
I snort into his warm skin. “Not an Agnidari king. I’m not sure. You see, I never had any suitors.”
“How so? You’re the only heiress to Farneer. I’m sure every ruler in the Eleven foamed at the mouth to get his hands on you.”
I shrug, a bitter memory surfacing in my mind.
“Well, I… One day I asked my father. I think I was seventeen, maybe eighteen. My mother married at that age, and when she was alive, she often said I would, too. But Father never mentioned anyone asking for my hand, and that day, he told me I was too precious to give away to just anyone. He said they were all rabble, useless princelings who wouldn’t know how to cherish his prize.
He said we would talk again when a worthy candidate appeared. ”
I bite the inside of my lip and release a heavy sigh, pushing away the memory of my father caressing my face, his eyes feverish, breath hot and unpleasant.
“I snuck into his study later when I knew he was away and found a bundle of official matrimony offers from the other ten kingdoms as well as a few overseas nations. When I asked my governess about them, I was punished, so I let it go. I don’t know. It was strange.”
Magnar pushes my hair to the side and strokes my back with his warm palm.
“My prize,” he muses. “It’s almost like he hoarded you. Were you lonely, Caliane? Did he let you have friends?”
I laugh uncomfortably. “Well, I… Not as such, no. I had the teachers, and I met other princesses and princes at rare official functions, but Father never threw any balls, not after Mother passed away… Besides, I was awkward. I never knew how to talk to people my age. I mostly just kept to myself. I’m… flawed that way.”
Magnar growls, his chest vibrating against my cheek in a surprisingly pleasant way.
“You’re not flawed,” he says with conviction. “How were you supposed to know how to talk to your peers if you never learned? It’s a skill you practice, and you were denied the opportunity. Your father didn’t like sharing you with the world, did he?”
I clear my throat, trying to dislodge the heavy weight sitting there. We’re too close to reckless territory, to truth, to him uncovering my deepest shame. I shake my head.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Hmm. All right. But you’ll tell me someday.”
I don’t make a sound, reluctant to give him that promise. Magnar doesn’t wait for confirmation, though, his voice growing light and teasing.
“So you never had suitors, but you must have thought of marriage. What did you fantasize about, lying in your virginal bed in Farneer? What was your dream husband like?”
I huff with laughter, grateful for this bit of silliness. “Well, he was dashing. A prince with blond hair and green eyes, one who rode elegantly, picked flowers for his maiden, and sang her poems under the light of two moons.”
He snorts, and I laugh with him, marveling at how silly those dreams were. Feeling a little cheeky, I continue.
“That’s in the past, of course. I’ve recently discovered white hair is far superior to blond.”
Magnar exhales with force, urging me away from his chest until I look at him. His eyes are warm and piercing.
“My dearest wife, are you flirting with me? How scandalous,” he says with a smirk.
“Am I?” I cover my mouth with a giggle. “Was that flirting? I had no idea!”
“It was,” he confirms, pulling my hand gently away. “And I love it. Tell me of my eyes. Do you prefer them to green ones?”
“Oh, you make enormous demands. I’m not certain I should oblige.”
“You should, or I’ll have to fuck the answer out of you.”
A thrill pulses in my sore belly, and I hesitate, moving my hips from side to side to check if I could maybe handle it. He groans, throwing his head back, and I’m treated to the sight of his long, muscular throat.
“You’ll kill me, pet. ‘Death by constant arousal.’ They’ll engrave it on the stone over my ashes.”
I touch his throat, marveling at how soft his skin is, how strong the muscles underneath. Magnar takes my hand and presses it to his Adam’s apple, letting my fingers curl around his throat. I gasp, and he groans, flexing his hips.
“Squeeze. Just once. Please. Fuck, you have no idea. You have me on a leash.”
My breathing grows faster, and I do as he says, my fingers tightening. He swallows, and I feel the movement under my grip. I’m not strong enough to hurt him—indeed, my palm is probably too small to do any damage.
For an inexplicable reason, Magnar seems even more aroused.
“Why do you like this?” I ask, perplexed as I stroke his fluttering pulse point with my thumb.
“I like everything you do to me,” he replies hotly, cupping my butt.
I squeak, grabbing onto his shoulders when he brings me higher until his lips reach mine. We kiss, and he devours me with possessive strokes of his tongue, murmuring wordless affections into my mouth. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark, cheeks flushed.
“Kiss me here. With an open mouth, and you can lick.”
He holds me up with one hand under my bottom while the other angles my head so my lips press to the crook of his neck.
I oblige, softly at first, then do as he says.
I open my mouth and lick, and he moans from pleasure.
His reaction emboldens me, and I press my teeth, so much blunter than his, to his throat and bite down.
His moan is the loudest yet, and he curses in the Agnidari language. I pull back, thrilled to see the shallow imprint of my teeth in his skin, and I lick the place better, finally sucking his skin into my mouth. Magnar lowers me into his lap, panting as if he’s just run a race.
“Fuck,” he says shakily. “Please, let me fuck you. I’ll be slow. Gentle. We’ll oil you up.”
My insides tighten, but even that reaction makes the pain bloom harder.
I was well used last night, and I sigh with regret as I shake my head.
Magnar closes his eyes, forehead lined with tension, then lifts himself to his knees until his hips are above water.
He grips his cock and strokes roughly, and I watch it with hot cheeks.
It’s quick. He brings himself to completion with violent movements, and when his seed shoots out, he gathers most of it in his cupped palm. It overflows and splashes into the water, milky droplets slowly dissolving.
“Come here. Stand with your legs apart.”
I obey, holding on to his shoulder. Magnar looks into my face, and we’re practically level with him kneeling at my feet.
“I’ll breed my wife even when I can’t fuck her,” he says with a wicked grin. “Deep breaths, pet.”