Chapter 6
S able
This man, Captain Uther, is often referred to by royal watchers as “the silent minder.”
The thought is laughable now.
This man? Silent? No way. He’s got plenty to say while he’s eight inches deep.
Uther’s hearty thrusts punctuate each phrase.
“Totally…fucking…infuriating.”
“I am not infuriating. You are!” My voice is a ragged squeak. I hear how childish that sounds even as the words leave my mouth. How else can I express myself when I can barely catch my breath while Uther’s dicking the brain cells out of me?
He rocks into me with the rhythm of a runaway train, filling me, stretching me, and obliterating me.
The low rumble of laughter vibrates against my back, even through the layers of material between us. I have the overwhelming need to push him away and tear both our clothes off. I need to feel all that power against me.
But that’s impossible at the moment, the way he’s driving into me with fierce determination.
This is about much more than Uther getting off. It’s much more than his need to get me out of his system. The way he holds me with steady, gentle hands, the way he buries his face in my hair and inhales. The way his guttural noises are edged with a need beyond sex.
Could he have real feelings? Could this thing between us be real?
Could there be more between us between sweat and spit and cum?
I need more than his body. I need Uther to understand things about me.
As he pounds into me, I tell him the truth.
“I didn’t…I didn’t come up in society, either. Despite what you assume.”
He grunts softly against my throat as he pushes up firmly.
“That’s not why I follow you around, Uther. That’s not why I look at you the way I do…it has…oh gods…you feel good…it has nothing to do with snobbery.”
His voice is a rattle with the effort. Gods, the stamina. “Don’t trouble yourself with what I think of you.”
“I need you to know…I don’t look down on you. I stare because I see … the most beautiful soul…in your eyes.”
Uther pistons his hips harder, but I give back as much as he gives me. “You don’t know the first thing…about me…” he rumbles.
But I do. At least, I know all there is to know based on the media reports, the royal watcher blogs, and everything Princess Flora has told me about him.
He’s good and pure and built for me. It’s as simple as that.
Later today, when we’ve cleaned up and moved on with our daily tasks, my body will remember how perfect this is.
I’ll be sewing a ballgown for Flora and thinking of him as I sit at my sewing machine.
Every press of the pedal will make that soreness radiate through me. I already know this.
“I know you’re a good man. I’ve seen the way you dote on the queen and on the princess. It’s enough to make a girl jealous, Uther.”
I strangle him with my inner walls, my sweat and my essence combining to drip everywhere, but I don’t care.
“You’re a fucking trip, little poppy,” he says, now thrusting at a furious pace. “…And I love it.”
Uther’s powerful thrust is so strong that I jerk forward. The large stone over which I am bent jars itself loose and tumbles over the side of the tower.
I scream as I fall forward, but Uther has me. He sets me back on my feet, his arms around my middle.
I watch in horror as the large stone tumbles and shatters on the mossy courtyard below.
“Shit! We broke the castle!” I cry.
Still buried inside me, Uther trembles.
At first, I think he might be crying. “I’m so sorry, Captain. I shouldn’t have come.” He rests his head against my shoulder and I feel tears soak through my sweater as he bends over me.
Gods almighty, I know the man takes his job seriously, but…
The snort from Uther catches me off guard.
Is he…is he laughing?
“Um, Uther?”
I am jostled as this magnificent man throws his head back in roaring laughter.
In the end, I join his infectious mirth, both of us still in shock and giddy at what’s just happened, as if we’re two rebellious schoolchildren who’ve cut class to do vandalism.
When the laughter dies down, I expect him to let me go and send me on my way.
But instead, he holds on to me, hugging me close.
It’s not lost on me that he is still buried inside me. I am so full of him that I can hardly keep my knees from buckling.
The cold wind batters my face, blowing my hair back, into his eyes. Chuckling, Uther smoothes my hair down, petting me like a precious pet.
I don’t know how long we stay like this, but after some time, the winds begin to ease, and the gray clouds break up.
Uther groans, loud and long. His body stiffens behind me, a massive wall of tense power as he explodes inside me.
His final thrusts are slow and deliberate, his teeth catching the fabric of my sweater at my shoulder, as if to muffle his animalistic sounds.
His release comes in long, hot spurts, his body twitching, and yet his gentle hands never let me go.
He is always vigilant. Always attentive, and it makes my heart ache.
Uther’s spasms finally calm, and I reach back to stroke his freshly shaven cheek.
He gives a full-body sigh, like a prized stallion having a cool-down.
I know we don’t have much time, and I know he knows that, too, yet he stays seated inside me, not letting me go.
When I catch my breath, I speak. “I wasn’t chosen to be the palace stylist because of any family connections.
My father was a fisherman and my mother worked as a seamstress.
They were killed in the crossfire during the gang wars, and I was taken in by my aunt.
She was cruel and I ran away. I raised myself on the streets in the capital. ”
“Why are you telling me this?” Uther breathes into my sweater, warming my skin.
“Because I’m not what you think I am. And I want you to know me.”
In the distance, I hear car wheels on gravel. Someone is coming up the hill.
Once again, Uther’s body tenses, and in the next second, he lets me go. I turn around, and he’s there, helping me put myself back together, smoothing down my skirt, fixing my sweater, sweeping the dirt off my discarded cape. A wicked half-smirk tugs at his lip as he tends to me.
I must look a wreck. Uther, on the other hand, looks as fresh as he was the moment I spotted him entering the tower. A simple graze of his fingers through his hair, and he looks perfect. It’s totally unfair.
“I should let you tend to your queen now,” I say, picking up his belt and holster.
His eyes shoot me a warning as he takes his things. “I could have you charged with crimes for touching my weapons.”
I roll my eyes, then remember the reason I came here. Well, one of the reasons. “Just one more thing.” I reach into my bag to grab my tailor’s tape, but Uther stills my hand.
The look in his eye is fierce. “Be in my bed at noon and I’ll give you those measurements you want.”
“But you said…” He cuts me off with a feral, claiming kiss.
“I said, be in my bed at noon. And don’t you fucking shower first.”
Dazed, I blink up at him and nod, sighing. “Yes, Captain,” I breathe.
I stumble away, half expecting him to slap my ass.
But he doesn’t do that. The silent minder would never.