“This feels like it would be loads of fun,” the ruler licked her lips, clenching my manhood with a sharp squeeze that made me tense single muscle in my being.
The queen grinned in satisfaction. “You are lucky I have plans for the night, but I will send for you soon,” she promised, her tongue licking her lips and then heading towards my face, where she planted it on my cheek and licked her way up to my lips. I did my best to keep them shut, but I felt her saliva lingering over my mouth.
Without another word, she signalled her guards, who started walking and guiding her, leaving me on my own in the corridor. Running is a poor word for what I did next, my legs sprinting so quickly I thought they might fall off my body, only stopping when I reached the door that I hoped led me to Anwen.
I opened it abruptly and ran inside, closing it with a sharp thump and allowing myself to fall against it, drawing breath for the first time in minutes.
“Ansgar!” Anwen rushed to me from the bedroom, skittering around the sofa and allowing herself to fall on the floor, on her knees, right in front of me. Her arms wrapped around my body and she splayed herself on my chest, grabbing as much of me as she could reach.
“Anwen,” I sighed and hugged her tightly, enjoying the feel of her against my skin. “Anwen,” I said again, shivers running through me, her smell filling my nostrils and hair tickling my jaw.
“I’m sorry. Nothing happened, I swear,” she explained with muffled words because I hugged her so tightly her breath stopped on my shoulder. I was decided to never let her go ever again, whatever may come. “He brought me a phone so I can talk to my family, that’s why I was happy,” she continued to explain and I swore at myself for my idiocy. Of course she had a perfectly good reason and at that moment, I felt gratitude towards Fear Gorta for offering that dash of happiness to my mate.
“I am sorry too, fahrenor, I don’t know what possessed me to think ill of you,” I tried to excuse myself, knowing perfectly well I shouldn’t have had a doubt. Anwen squeezed me tighter, nestling her head onto my shoulder, basking in my scent just like I did with her. We remained like that, hugging on the floor, reconnecting with each other for a long while, recuperating that missing part the other had become.
“What happened here?” I felt Anwen suddenly tensing, her hand travelling to my clavicle and then upwards on my neck.
“Where?” I asked, half-drunk from her presence, continuing to place small kisses on her arm.
“On your neck, it looks like a... bite mark.”
That was enough to wake me up. “The Queen,” I responded honestly but as soon as the words escaped my mouth I realised I could have uttered them with better preparation because Anwen jumped up as if electrified, her face red with ire.
“Excuse me?” she accused, her hands adopting a threatening pose on her hips. “The Queenbityou?” She turned her face slightly, displaying only part of it to me and moving her head in such a way that her ear took priority in my field of vision like she wanted to make sure my words will travel straight there, with no interruption.
“We met in the corridor and she stopped me.” I didn’t say more, afraid that our reconciliation would abruptly end but my mate looked possessed, her entire face crimson, fiery wrath overpowering her gaze.
“Tell me exactly, frame by frame, what happened,” she commanded, scanning me from head to toe, awaiting an explanation.
I frowned and took a moment, unable to think the events through and how to better portray what happened, but Anwen’s words pierced my chest, making it impossible for me to contain a proud grin.
“Ansgar, tell me exactly what that bitch did to you!” her fingers wrapped in fists as if she prepared herself to go outside and challenge the queen to a fight over territory. Anwen was jealous, I realised with pleasing joy. My mate was jealous because another female had touched me. Marked me.
I took the moment to rise from the floor, situating myself against the door, just in case. “I’ll tell you, but I want something in return,” I replied, the grin now permanent on my face.
“What?” she answered angrily.
“A kiss,” I smirked, enjoying this state of her. Was this the most adequate situation to take advantage? Probably not. Did I feel like a jerk? A bit. But was I enjoying the possessiveness my mate felt over me? Definitely.
Anwen huffed, but her shoulders immediately relaxed, her body taking the step that separated us and allowed herself to rest against me, hands cupping my face with affection.
“Are you okay?” she asked, worry in her expression.
“I am now,” I smiled and placed my lips on hers, a gesture I dreamt of doing for the past week. Every time I watched her sleep alone, every time I heard news of her or spotted her in the corridors, surrounded by soldiers and maids, every single morning when I wanted nothing more but to throw myself in that bed and wrap her in my arms.
The kiss only lasted a few seconds, Anwen too concerned with the answer. “Tell me,” she demanded, so I listened and confessed.
“I was coming back to you but missed a turn and found her in a nightgown, surrounded by soldiers. She touched me and bit my neck, then left.” I didn’t feel the need to add the queen’s desire to add me to her damned energy-eating schedule.
“I will kill that bitch when I see her,” Anwen repeated the insult to my wicked delight. “No one touches my man!” she uttered with conviction.
“No one?” I prodded playfully at the spectacular décolletage the dress she was wearing created around her breasts.
“No one but me,” she allowed herself to smile.
“Show me,” I barely murmured, “show me how you touch your man.” I swallowed hard with anticipation and she must have heard it because a lustful gaze replaced the wrath in her eyes. And she did just that.
Her hands tugged onto me, pulling up the borrowed shirt with eagerness to reach my skin and when she did, her palms splayed on my chest, caressing my pecs. I breathed hard, accustoming myself yet again with the feeling of her, a sensation that pierced so differently from the Queen’s old and abrupt hands.
