Chapter 40
Lor
Ipaced back and forth in my bed chamber, Aoife’s voice echoing around me like she was right there next to me.
She moaned, gasped, her breathing hitching like it had after I’d kissed her in the library just moments before I’d come back to my room.
She was pleasuring herself, touching herself, and there was not a single doubt in my mind that she was thinking about me while doing it.
Fuuuuuck. My cock was hard, and I wanted to touch it, to stroke myself, but somehow that felt like an invasion. She had no idea I could hear her right now from my bed chamber. But I could.
I didn’t know why I could, but I suspected that somehow her little closet was right over my bed chamber.
This entire time, Aoife had been sleeping over me, and I hadn’t even known it.
Castle shifted rooms so often, created new spaces, disappeared old ones, that it was hard to keep an accurate layout of the castle.
I wanted to wrench this door open, race up the stairs, and finish what she’d started.
I couldn’t, though. I needed Aoife to make the first move.
I needed her to show me that she was ready, that she wanted me like I wanted her.
I needed to know that she was in this with me, not just as a partner or an occasional lover, but as my wife.
Because that was what I wanted. I’d seen a different side of Aoife these last few weeks; I understood her.
What’s more, I felt like she understood me too.
I wanted her to be my wife in every sense of the word, but if she didn’t want that, too, I couldn’t go all in.
I couldn’t touch her, kiss her, make love to her, unless I knew I’d get to do it forever.
“Lor,” she gasped, and I nearly fell to the floor hearing my name come from her lips like that.
If she’d said my name like that in the library earlier today, there was not a single thing that could’ve stopped me from ripping her clothes off and making her come.
I needed an ice cold bath. Something. Anything to relieve this torture. My cock ached with need, and I braced a hand against the wall of my bed chamber, inhaling and exhaling like my life depended upon it.
“Your Majesty.” I jumped and turned to see Margaret appear in the painting behind me. She wrinkled her nose and tilted her head. “What is that sound?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly as Aoife gasped again, and my cock twitched in response.
I wished I could be there to watch her part those lovely folds with her fingers, to learn how she touched herself and what made her gasp like that.
“Lor,” she said a second time in a breathy moan.
Margaret’s eyes widened. “Is that Her Majesty?” Her gaze dipped down to my trousers, and her hand went to her mouth. “Oh! Oh, am I interrupting something between the two of you?”
Godwitches be. “No.” I shoved a hand through my hair. “Margaret, can I help you?”
The painting kept eye contact with me, very careful not to let her gaze dip down. “You just missed another meeting today. This one with our farmers about our crop output?”
Fuck. I’d come back to my room to change and meet with the farmers when I’d heard Aoife and completely forgotten about it. “I’ll be there right away.”
“It’s okay,” Margaret said. “Fargus and Meera handled it. Fargus sent me to let you know he’d have all the notes from the meeting sent to your office in the morning.”
“Fargus and Meera handled it?” I asked slowly, and for the first time since I entered my room, I thought about something other than my wife pleasuring herself with my name on her lips. Instead, I thought about her words earlier.
How she’d told me I needed to lean on the community more, to let others handle things.
Wolfe had done the border inspection earlier without me, and I’d gotten word that it went well—no weak points or any sign of the brotherhood.
Now Fargus and Meera had handled a meeting with the farmers. Without me.
“Are you okay?” Margaret asked, gaze shifting back and forth. “You have a crease happening between your eyebrows.”
“I’m . . . good, I think,” I said as Aoife let out another loud moan.
Margaret opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She opened it again but shook her head, shiny black hair shifting with the movement. “No. It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t say anything.”
I eyed her as she bit her bottom lip.
“You can speak plainly, Margaret.”
“It’s just . . . why aren’t you up there with her right now? While she’s doing that? And you have that . . . situation happening.” She nudged her head toward my obvious erection, which I was trying to cover with my folded hands.
I cleared my throat. This was one of the most uncomfortable conversations I’d ever had. “Because if she wanted me up there, she’d invite me,” I said. “She’s scared, I think. Of being chained to anyone or anything.”
Margaret nodded knowingly. “But being married to you wouldn’t be a chain.”
“I know that,” I said, “but I don’t think she does. And I’m afraid if I move too quickly, I’ll scare her away.”
“So you do want her?” Margaret asked, excitement filling her voice. “You want to be with her? I knew it.” She clapped and squealed.
I held up a hand, looking toward the ceiling and hoping Aoife hadn’t heard. “Yes, I do, but I am not ready for her to know that, and that means you need to keep a secret.”
Margaret stopped squealing, expression sobering. “Oh. This is like a test. No one thinks I can keep a secret, but I can. I’m a good secret keeper.” She mimed closing her mouth and throwing away a key. “No one will hear of this, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you,” I said.
It was silent above, and that meant Aoife was done. Now maybe I could actually breathe.
“But, if I may, Your Majesty.” Margaret raised a finger. “You don’t have to woo her all by yourself. You do have a community of people rooting for you, people who want to see you and Her Majesty succeed.”
I huffed. “What am I supposed to do? Let everyone go on a date with us?”
Margaret frowned. “That would be very awkward. No, I was thinking more along the lines of bringing her to a family dinner. Let your family win her over for you. Let other people help you.”
Those words were surprisingly similar to what Aoife had just said this afternoon. She’d been right. Wolfe and our advisors had handled things perfectly. Maybe I could get help from my family.
“Aoife would never agree to a family dinner,” I said.
“Unless it’s on your calendar,” Margaret said, eyes widening meaningfully. “You both agreed to attend all each other’s events and meetings. Maybe this could be labeled as a meeting . . .”
Aoife might be angry if I tricked her, but then again, the trade off could be worth it.
My family would welcome her with open arms, and maybe we could do something special, something that would make Aoife feel welcome, comfortable.
And then, she might just be open enough to actually let my family woo her. To let me woo her.
“Margaret,” I said, “I’m going to need you to hunt down some Fair Folk recipes for me.”
“Why?” Margaret asked.
“Because we’re going to have a traditional Fair Folk dinner with my family.”