The Consort, Chapter 24
They didn’t speak, just walked with purpose. The ride up to the residential floor was silent but full of unspoken words as their hands twisted and turned in each other’s grasp, stroking and squeezing. It was a mere fifty yards to their suite from the lift and they covered it in haste, the guards opening the outer door for them, their steps not pausing across the sitting room into DG’s bedchamber, the door barely slammed shut before she was in his arms being kissed to within an inch of her life.
He pushed her up against the door and the back of her head hit with a low thud. “Ow,” she giggled.
He backed off. “Oh, damn…I’m sorry,” he said, putting one hand to her head. “You okay?”
“Get back here,” she growled, grabbing his shirt front and pulling him down to kiss him again, throwing ladylike restraint out the window and going at him just as ferociously as she had in her fantasies. He gave as good as he got, clenching a fist in her hair and pawing her roughly, their mouths opening to each other. DG slid her hands down his back and finally got two handfuls of the ass she’d so often appreciated from afar. It felt just as good as it looked.
Cain made a surprised grunt at the abrupt grab-hands. “Hmm,” he said. “Someone’s got a favorite body part.”
She chuckled. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to get my hands on it.”
“Well, help yourself,” he said, with a low, sexy laugh that went straight to her spinal column. He kissed her again, his own hands wandering down to her ass and up again, then around front to her breasts, significantly less encumbered than they’d been in her gown from earlier. He pressed himself close between her legs and she could feel him hard against her thigh.
DG gasped as another bolt of arousal slammed through her. She kicked off her shoes and unzipped her pants, shoving them down her legs, stepping out of them and pushing them aside with her foot. She fumbled at Cain’s belt buckle; he’d drawn back a little, his breath still hot on her face, watching her hands. “DG,” he began.
“Shh. I got it.”
“No, wait…” He put his hands over hers and looked in her eyes. “I thought…I mean, don’t you want to…uh, take it a bit slower? Take our time?”
DG was beyond subtlety. She grabbed his head and made him look at her. “Wyatt, we have the rest of our lives to take it slow. Right now you’re alive, I love you, and I need you inside me right the hell now, you got it?”
His eyes widened slightly and he just nodded, then reached out and pulled her tight to him again, his mouth crashing down onto hers. She growled a little deep in her throat and kissed back. Looks like he’s on board with the whole ‘right the hell now’ plan, she thought. His fingers hooked in the waistband of her panties and slid them off; she kicked them away and her hands returned to his belt buckle, this time succeeding in getting his pants and shorts down to his knees. She reached between them and seized his erection; he gasped into her mouth and grabbed her under the thighs, lifting her up. She took the hint and wrapped her legs around his hips, suddenly finding herself kissing him from above instead of below and liking it, feeling more in control, her arms tight around his shoulders. She felt him nudging at her and angled her hips toward him; he pressed his face into her neck, thrust forward and DG cried out as he buried himself in her with one stroke. She clutched at his shoulders, taken aback by the feeling that swept over her at their coupling, a bolt of pure pleasure and satisfaction shimmering up her spine, a sense of completion she’d never experienced.
He drew back and looked in her eyes, his own glowing with the moonlight coming in her windows, and she saw in his gaze that he felt it, too. She held his face in her hands, his dear, beloved face, and tried to tell him with her eyes what her words couldn’t convey: that his return had let her live again, that she would give him everything she was and would ever be without hesitating, because she trusted him with herself as she trusted no one else. He slid one hand up to her neck and stroked his thumb over her cheek, nodding, and she pulled him close again as they began to move together, up against the door of her bedroom, having barely made it two steps into it before they had to be at each other. DG moaned and rolled her pelvis as he thrust into her, her arms flying up over her head to grab the doorframe for leverage. Somehow he got her shirt open and bared her breast, his mouth now pulling at her nipple, his other arm holding her up and damn he was strong.
They’d both been so primed that it didn’t take long, Cain shuddering and groaning first to his climax and then finishing her off with one hand between her legs while he was still inside her. “Oh, god,” she gasped, sagging into his arms, her legs still wrapped around his waist. “Jesus, that was good.”
“Mmm,” he rumbled low in his chest, holding her close. “Think we can make it to the bed now?”
“Dunno. Carry me.”
He chuckled and backed away from the door, shuffling with odd little steps because his legs were still trapped in his pants. Somehow he managed to get across the room and set her on the bed, kneeling in front of her to remove her shirt the rest of the way. DG reached out to unbutton his shirt and push it back off his broad shoulders; he stayed still and watched her do this, raising his arms so she could pull off his undershirt. He lifted one of her feet, then the other to remove her stockings, leaving her nude. She scooted back and watched as he stood up to kick off his pants and socks, appreciating the view before he joined her in the bed. He stretched out at her side and DG came into his arms with a grateful sigh, relishing the feeling of his warm skin all around her, spinning out beneath the slow passion of his kisses.
Finally, after a long interlude of quiet necking, Cain rolled to his back, DG settled against his chest with a happy purr. “Did I shock you?” she said. “Such lewd behavior from a Queen.”
She felt the rumble of his quiet laughter beneath her cheek. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Take it slow, sure. I’ve been so keyed up all evening I don’t think I would have lasted if we’d tried to draw it out.”
“Hey, you were the one who kept giving me those sex looks over the dinner table.”
“Sex looks?”
“Oh, don’t act all innocent now.”
He pulled her up on his chest, cupping her face in his large hand. “You were giving me these so-called ‘sex looks’ back, you know. So you deserve what you get.”
She let him kiss her for a little while before pulling away. “Uh-huh,” she said, shaking her head. “My turn. You just lie there like a good boy.” She slid down a little, kissing his neck and then his chest, flicking her tongue over one nipple, then the other. She’d never been with him shirtless before; during their attempts to conceive (if one could even call that sex) he’d always kept a t-shirt on. His chest was firm and muscled and lightly furred with curly blond hair; she just wanted to rub her face in it. Hey, I can. He kneaded her neck and the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as she nuzzled his chest.
“Oh my god, DG,” he groaned as she slid further down and took him in her mouth. She’d never particularly enjoyed doing this, but somehow it was all different now and she found herself wanting to really go for it.
It’s different because you’re doing it because you love him and want to give him pleasure, not because you think you have to.
Whatever the reason, it was certainly working. He was at her mercy, groaning incoherently, his hands gripping the sheets at his sides. She looked up to find him staring down at her, eyes blazing, but just as she felt him tense up he grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up his body, finding her lips with his own. Damn, he’s a good kisser.
DG wasn’t done. She raised up to her knees and sank down on him, exhaling with the sensation of him filling her, stretching her, joining them together how they were meant to be. Cain grasped her hips, his head rolling on the pillow as she moved over him, slow and languid, his hands roaming all over her torso, sliding up her sides, fondling her breasts, up to her neck. “God, you’re…beautiful,” he whispered, like he couldn’t believe his good fortune that he was in bed with her.
She leaned forward, unable to go any longer without kissing him, their bodies writhing and bucking against each other, his arms wrapped around her now as they exchanged deep, slow kisses that melted one into the next. He braced his feet and began rising upwards into her, taking his time about it, each thrust spiking her arousal until suddenly she was there, lifting her head and letting loose with a cry of ecstasy, coming back to earth like a twirling maple seed and ducking her head back down to kiss him with abandon. He wrapped her up and rolled them over; she hooked one leg over his hip and watched his face as he stroked quickly inside her, faster, harder, her hands gripping his ass and feeling it clench beneath her fingers. A few more quick thrusts and he stiffened, her name on his lips for her to kiss away before he let out a huge breath and sagged into her arms. She wound herself around him like a climbing vine and kissed every bit of him she could reach, his shoulder, his neck, his ear; his back was damp with sweat and she could feel his heart pounding.
He started to withdraw but DG hung on. “No, no,” she whispered. “Don’t go. Don’t go yet.” He nodded, and relaxed into her embrace, his head next to hers on the pillow so he could look at her. He lifted a hand and stroked it down the side of her face, planting small kisses along her jawline, her brow, her nose, and finally her lips. Eventually he had to pull out, leaving her empty and already missing him; he tucked himself close to her side, one arm slung across her waist.
“You’re making me nervous, DG,” he murmured.
“Nervous? Why?”
He sighed. “Seems like it ought to be scandalous how much I want you.”
DG purred, sliding even closer to him. “I think I like the sound of that.” She kissed him. “It does feel like we’re being naughty somehow, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does. I don’t know why.”
“I feel like…like I’m cheating on my husband.”
He grinned. “I am your husband.”
“No, you’re not. My husband is an upstanding, stoic type. He’s very stiff-upper-lip, never lets his emotions get in the way of his good judgment. We have a very civil, cooperative relationship. We have polite, impersonal sex sometimes where we keep as many clothes on as possible. He’s the kind of guy who sees the lady home in the evening.”
“This husband of yours sounds really boring.”
“No, he’s lovely. He saved me. He’s my best friend in the whole world. I can’t imagine my life without him.” She hesitated, just watching him smile. “As for you, I feel like I just met you. You show me your heart where my husband would have hidden his. You drive me crazy just by looking at me across a room. You make me feel a lot of things I thought I’d given up on. And you’re damn good in bed,” she said, smirking at him and giggling as he flushed. She put her hand on his face and turned it back towards her. “I don’t know when it happened, but somehow you became everything ,” she whispered, starting to feel emotional again. “And I love you like crazy.”
Cain sighed, his eyes roving all over her face, and for the first time since she’d left Kansas, DG felt completely at peace.
Slumber was fast coming to them after their extremely hectic day and the aerobics that had come at its conclusion. They fell asleep holding each other, but when Cain blinked awake some hours later, DG had rolled away to her side and he was on his back. He just lay there, staring at her ceiling, going over the past few hours of his life with an ever-increasing sense of unreality. Many things seemed unsure right now, but happily his marriage didn’t seem to be one of them. He’d come back ready to declare himself to DG, unwilling to waste the second chance he’d been given regardless of how she took it or whether or not she returned his feelings. To hear her return them, and with such assurance, almost made the whole ordeal worth it.
He thought of Adora, sleeping in her lonely grave. He’d thought of having her moved, but to where? The site of their home felt blighted by Zero’s violence and his own imprisonment. He had no selected gravesite of his own, and would likely now be expected to be eventually interred in some royal mausoleum.
What would she think of me now?
He could rationalize it before. Just doing a favor for a friend, she’d understand that. I was called to a duty to serve the royal house, that’s completely understandable. But now? Now, it was different. Did she see him having intense, passionate sex with DG? Telling her he loved her, declaring himself as plainly as he ever had, stepping into his place as a true husband to her? Did she know that now, when Cain thought of the woman he loved, the face that rose in his mind was no longer hers? Would she scorn him, think him a lecherous old man panting after a woman seventeen years his junior?
He knew all the logical reasons why he had no cause for guilt, but such an emotion was not bound to logic.
DG stirred slightly at his side, a small, contented sigh escaping her. She made a few sleepy noises like a cat stretching; whatever she dreamt of, it sounded like she was enjoying it. He heard her suck in a breath as she woke, stiffness coming into her body. He watched the back of her head as she sighed, a shaky exhalation that got caught in her throat, turning it into a half-sob. “Hey,” he murmured, putting a hand on her shoulder. She jumped like she’d just been jabbed with an electric prod and flipped to her back, drawing away, her eyes wide.
“W…Wyatt?” she gasped.
“Are you okay?”
She blinked, looking around in confusion. “It…wasn’t a dream?”
Understanding flooded him. “No, it wasn’t a dream, kiddo.”
She put out a hand and touched his arm, like she was afraid he’d vanish in a puff of smoke. When he didn’t, her face creased into such an expression of joy that it hurt his heart to see it. She rolled into his arms, kissing whichever parts of him she encountered first.
“I had this dream and you were there and when I woke up just for a second I thought I dreamed all of it.” She propped herself up over him. “I dreamed you were alive a lot this past week. I guess I’m not used to it being true yet.” She shook her head. “God. Such a spaz I am.”
“Well, whatever that means, I’m sure you’re not.”
“Trust me, I am.” She smiled down at him. “Did I wake you up?”
“No. I was awake.”
“I thought you’d be dead to the world.” A mischievous little smirk appeared on her face. “Well…since you’re up,” she said, sliding back down against him and kissing his neck. “Be a shame to waste the time.”
“Mm,” he said, slipping his hand around her waist and down to cup her bottom. “That would be a shame.”
She wakes when he stirs against her. Spooned up together, her back to his chest, his arm around her waist. She glances at the bedside clock…almost four a.m.
Running her hand now lightly down his forearm where it rests on her stomach, ending with her fingers over his. He is awake, or at least partially so; his hand turning to grasp hers. Pulling his arm tighter around her, snuggling back against him, his hand moving over her skin then cupping her breast; his lips move on on her neck and shoulder, quiet footprints of warmth so soft, careful now in case she wants still to sleep; silly man, she wants him more, always wants him.
The silence makes each touch clandestine, unacknowledged, stolen caresses with no verbal agreement offered or given. She reaches back and slides her hand over the impossibly soft skin of his ass; he turns her to her back and buries his face in her chest, kissing and stroking her breasts, mouthing each nipple and closing his lips to suckle there before continuing down, leaving a trail of kisses on her stomach and belly button, slipping between her legs and hooking them over his shoulders. Gasping breaths, not letting herself vocalize the moan that rises in her at not only the feeling but the sight of his face between her legs, working her over with his mouth and tongue until she is quivering and powerless and then coming, hard and blinding, biting a pillow to keep quiet because that has somehow become important, and then he is up and over her and inside her, she tastes herself on his lips and she is cradled in the heaven of his strong arms as he takes her again, makes her his again as maybe she’d always been just like maybe he’d been hers from the start, whenever that start was, and oh God nothing has ever felt as good as him, inside her and all around her and she is coming again, clenching around him and feeling him spend into her body, those eyes of his looking down at her like she is the only thing in the world to him, the only real thing, the only true thing.
Coming back into themselves with slow kisses and gentle caresses, still so silent, hearing only the soft sounds of lips meeting, skin on skin, quiet breath and satisfied sighs, then turn to spoon together again, safe and secure and wrapped around each other and this is how sleep takes them again, words unnecessary.
He woke near dawn, wishing he could sleep more but knowing it wasn’t happening just now. DG was on her side facing him, her bare shoulder gleaming in the dim light. He let himself just watch her for a few moments, a smile creeping onto his face.
He slipped quietly out of bed, careful not to disturb her, and padded across to the door. It felt strange to be walking around in the buff, but he didn’t want to put his clothes back on. Relax, no one’s out there. He crossed the sitting room to his own bedroom, which he suspected he wouldn’t be seeing much of from here on out.
He showered, taking his time, the hot water seeping into his body, parts of which had seen action tonight after a long period of atrophy. He couldn’t help but smile.
Oh, you lucky bastard. How many men in this kingdom are envying you? At your age, to have a beautiful young wife who’s completely hot for you.
He’d been afraid, at first, that her emotional reaction to him had only been because of his death, but as the day had progressed he’d seen that wasn’t the case. There was no mistaking the love in her eyes now when she looked him, the relief to have him back, and her response to him when he made his own confessions.
And he wasn’t finished with those confessions. He had to figure out how to tell her the truth about the Order. Maybe not today, but soon.
When he returned, DG was sitting up in bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, looking out toward the morning sunlight. She turned her head and smiled at him as he entered. “Miss your bedroom?” she said, her tone teasing.
“What’s there to miss? No, I just took a shower.” He climbed back into bed and stretched out, DG’s hands guiding his head to her lap. He shut his eyes and just luxuriated in the softness of the bed and the gentleness of her touch as her fingers stroked his hair, her other arm lying across his chest. He raised one hand and stroked her forearm.
“I know you lied at the briefing,” she said, her quiet words falling like pebbles into a calm lake. Cain opened his eyes and looked up at her. She was still turned toward the window, her face relaxed. “You don’t have to say anything,” she went on. “I know you left something out. I also know you wouldn’t have if you didn’t have a good reason. I trust you. I hope that you’ll tell me the truth when you can. If you can’t, I won’t ask again.” She sighed. “I just thought you ought to know that.”