Chapter 19
Stirling
THE NIGHT OF THE WEDDING
We’ve been married for hours, but not yet a full day.
I’ve been waiting for a moment alone with my wife for what feels like a vampiric lifetime.
We were pulled from pillar to post all day.
Meeting guests, speeches, the dancing. And then after the attack, it was all security debriefings and councillors in uproar until everyone who wasn’t rational had been compelled to forget.
It’s finally past midnight, the throne room has been cleared up, the guests sent home and Daria has calmed her tits about security.
At last, it’s just me and my… wife. Gods, it feels good to say that.
We draw to a stop outside the throne room.
I sling an arm around Morrigan’s waist and grin at her. “The last time I found you here at this time of night, I remember a rather indecent evening.”
“Mmm,” she says, her words silky smooth. “I seem to remember you worshipping your queen, as you rightly should have.”
“Ahh, yes. I think I negotiated a rather wonderful reward from what I can remember.”
Her smile is playful and sexy as she pushes me against the throne room door, pinning me in place. She runs her hand through my hair, pausing at the back of my head and pulls me to her mouth.
Her lips cover mine, smothering me in kisses. Deep, wanton and needy, her tongue slides over mine.
She tastes like love and light. Like all the stars in the universe and a little like forever.
“Gods, I am so in love with you,” I whisper as she pulls her mouth off mine.
Her hand reaches behind me and unlocks the door. The throne room is so much quieter now it’s empty. Shrunk back to its normal size, too.
Sat on the dais are three lonely chairs. Three thrones.
“There’s three?” I ask as Morrigan shuts and locks the door behind us.
“Of course,” Morrigan says and slips her fingers through mine, guiding me towards the new throne.
“Whose is it?” But I already know the answer. She leads me across the room and up the dais staircase that only a few hours ago, we walked up single and down married.
Once we’re on the platform, Morrigan raises our joined hands and kisses mine. “You’re a royal now, Lady Grey…”
“Well. I… I guess?” Albeit only through marriage. But I suppose it counts? We were banished for so long, stripped of our magic for so many years that I’d rather stopped thinking of myself as a lady and instead saw us as one of the people.
I stare at the throne; this new one is different to the other two. Morrigan’s and Calandra’s are golden and jewelled in rubies, gems, crystals and ornate, intricate swirling filigree.
This chair is… “My gods,” I whisper as I really take it in.
It’s made of the same golden stone as the other two.
But instead of gems and crystals, a blue colour sweeps the back, licking up and curling into waves brushed with a white marble-like stone.
It’s as if the throne is made of a wave lifted from the ocean.
Carved into the back of the chair is a rather familiar sailing boat.
“Oh…” I say as I peer closer. The boat isn’t just a boat; it’s my boat. My eyes sting instantly. It’s stunning. Blue sapphires kiss the hull of the boat and disappear into darker-coloured navy gems.
I’m silent for so long that Morrigan slides her hand into mine. Her voice cracks, a tremble lining her words. “Is it… is it okay?” she asks.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I fall to my knees, just like I did last time. Ever ready to worship my queen on my new throne.
But Morrigan shakes her head. “Not this time. Tonight is all about you.”
“Oh,” I say again, incapable of much else. Seems I’ve been incapable of many words today, my eyes too obsessed with the sight of my new wife.
“Strip, Stirling,” Morrigan says, suddenly serious.
I tilt my head at her bossy tone, thoroughly enjoying the fact she’s taking charge. I raise an eyebrow, wondering what she’ll do if I disobey.
“Don’t test me,” she says as if in answer.
My lips purse into a cheeky grin as I unbuckle my trousers. I turn around showing her my back. “You’re going to have to help me out.”
She grabs the silky ribbons keeping my corset tight and tugs them, her fingers press and pull and yank until the corset is loose enough I can tug it over my head.
I’m topless, because who needs a bra in a corset? Morrigan’s fingers trail down my back making goosebumps rise over my flesh.
“Undo me,” she demands. Gods, I love it when she embraces her authority. I do exactly as she requests.
My hands glide over her corseted waist as I pull the silk ribbons keeping her in locked inside her dress. “Who tied you in here?” I whine. It’s fucking impossible to get her out.
Morrigan pulls a knife out of her waistband, “I figured you’d struggle,” she says and hands me the blade.
“You were just carrying that?”
“Well, after this evening, do you really blame me?”
I guess not. “Does it matter if I shred it?”
“Not if it means getting me out of this fucking thing, it weighs a tonne.” She wriggles in the dress, which is more like a sculpture than an outfit.
I tuck the blade between her back and the ribbons and slice. Morrigan lets out a relieved huff as the corseted top of her dress pings wide open. She wriggles and stretches, revealing the mottled impressions of corset bones pressed into her tattooed skin.
She steps out of the dress and hurls it out of the way, leaving her in black lace underwear. I swallow hard. My mouth waters almost as much as my pussy.
Morrigan’s fingers caress my skin, her tips padding over my chest and flicking over my nipples.
“Do you remember what happened last time we were here?” she says.
I inhale in anticipation as I recall that night. “You were sat on the throne, I was at your feet, and I worshipped my queen.”
She nods. “Underwear. Now.”
I dutifully obey, slipping my undies off and glancing back at the throne room door as if staring from this distance will confirm it’s locked.
Morrigan swings me around and shoves me. The backs of my knees hit my new throne, and I drop into the seat.
“Magnificent,” she says and then my glorious queen kneels beneath me.
“Morrigan,” I gasp.
But she’s too busy mauling her way up my calves, nipping and kissing in equal amounts. Her fingers dig into my thighs as she wraps them around my hamstrings and tugs me to the edge of the chair.
“Spread,” she demands.
Her voice is commanding. It makes my body melt, my mind compliant.
She raises herself onto her knees, pushing between my legs and leans up to kiss me.
I reach around and drag my nails down her back.
Her nipples and those silver bars react, tightening into peaks.
As her tongue pushes into my mouth, my thumb brushes over her breasts.
She moans into my mouth and slips her hand from my legs to my core, drawing two fingers down my centre.
I whimper. “My queen.”
“My wife,” she replies.
Her fingers circle my clit, over and over, until my thighs burn, my own nipples tighten, and I am gasping against her kiss.
“So wet for me,” she says and places a single kiss against my lips. Her fingers push inside me. My head rolls back as I cry out her name.
“Fuck, Morrigan.” It’s all I can say as she drives inside me over and over. Her free hand pushes me until I rest against the back of the chair. She nestles between my legs, her tongue finding my clit and drawing over my throbbing apex.
“Oh gods,” I pant. My hips buck against her mouth as I grind against her. I open my eyes and stare at the sight of my wife between my legs. Her eyes lock onto mine while her tongue laps at my pussy, her breasts rocking with the movement of her fingers inside me.
It’s enough to make me come undone. But Morrigan slows, she’s clearly not done, intending to prolong my pleasure.
She licks hard and then soft, drawing her hot, wet mouth over my cunt until I’m bucking and screaming out, desperate for her to make me come.
As my walls clench against her fingers, she stops thrusting. My eyes widen, I was right there.
“What the…?” I say, ready to whine.
But she reaches beneath the throne and pulls out something that was taped to the underside of the seat. It’s long and thick.
“Oh,” I say. “Oh, I see.”
She slots her legs into the straps, pulls the dildo into place and tugs me off the throne. She’s careful to hold on to me as my legs shake from the pressure of an almost-orgasm. She swaps places to sit on the chair and tugs me over her lap, positioning me right over the head of the dildo.
“I think you need to break in your throne.” She grins, grabs my thighs and presses me down onto her lap, spearing me with the cock.
I moan as it thrusts up into me. Morrigan grips my hips and forces me to ride her.
“Fuck,” I whimper as I slide my arse up and down, up and down. She supports me with one hand and then slips her other hand between us to rub my clit.
“I may have always been your queen, but now you are mine.”
“Oh gods,” I rock my hips against her lap, grinding harder and harder as her fingers move quicker. Her lips find my nipples, licking and sucking until my body shivers with pleasure.
“My queen,” she breathes against my breasts. She flicks her fingers against my pussy, driving me closer, my body vibrating higher and higher. I’m panting, a line of sweat trickles down my spine as my thighs burn against the rhythm of riding her.
“Come for me, Stirling,” she says and sucks my nipple into her mouth, grazing her teeth over my peaked flesh.
At her words, I spill over the edge, my eyes roll shut and my body breaks apart. I cry out her name as my pussy clenches around the dildo. I rock once, twice, three times more before collapsing on her.
We stay twined together, kissing and adoring each other until the dawn birds sing outside the palace windows.
I make Morrigan fall apart with my tongue, and she pins me to the dais floor, riding my face the same way I rode her lap. She fucks me against the stairs, then on the floor. I worship her on her own throne, repeating the actions of that night all those months ago.
Over and over, we make each other come. Each time whispering secrets and confessions, adorations and soft words of worship.
It is everything a wedding night should be and so much more.
Finally, when the first sounds of the palace waking up drift in from the corridors, we haphazardly dress and make our way to her rooms. There isn’t much time: our carriage leaves early this morning.
We have two weeks of meet-and-greets and royal events around the city before we can honeymoon.
Calandra has us on a relentless schedule before letting us ‘swan off’ as she put it.
* * *
The team waits for us in the palace foyer, Scarlett beaming with pride as she looks at me. “Can’t believe my younger sister made it down the aisle before I did.”
“Yeh, neither can I,” Quinn says, shoving her out the way and pulling me into a hug. “I hope you have the most amazing honeymoon.”
“Where is it you’re going again?” Remy asks as Bella appears behind her.
“We’ve got two weeks of duties to do first. We’ll head back here for a goodbye dinner and then we’ll start out in Nefari City, before heading to the fae isles.”
“Nefari?” Bella’s eyebrows nearly climb off her forehead.
“You know it?” I ask.
“Yeh, sort of. Why would you go there? I heard it’s full of the worst kind of people,” she says.
I nod. “But the worst kind of people make the best kind of magic. I’ve got a very old, very powerful grimoire to negotiate for. It’s my wedding present.”
“You can’t call it a wedding present if you haven’t actually got it,” Quinn says, her face scrunched.
“Have you ever known me to lose a negotiation?” I fold my arms and stare at her.
She opens her mouth but doesn’t find anything to say.
“I thought not.”
Remy puts her fist out for me to bump. “Be good, kids,” she says in the most un-Remy like slang. Maybe Bella banged some of the stuffy professor out of her.
“When you’re back, I want to tell you all about this new runic—”
“Let me stop you there, Rem, why don’t you tell Bella, hmm?”
Remy eye rolls at me. “One of these days you’re going to need my skills.”
“For now, I just need your friendship.”
She smiles at me and pulls me in for a proper hug. Morrigan and I give each of the girls a hug in turn and then head out to the carriage.
Queen Calandra gives us both hurried goodbyes and then Penelope joins so I give her and Morrigan a minute. But even as we’re settled in our seats, Morrigan curled under my arm, I can still hear Penelope shrieking at us as the carriage rides off.
“You think she’ll go?” I ask.
“Did you see the way she looked at Dahlia? Of course she will,” Morrigan sighs and rests her head against my chest.
“The real question is, can you get the grimoire? Bella is right, you know. That city isn’t a great place. It’s run by the mafia.”
“Did you forget who you married?”
“I’m just saying.”
“And I’m just saying I can negotiate for anything. I won your heart, didn’t I?”
She jabs me in the ribs.
“No more relationship deals, remember? You made your last one with me.”
“I did.” I nod in confirmation. “Besides, I have something much better now…”
“Oh?” She sits up to look at me.
I grin my most charming smile, the one reserved just for Morrigan.
“A promise.”
She frowns.
“A promise to love. And be loved. Today, tomorrow, next week, next year. To love you until I’m nothing but ashes and sand.”
And when I say the last line, she says it with me. “Until our souls find each other again where blue meets blue.”