DARK ONE SHOTS | 18+ - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

It was a month's journey back to Alcazar; her new home.
She didn't feel any less than comfortable on the journey. Dozens of maids scurried around her like ants around a drop of sugarcane extract, too enthusiastic to look up to her needs. She didn't have to say a word before she had it at her feet. It was unbelievable how the transformation from a princess to the queen worked.
"The Queen of Alcazar" she had heard the bellowing outside the palace just after they had completed marriage ceremonies. The clueless citizens of Quodor had their chest filled with pride, their princess marrying the most powerful king in the world served a purpose for them too afterall.
And Francesca had smiled for them, standing by her husband's side like a good wife. He had publicly held her hand, his thumb gently moving over the back of her hand, she wouldn't know whether it was in caress or threat.
She preferred assuming that it was in warning, that her days of denial were numbering, that in the game of dominance, he had won effortlessly.
On every night along the journey, camps would be built, campfires would be settled, the aroma of backwoods food would enlighten the warmth. It would be the only time of the day she'd see him, chuckling amongst his men, training and conversing. Entire day he would be leading the troop on the horse, focused and alert to ensure correct route and preparation. However night would bring him the present of finally seeing his wife. God forbid he had waited for the day he'd bring her to his home for years. And now that she was with him, everything seemed complete, his heart, his ambitions, his very reason of existence.
She'd ignore him most of the time, pretending to look busy with a chore she didn't have. He did not take offense in her hostile stance, not only had he anticipated it, but it served his own purpose in a way. Had it been for the Francesca his Edrick knew, she would have climbed on his body, sticking by his side like a bee on honey. And then, he wouldn't have been able to keep his hands to himself, not when there were no barriers between them, something that he was thankful didn't happen now. It wasn't that she was freed from the sexual obligation towards her husband, but rather put under the sword of it, supposed to be released the moment they reached Alcazar.
Their eyes would still meet in the sacred moments and his lewd gaze would warm her stomach in all the wrong ways, as if for a second, the world would stop, the breaths would slow. And she'd break the eye contact before she could see him licking his lips.
On every one or another moment he would be reminded of the first time they had met, when she swam alluringly in the river, and he dived in, just to have a closer look at the most magnificent woman he had ever laid eyes on. Never had he imagined marrying the woman of his dreams, and yet here he was.
The night had its voice, she had noticed it so rarely owing to her minimalistic contact with the outer world, but with the encampment in the jungles now, she relished it every night. The seize-less chirping of the crickets, the clatters and hisses of the breeze through leaves and the enormous silence of stars. It was the kind of lullaby she had become used to before sleeping. Like a ritual, she turned the last lantern inside her lavish camp off, tucking herself to sleep, turning on her side so she could glimpse out at the starry sky. And to the music of her environment, slowly her eyes closed, looking forward to another day of sitting endlessly in carriage.
She didn't hear his footsteps, nor did she hear when he welcomed himself inside the sheets, crawling closer to her. Only when she felt soft brushes of his rough skin on her arm, did her eyes opened in dread. Considering that this had happened every single night, she should have gotten used to sleeping in his arms, but she had not. She hoped like every other day, he would stop the distracting caress before drowning in slumber too, but as minutes passed, she realised he had different plans.
Her heartbeats skyrocketed when she felt him nuzzling in her hair, taking a sharp breath before pushing them aside, peppering soft kisses on her neck. She flinched when his hand rested on her waist with an intention to hold her in place, something that she knew could never happen.
He witnessed as she scooched further to the end of mattress, making distance with him, her ragged breath audible in the tense silence.
He smirked, finding the quirks of his little wife even more adorable.
"I do realise your frustration" she heard him saying, his voice portraying a bit of amusement. She did not reply, nor did she feel the need to entertain his tactics, she was not going to fall for them. However when he too crippled closer again, her throat tightened, her hands sweaty wondering what was wrong with him tonight.
"You must be wondering why I haven't consummated our marriage yet"
It was astonishing how quickly fear overtook the lingering drowsiness. Although none of them had discussed the matter, he had made precise assumption, she had indeed bitten her nails ruminating about their wedding night.
On the first night in the camp, her body had shaken in the anticipation, wondering what awaited. But he had all but made himself comfortable on the mattress, pulling her in his arms, not as much as touching her wrong before falling asleep as if it wasn't their wedding night. He had never addressed the reason of his rather strange behavior until tonight. She had a pressing feeling that she wasn't going to like being curious in this matter.
Regardless, her ears piqued in interest, the sheets covering her body visibly heaving with her hard breaths.
He didn't speak until she was in his arms again, his hand resting on her waist, his head supported with bent arm so he could peek upon her shaken features in the dark.
"There are too many ears here. I'd rather have you in my chamber where no one can hear you moan" His dark voice had a direct consequence on the resting butterflies in the pit of her stomach, they fluttered aggressively inside her, creating a strange blend of fear and anticipation.
She stopped breathing when his nose came back again with his lips, pecking her ear, softly whispering, "I know how much you like to scream my name"
She whimpered when he pulled her closer in a sudden jerk, intensely meeting his back, his hot voice bathing her in heat.
"I would be foolish to ravish you in an uncomfortable setting like this wouldn't I? It'd be a shame if my men heard your screams, exclusively meant for me"
Her breaths answered with their evenness, her questions were answered and her anxieties were summoned.
She didn't find sleep that night,
she couldn't.
Alcazar lived up to its name. After stripping wealthy kingdoms one after another, Alcazar stood like a beautiful grave over their misery. For the eyes that didn't care to see, it was a true definition of heaven, with economy flourishing, agriculture blooming and businesses spreading.
However her gaze swept from the window of her carriage on the shadows of the slaves that moved noiselessly on the grounds, afraid to even make the noise. She knew her new home was built upon the blood and flesh of others, and she intend to change it. It would take time she knew, but if she had her husband enough under her influence, nothing was impossible.
Her powerful thoughts however crumbled like molten metal in his vicinity. No matter for how long she knew him with his heart and soul, she didn't know how was she supposed to act in front of the suddenly emerged king out of her Edrick. Even when she wasn't expected to, she felt submissive, shy, gentle and what not.
And those foreign feelings only heightened when the chambers of his residence were opened for her. Her welcome nothing less than a celebration in Alcazar. Not only because King had ensured her entry was pursued as a festival, but the public seemed to be on their toes to see her, bless her, understand her like they had their king. With practice she had handled them, hiding the fact that deep down she was more distracted than any insane animal, her heart jumping out of her heart every time he looked her way, watching her with pride, and if she wasn't mistaken, suppressed lust.
She looked around the vast room, finding the decoration a bit too exaggerating for something as simple as first night after marriage. Rose petals were spread across the large bed, scented candles burnt in every corner of the room. And to top it all off, maids had rushed her inside the heavenly bathroom under the title of 'brushing her exhaustion'.
She had found it repulsing that six of the maids had had to bath her with spectrum of oils and soaps, sandalwood being at the central of them. She remembered how fascinated he used to be when she smelt like sandalwood. It was no wonder that he had deliberately planned every step, hoping to attain the perfection of their 'true' wedding night. The thought only made her more anxious, her leg twitching compulsively. She didn't remember the last time she had breathed normally without her heart thudding against her chest, building a scarier version of what could happen.
She was even more terrified when she was dressed in a simple yet titillating gown. Her hair were dried and styled in a simple bun. Her long locks which usually reached below her waist now locked behind her head. But maids weren't too naïve to knot all the hair back, they had allowed few strands to stray here and there, adding into her lustrous look. They didn't had to take much efforts, realising that she would be the most beautiful woman in Alcazar even without anyone's assistance.
They had admitted that there was a reason why their king had developed an eye for her. She indeed was a sight behold, truly worthy of holding the rank beside him. And even when Francesca wanted that to be the last compliment to exist, she had thanked them.
The chamber was vacated after sun had only began to set, leaving the bride alone to wait for her husband. The dinner was already set inside the chamber despite the fact that servants had shoved food inside her stomach.
After considerable amount of stressing herself, she had found salvation in striding across the room, exploring the nuances of paintings she hadn't noticed before.
And just then the heavy doors to the king's chambers opened, closing themselves after his highness returned, finding his bride by the painting he knew she would admire.
Her breath immediately shuddered in his presence, her throat tightening so that the details of her neck made themselves visible. He had wrapped the important matters in time, eager to meet his bride that he was sure would be waiting till the sun set behind the mountains, opening space for the erotic moon.
He paced slowly towards her, watching as she looked down at her feet, the tainted colour of her cheek speaking of the unspoken words.
"My lord, I...It's only my first day in Alca-"
"I know" his voice echoed inside the silent chamber, already sensing her resistance, "You need more time don't you?"
When she took a step back, he took one forward.
"Why?" He asked, unsurprised.
She took a deep breath, hesitant of her own dilemma, "I...I don'...don't know you"
"Do you realise how foolish that sounds on your tongue?"
"But it is true is it not?"
"That you don't know me? Francesca, if there's anyone who has ever known me it's you. Only because I told you my name was something else does not mean your existence seizes to rustle in my blood like an addiction"
He was getting irritated, and she knew it. But as it didn't come as a surprise to Antoninus, that nothing could stop Francesca from pressing his nerves. He could be the king to entire world, and yet would helplessly return to the little woman who would experiment with his patience endlessly.
"You think both of you are alike? What delirium are you in? Forgive me my lord, but you cannot expect of me to behave as if nothing has changed. That you disguised as a different man and used me as if-"
"Dare you poison this chamber with your allegations again" he strode in lividity, grasping her neck before pushing her against the wall next to he painting, breathing in her personal space. Her mouth sealed when his opened, tears of infuriation accumulated in her orbs, watching as his nose flared, his gaze burnt.
"I have never used you, I wanted you because I wanted you"
Her gaze flickered between his eyes, finding the truth he had never spoken about before, his hold on her neck unintentionally tightening.
"Not because you were Princess, not because I saw potential in trapping you. Your love if anything had only caused me a loss of assured victory. It's Quodor's pure fortune that they had a princess to trade instead of their miserable lives"
She heard venom in his voice, as if if he wanted to, he could have easily won Quodor. But since his treacherous eyes had fallen upon her, he had to satiate his thirst of power with mere alliance and nothing more.
"I don't care where you were born. If I would have found you as a farmer's spoilt brat, I'd have slumped you on my shoulder and made you queen of Alcazar. Your rank reigns only in your head Francesca, to me, you are only the woman my heart wants, nothing more, never less."
The revelation made her think, the open admission of his feelings made her emotional and yet the princess side of her piqued out in distress, wondering whether he still had an eye for her home.
"Now that you have me, why are you sparing Quodor?"
His gaze fell upon her luscious lips, taking a moment before opening his mouth, ravishing their previously unnoticed closeness.
"Because I care about your feelings"
"What about the knowledge you have accumulated about Quodor for years?"
"It's irrelevant now" he spoke honestly, knowing that he had wasted his time for virtually nothing. But yet, if he could go back in time, he would do it all over again, the best part of his exploration being nothing else but her.
She couldn't speak, bewildered by the truth.
"Is the questionnaire concluded my lady?" his hand went behind her head, pulling the stick holding her bun together, releasing her wild locks out of their restraints.
"I still cannot forgive you" she managed to speak, realising that despite the entire truth, he was still a liar, a traitor.
She gasped when her legs were wrapped around his torso, her hands inadvertently holding his shoulders for support, their height difference for once, diminished.
"It's wonderful then that I didn't apologise"
Before she could understand his words, his lips softly landed on her mouth, gently intertwining with her lips. She didn't respond at her first, taking the kisses as he served them, as gently as he had done before, asking for permission. And when her mouth opened, foreseeing it as the window of hope, his tongue entered her mouth, tasting her sweetness, making sinful noise with the act.
Her legs tightened around him when she felt an ooze of wetness gathering in between her legs, a sign that did not go unnoticed by his sharp senses.
She found herself thrown on the bed, finding his weight heavily descending upon her in hunger, his gentle ways slowly superseded by his rough desires, his suppressed lust finally making up for the excruciating wait.
His mouth left the comfort of her lips to savour the flavour of her neck, kissing, nibbling. And when his thirst heightened, he gently bit on the sensitive flesh, making it impossible for her to hold the moan back, tightly closing her eyes while moving her fingers through his dark hair.
Her morality returned when he retracted, pulling the gown down by its shoulder, about to expose her breast when she hastily stopped his movements, holding the fabric on her skin as if her life depended on it.
His gaze returned to her eyes, wondering what excuse she had this time, only to realise her excuses had not changed.
"Blow the candles" he heard her whispering through her ragged breath, utterly diffident of her nakedness.
"No" he whispered back, witnessing the glimpse of shock sliding back in her eyes, "You don't get to hide from me now"
And with that, the fabric was pulled down, her miserable hold loosening. She remembered his promise as if he had made it yesterday.
When you will be my queen, I will relish you by my rules.
Her head turned to the side in shame when his mouth latched on her breast, sucking on the little pebble. An incomprehensible voice of formed inside her throat, but it only came out when her other breast was pulled out of its constraints too, treated with the same delectations. While he worshipped one of her mounds, the other would be held by his hand, squeezed while pleasured by the flicking of his thumb.
Once in a while he would turn to look in her eyes, finding her embarrassment most adorable, the moan of shame wanting. She would bite her nails while he would work on her supple possessions, keeping her gaze away from the erotic sight to forget that he had truly seen her now.
Her building trepidation met the sky when the trail of his kisses moved downwards, her legs inadvertently closing tightly. The shy move received an equally rough pull on her legs and her heart almost jumped out of her throat when cold air hit her exposed sensitive flesh, gravely realising that she was given nothing to cover her intimacy.
His fingers dug into her inner thighs to keep them open while her nails got severely chewed by her teeth. She couldn't see him but she knew he was watching her pussy, his sharp breath way too closer. Her gaze watched the candle next to bed with fervour, it were these situations when she hated light. And she vividly remembered telling him that. It was a debate of another night that he hadn't respected her opinion, considering his desires of her seeing her wholly more crucial than her mere shyness.
Her seemingly endless eye contest with the flame broke when she jerked out of her lying position, having felt a slippery flesh skimming across her folds. Just as swiftly she was pushed down on bed, forced to experience the unfathomable gush of pleasure brought by the moving tongue of her pussy. He heard her screaming when he gently opened her folds, noticing the little nub that he knew did most magic, sharply flicking it with his tongue.
She didn't know what was happening, only that she couldn't close her legs nor could she control the speed at which she received immeasurable sensations. His lips all at once as if attacked the flesh, unable to hold back the restraints of reluctance, slurping on her slickness as she groaned in strange bliss, slowly fisting the sheet instead of biting her nails.
Her hand found its way, intertwining in his hair as his mouth remained latched on her pussy, nibbling and kissing. As it happened all of a sudden, he suddenly hovered over her body, roughly pinning her hand on the side of her body.
"Did I ask for your assistance?"
She watched flabbergasted as his course voice hit her senses, his dark eyes hungry and yet furious. Her flustered state stripped her out of words. She only shook her head innocently, feeling the slight throb in her pussy developing now that he had left its vicinity without warning.
"Hands above your head"
He physically guided her wrists, pinning them above her head with his wrist, watching her as if she wasn't his lover, but a possession, a possession that must pay close attention to his requirements. She couldn't deny that a sacred feminine part of her body fluttered when he told her what to do, knowing that outside the precinct of this bed, she would make him apologise for things that didn't deserve sorries.
His head returned in between her legs, this time with more determination, adamant on bringing her closer to her climax, purposefully not bringing her way too closer.
In a short moment she witnessed his lips twinkling with her juices, as he slowly wiped the slickness with his thumb, not with disgust but rather seduction. Her heartbeat rose when he stood to his height, getting off the bed to get a good view of his naked wife. Unsurprisingly she immediately closed her legs, letting the slickness create a discomfort in between her legs, pulling her hands above her breasts, doing a poor job at fully covering them considering their suppleness.
He wanted to seethe at her, to remind her where her hands were supposed to be but as it soon downed on him, it might as well be her last attempt of covering herself. Once she realised what height could he carry her to, and what stars he could show, she would be little too willing to pull him into bed. But until that day arrived, she could try hiding herself.
She watched him undress, and if she had thought he was strong, she now understood how. He was hewed out of God, no sinful emblems engulfed his features except for the ugly scars healed, the reminders of battles he had fought, the battles he had obviously won.
She didn't know by the end of the night, and several nights for years that would follow, she would inflict some scars too, by embedding her nails in the flesh of his back when he would bury himself inside her, and she would scream his name. They would be the only scars he would enjoy getting, that would add into his pride, probably more joyfully than others.
Her hair unfurled on the bed, creating an illusion of spilled dark blood when he pulled her closer, hovering over.
Her eyes tightly closed when she felt his manhood stroking her pussy, evoking a gentle beginning to rough act. Her hands tightened on his shoulder, getting ready for the undeniable before he stopped, gripping her face by her cheeks by a single hold, grabbing her attention.
"Open your eyes."
She did, reluctantly, finding his eyes on her.
She felt him entering, slowly, hand in hand with pain. But as she hissed in the sensation, his lips landed on hers, distracting her attention from the undeniable throb.
And in no time, there was pace, breaths and sweat and eyes, focused on each other.
No words. Only voices.
She wasn't turned on her stomach for better access, neither was she allowed to flip on her side. He wanted to watch her when he entered her, and moved out of her, and rammed inside her.
She had thought of the bed to be too vast for two people, but with proceeding night she understood, no space was enough. She had occupied the entirety, hoping to crawl across it to escape the man even for a moment, but as it happened so, he would pull her legs under him before she could reach the edge, starting what was halted.
She remained spread across it, and he moved inside her, pinning her hands above her head so she wouldn't attempt her chance at assisting again.
She had also thought of Edrick to be a gentleman, no matter what king he had birthed overnight. Her opinion as it formed that night, he was not, in any given universe, without an exception of his wife, he was not a gentleman.
He sought pleasure from tying her hands to bed, holding her neck while pounding inside her, and making her watch in the mirror on the wall nearby as he did it. He was adamant on seeing her when he ravished her, the way her mouth moved when she screamed, the way her eyes closed when she orgasmed and the way she pleaded without words.
She had not only lost her virginity, she had lost her Edrick, the gentle lover across the lake of ghosts. But she had rather acquired a king, powerful one. It was astonishing that she did not complain, only hoped for a little more mercy if not little more energy to match his.
At some point in the night she had heard him whispering "I love you" in her ear, her body only recovering from the latest high. And a trail of kisses had followed with 'so much'
She hadn't responded.
But he knew she would. He would spoil her with love, so much that she'd crush under it. He didn't know when, and how, but she would one day, out of pity or sincerity, hopelessness or perhaps, love.