33. Killian
Killian
Our favorite place to relax on sun-soaked summer evenings is in the highest tower, surveying our land. It doesn’t stretch terribly far. We don’t need it to. We have everything we need here.
The castle provides.
It took me some time to get used to the way its magic fulfills our every need, but it turns out that when respected and not abused, magic is helpful.
Fate has a vicious sense of humor. First making my mother addicted to the stuff, then having to rely upon it to save my life. The way it simmers in the background of our lives is the way I imagine the fae experienced it, as a natural element woven into the warp and weft of this land.
I glance down at the woman sleeping in my arms, her fair head cradled against my shoulder with a rose blooming beneath her cheek. A wave of love washes over me, as gentle as a calm sea lapping against the beach.
When I gently brush a tendril of hair away from her face, she stirs.
“I fell asleep again.”
“You needed the rest.” I kept her awake last night, and then rolled over and awoke Briar before she would have liked to get out of bed. Not that we got out of bed. The habits of a soldier are still ingrained in me, and despite having been raised on a farm, my sleeping beauty is a late riser by nature.
Or, perhaps, it’s the baby’s influence.
I drop a kiss on Briar’s soft head. The blanket falls down to reveal one creamy shoulder. I run my thumb over the curve.
“Are you hungry?”
Her low chuckle brings a smile to my lips.
“I’m fine, Killian.”
“You’re eating for two now.”
“He’s still very small.”
“You mean she’s still small?”
This has become a running argument. I am convinced we’re having a girl. Briar is equally sure the baby in her belly is a boy. Both of us will be happy no matter who’s right, but I confess to having a secret yearning for a daughter to coddle and spoil. I want to give her all the things I never had while growing up.
There are only so many things I can give to Briar, a woman who is happiest with the sun on her face and a chain made of flowers for her crown. With our needs cared for by the castle, I don’t need to provide anything, yet it’s ingrained in me that I should. I bring her books and artifacts I find while exploring the grounds. It’s hard to spoil her with anything but pleasure.
That, I lavish upon her at every opportunity.
I adjust my position on the comfortable padded chair we keep up here for evenings such as this one, and brush the underside of her bare breast. Briar’s ripe lips part in a sigh of contentment.
I tug her across my lap. The blanket falls, revealing both of our fully nude bodies to all the monsters who care to look their fill. The beasts are indifferent. As long as Briar is happy, they’re content to leave us alone.
Her teeth catch her lower lip. I trace the curve of her waist, reveling in the roundness of her belly and the fullness of her breasts. They were perfect before. Somehow, they’re even better now. I didn’t think it was possible.
“What are you thinking?”
She cups my face.
“I like your tits.”
Briar laughs.
“So predictable.”
“I told you I’m no poet, princess.”
“I like your way with words. You say what you think and mean what you say. There’s nothing wrong with that.” The fondness in her tone almost makes my heart explode. The fact that she means them sincerely gives me space to speak. I’ve done more talking with Briar these past months than with anyone else I’ve ever known.
She fists my cock, stroking it with a teasing smile
. I wedge my hands behind her knees and drag her closer until she’s close enough to sink down over me whenever she’s ready. Then, I give her glorious tits the attention they deserve. Rolling her firm, pillowy flesh. Squeezing with my callused palms. Dragging her close and sucking the rosy beads between my teeth.
Drowning in her encouraging little pants and moans.
“What are your thoughts on names?”
“For a girl?”
“For a boy,” she answers as I wrap both arms around her and feast on the column of her throat. Gods, her tits feel so good pressed against my chest. Hot enough to burn. Sweet enough to send all the blood in my body straight to my dick.
“Anything you want is fine.”
She squirms. “Really? You have no opinion on your son’s name?”
“Anything but Alistair.”
Briar snorts. “Agreed.”
I position my cock at her entrance and dig my fingers into her hips as she sinks down. She adjusts slowly, taking me inch by torturous inch, until my eyes roll back in my head and I see stars at the feel of her.
“Did you hear about his ball?”
“I don’t want to think about Alistair’s balls, sweetheart. Ever.”
She laughs outright and sets a slow rhythm, riding me at her own pace while I touch every part of her I can reach.
“I mean the gigantic party he’s hosting to find my replacement.”
“The man could have any woman in the kingdom. Pick one.”
“He can’t.” Briar’s tone turns secretive. Confiding. I fucking love it when she does this. Makes me feel like her best friend. “He doesn’t know what he wants. He keeps looking, but he’ll never find it until he decides what it is he’s searching for.”
“You.”
I pull her down into a kiss. I’ve felt the need to be gentler with her since we discovered she was expecting. Hardly a surpise, considering the way we’d been carrying on, but joyful nonetheless. I don’t want to hurt the baby, but I think she misses the way I acted with her in the beginning, for after a sweetly filthy kiss, she nips my lower lip.
“He can’t have me,” she whispers. “Only you can.”
“Briar?”
“Hm?”
“I don’t want to talk about Alistair anymore.”
She giggles and takes the hint, picking up the pace. I grip her upper arms for balance lest she topple off the chair—which happened once, early on, when we weren’t being very careful. This forces her back to arch so that her tits bounce in my face, just out of reach of my mouth.
Cruel princess, teasing me like this.
Briar clutches my hair and grinds down furiously, clamping around me. It’s incredible how much more sensitive her body is now that she’s pregnant. I can make her come so easily, and I do, as often as possible.
“One more, you little tease. Then I’ll take mine.”
I lift her off of my cock with a whimpered complaint and roll her to her side. I like taking her this way, from behind, so I can get to her clit. Briar obliges me, but she’s been a bit naughty today and so I first deliver a smart smack to her bottom. She squeals in delight.
“I told you I’d turn you over my knee one day.” I nip her earlobe.
“But I’m not over your knee,” she purrs breathlessly.
Two seconds of wrestling later, she’s face-down with her buttocks protruding upward and her hair falling in a tangle. I bring my palm down on her backside and she screeches with glee. I’m careful not to put pressure on her belly as I swat her creamy skin red.
“That better?” I turn her around and tenderly settle her back on the chaise, gliding into her with a groan. “Fuck, Briar, you’re so wet.”
“You could have done that a long time ago,” she murmurs, red-faced.
“I’ll do it every day if you want me to.”
“Mm.” She tips her hips to meet mine. “Special occasions. That does sting, but I like it.”
From there, it doesn’t take me long to find release. I breathe in her rose scented skin, feel her hair slither across my chest, and the second time she clenches around me I lose control. Couldn’t have stopped myself from coming if my life depended upon it.
Damp hair clings to her temples. I brush a kiss there, tasting salt.
“Have you seen the panel in the nave?” she asks, sitting up.
“No.”
“Come.”
She pulls on her dress and holds out one hand, wiggling her fingers. Reluctantly, I pull on my trousers and let her lead me down to the cathedral-like space where she laid in an enchanted slumber. I realize now why I don’t like that place. It reminds me of a crypt. I sometimes wonder what’s buried beneath Thorn Mountain, before deciding that I don’t want to know.
The boarded-up windows are open now, which helps to alleviate the suffocating atmosphere. Briar steps onto the dais and points at the final panel, which had been blank when Alistair and I found her.
No longer.
The last image is of us.
“Now I understand why it was blank,” she says, turning to me, her eyes shining with excitement, and takes my hand in both of hers. “My future was unwritten. We chose our fate, Killian. Together.”
“And we’ll keep fighting for it.” I draw her close, inhaling the scent of her sun-warmed hair, feeling my ironclad heart expand inside my chest. Blunt words, but true. “I love you, Briar.”
Her kiss is as soft as it is sweet.