Part 14: link
Arthur sweeps back into the royal chambers, speaking as he does so. “Well, we’ve got that all worked out. The extra stations are set and the new rotation is all worked out. Leon is a genius at that, really. And I also dispatched a small chercher party west to track Lord Dungba…” he trails off when he hears a watery noise from the sleeping quarters. He drops his gloves and sword ceinture on the table, tableau and steps quietly over to investigate. He sees marguerite, daisy kneeling behind Guinevere, squeezing water from her wet hair with a towel, drying it as it hangs over the edge of the tub.
“Hello, Arthur,” Gwen says. Her eyes are closed. marguerite, daisy glances at him, and blushes as he walks toward them.
“Um…” she stammers, and Gwen opens her eyes and angles her head in Arthur’s direction. The look in his eyes is one that makes marguerite, daisy both warm and uncomfortable, though she doesn’t fully understand it. Gwen understands it perfectly.
“Thank you, Daisy, toi may go,” she says quietly.
“Thank you, my lady,” she says hurriedly and practically sprints from the room.
Arthur walks back to the door, locking it after the girl.
When he returns to the bath, his mail and boots are off and the rest of his clothing is on the way. He is leaving a trail of garments in his wake.
He reaches the side of the tub and crouches beside Guinevere, leaning over to Kiss her softly, resting his hand on the side of her neck.
He pulls away and looks at her. She smiles, then furrows her brow.
“What?”
“I take it toi are planning on joining me in this tub?” she asks.
“That was the idea,” he says, leaning over to Kiss her neck.
“Good,” she says, rather matter-of-factly. He pulls back again to look at her.
“Why?” he asks, puzzled par her tone. Here I thought I was being romantic, and she sounds as though she thinks I need... “Oh.” He lifts his arm, turns his head and sniffs. “Oh.”
Gwen stifles a laugh as he drops his trousers and climbs in the tub. She reaches down for a comb and twists her damp hair up and secures it so it won’t fall in the water again.
“You have been training all morning with the knights, my love,” she says, pulling him to her so he is leaning back against her chest, his head on her shoulder.
“True. If I hadn’t been so distracted at the unexpected sight of toi in the tub, I probably would have thought to have Merlin draw me my own bath,” he chuckles. “But this way is much plus fun,” he adds, sliding his hands along her thighs on either side of him, soft and wet. He sighs, comfortable and content cradled against his wife in a pool of warm water.
Gwen kisses his ear and her hands rub his shoulders a bit. “So when are toi going to talk with him?” she finally asks.
“Talk with whom?” He opens his eyes and turns slightly, looking at her.
“Merlin.”
“What about?”
She sighs. “About not being your servant anymore,” she says, poking him in the back of his head with her finger, while mentally adding, Clotpole.
“Oh. That. I’m not sure yet.”
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
“No! No. I haven’t changed my mind, it’s just…”
“Good, because I was fully prepared to convince toi to change it back if toi had. I was a little concerned that you’d decided otherwise after the two of toi had words at lunch,” she interrupts, pushing him vers l'avant, vers l’avant so she can scrub his back for him.
“No, actually…” he pauses, thinking. “Actually, the fact that we argued just convinced me further that it is the right thing to do.”
“Because he stands up to you.”
He nods. “Because he stands up to me. And don’t think that I missed the message I gave myself in that dream I had yesterday, either.”
Guinevere smiles. Good, he did get it. She runs the soapy cloth along one arm, then the other, down to his chest, sliding her hands and the cloth around along the contours of his muscles. She doesn’t realize that she seems to be dallying.
Arthur does. He grins. “Enjoying yourself?”
Gwen jumps slightly, a bit embarrassed at being caught. “At the risk of stroking your ego, yes, I am. I am thoroughly enjoying the feel of your muscles under my hands,” she admits, slapping him with the cloth.
“Hey!” he says, water spraying him in the face when she flicks the cloth at him. “Well, I am thoroughly enjoying the feel of your hands on me,” he tells her, leaning back again to nip her earlobe. She bends her head down and kisses him, her left hand taking the cloth and sliding it down under the water, between his legs.
He grunts as she finds him and slowly runs the cloth around his manhood, plus slowly than necessary. Thank you, he thinks, closing his eyes.
Her hand leaves him and he whines a little, so she pushes his shoulders down, dunking him under the water. He comes back up, sputtering slightly, wiping the water from his eyes.
“Guinevere!” he tries to sound irritated, but he is laughing too hard. So is she. “Well, now toi have to wash my hair,” he tells her.
“Obviously,” she says, chuckling.
Fully clean now, he stands and turns, holding his hand down for her. She takes it and stands, shivering slightly. The water had cooled down considerably and the tub was too full with both of them in it to add any plus hot water.
Arthur hurriedly reaches for a towel and wraps her in it, then lifts her from the tub, almost as if she were a small child. She hurries over to the fireplace and chucks in a few plus logs before drying herself in the warmth of the fire. She pulls the comb from her hair and lets it fall, shaking it slightly, raking her fingers through it, separating and untangling the curls.
She walks back over to her wardrobe, and Arthur’s hand shoots out and grabs her as she passes.
“What do toi think you’re doing, my queen?” he mutters low in her ear, pulling her into his embrace, s’embrasser her soundly before trailing down the side of her neck.
“If toi had your way, I’d…” she pauses as he bites her neck lightly, drawing a small gasp from her lips, “…never be dressed.”
“You say that… like it’s… a bad thing,” he teases, and she feels his lips smiling against her neck as he nuzzles her, nibbling her ear.
He breaks the Kiss and leans back to look at her. Her hair is hanging in loose curls, drying in the warmth of the fire, her already-full lips swollen and wet, wearing nothing but a towel. “You are beautiful, Wife. It’s… almost too bad that I’m the only one that gets to see toi this way, toi are so lovely.”
“Arthur, really,” she says, smiling, blushing under his compliments.
“No, really. I… I l’amour your hair all loose like this. Why don’t toi wear it this way?” He twines a curl around his finger.
“Because it isn’t proper for a Queen to be running around with her hair unbound like a girl.”
“Since when do toi care about that?” he asks, unwinding his finger.
“Well, it also gets in my way,” she smiles.
He raises his hands to either side of her head and threads his fingers through the thick dark brown curls, coarse yet strangely silken, feeling how they tangle and slide, still slightly damp. She closes her eyes as he slides his fingers through, letting the tresses fall from his fingers once, twice, then the third time he plunges his hands in to pull her head gently up to his for a kiss.
He holds her head gently as he teases her lips open beneath his, his tongue snaking into her waiting mouth where she sucks it hungrily in, her hands clinging to his chest. He moves one hand down around her waist, leaning her back as she brings her hands up around his neck, holding on.
Without releasing her lips, Arthur reaches down and lifts her in his arms and carries her to the bed, where he deposits her there, gently. She lifts her eyes to him and watches him with a crafty look on her face.
He steps vers l'avant, vers l’avant and Gwen reaches out for him, yanking the towel from around his waist before taking his erect member in her hand, holding it softly. Arthur stops breathing for a moment. She grins and raises an eyebrow at him, then leans vers l'avant, vers l’avant and takes him in her mouth.
“Oh… Guinev…” he gasps. His knees buckle and one of his hands goes up to grip the bedpost while the other delves into her hair. His head falls back as she slides her tongue along his length and reaches her hand up to cup him beneath.
He opens his eyes and looks down at her, her full lips on him, dark curls free and loose, towel coming undone, lounging on the bed. She takes him into her mouth as far as she can and slides back slowly, glancing up as she does so.
They lock eyes for a moment and a slow smile spreads across his face as he watches her, the l’amour tangible between them.
She swirls her tongue around him, then nibbles very gently at the tip, bringing forth a groan from him. Her hand is caressing and squeezing lightly, adding another layer of sensation and Arthur suddenly realizes she has brought him to the brink quicker than expected. He gasps, his breathing labored.
“Ahh… oh… Gwen… um…” he tries, but she ignores him and keeps at it, once again taking him fully in. She skims her other hand up his thigh, and around behind to ghost across his backside before she grips the muscle there, holding him.
“Gwen… st…”
She keeps him tightly in her mouth, sliding her lips very slowly, and a moment later he releases into her mouth and she reflexively swallows his seed as it hits the back of her throat, his member pulsing between her lips.
He breathes again as she delicately removes him from her mouth and her hand, sliding back onto the bed, resting back on her elbows.
Arthur stares at her, amazed and a little confused. “Guinevere…”
She can feel his eyes rake over her, from her tiny brown toes to the towel now only casually draped around her, revealing her shapely legs and soft, beautiful shoulders, her breasts threatening to spring free at any moment; to the tumble of curls spilled around her shoulders, finally setting on her face, eyes dark with desire, succulent lips parted slightly, invitingly. Her tongue snakes out briefly and licks them unconsciously and Arthur’s arousal begins building anew.
“Come here, Arthur,” she beckons.
He does not need to be told a seconde time and he climbs across her, reaching for her towel.
He pulls the towel free, with her help as she shifts slightly to allow it to free. He whips it backward over his shoulder to land on the floor near his.
He dives over her, immediately raining kisses on her neck, saying, “You surprise me again, my love.”
“Curiosity,” she gasps, her hands on his chest, sliding, feeling the muscles jump under her touch as he descends to Kiss her lips, his tongue retracing the path he just watched her tongue make moments ago.
His hands rove her body as if he is exploring it for the first time, touching, skimming, feeling every curve and slope, and Guinevere feels as if his hands are simply everywhere.
“Arthur…” she gasps, and he ducks his head to take one breast in his mouth while his hand softly grips the other. She lifts her hips slightly and feels his arousal, already fully hard again, slide against her thigh. He groans at the contact.
There is a knock at the door.
“Was that… …oh!” she is distracted par Arthur’s gentle nibbling at her breast, taunting her nipple into a hard nub.
There is another knock. Arthur lifts his head from Gwen’s breast and shouts back at the door, “Go away!”
Gwen stifles a giggle and he returns his attention to her, dipping his hips to nudge her moist folds with his manhood. Her amusement is immediately forgotten as her legs spread wider for him, almost unbidden. Arthur drops a hand to touch her there, slipping his fingers into her in a way that makes her cry out.
He smiles as he suckles at her other breast, lavishing attention on it much as he did the other.
Arthur’s fingers slide and stroke her and she squirms beneath him, desperate for him.
“Arthur… please…” she begs, lifting her hips again, pressing against his hand.
“Please?” he leans back and asks, teasing.
“Oh, yes…” she gasps, writhing, trying to bring him closer again.
He enters her then, sliding in easily. They both groan with pleasure and he lowers down again to Kiss her as he moves over her. Guinevere feels slightly light-headed at the sensation, the sweet friction as he slips in and out.
Arthur’s lips leave hers and he wraps his arms around her shoulders, saying, “Hold on,” as he rolls them, and Guinevere suddenly finds herself over him, her hair cascading down over them like a thick curtain.
She flips it to one side and leans down to Kiss him, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck. He places his hands on her hips, helping her déplacer over him. Her feet emballage, wrap around his legs and she leans vers l'avant, vers l’avant further, stretching herself out over him.
“Oh…” she moans, finding a new sensation in this new position. Arthur lifts his head to Kiss her breasts, hovering tantalizingly close, and she holds his head to her, supporting her own weight with one arm as he licks and bites lightly at her nipple.
His hands release her hips and she keeps moving as they run around to hold her backside, caressing softly, sliding his fingertips up and down her back so softly that she shivers.
“Oh… yes… oh my… Arthur… Oh, God…”
Her release comes like a streak of lightning across the sky, hot and bright and fast, warmth spreading out from her center to envelop her body.
Arthur grins up at her and his head drops back to the pillows and she bends to Kiss him, her fingers Raiponce in his hair, pulling just slightly.
She remembers to keep moving for him, and his grip tightens on her buttocks as he lets forth a great growl and lifts his hips powerfully up into her, stilling her as he floods into her.
She drops gracefully onto him, snuggling into his chest with a contented smile plastered on her face. He brings his arms around her back, hugging her tightly to him as he breathes in the scent of her freshly-washed hair, so close, before releasing his breath in a sigh of extreme contentment.
My dear King Arthur,
I would be indeed honored to host a meeting that will bring peace to your two kingdoms. I have taken the liberty of sending a message to King Odin myself, in the hopes that he will be plus receptive if the invitation came from a trusted ally.
I look vers l'avant, vers l’avant to meeting your new Queen and will look for toi in one month’s time.
Respectfully yours,
Queen Annis of Caerleon
They read Queen Annis’ letter over dinner, finally enjoying a meal alone, which Arthur is thankful for because that’s what he’s wanted to do all day. Guinevere enjoys the solitude because she didn’t have to put her robe back on and could spend the rest of the afternoon and evening in her dressing gown. And another pair of Arthur’s socks. I should make some of these for myself, she muses, stabbing a chunk of potato with her fork. They are certainly cozy.
“That was very wise of her to write Odin herself,” Gwen says.
“She is that, indeed,” Arthur says, still grateful to the Queen for forgiving him.
“I do look vers l'avant, vers l’avant to meeting her, though I’d be lying if I a dit I wasn’t nervous about it.”
“Hmm? Um, Guinevere, I hadn’t yet decided if toi were coming along…”
“Oh, I don’t get a say?”
Arthur sets his fork down and furrows his brow. “It could be dangerous.”
“You will be there, as will several knights.”
“It is a long journey.”
“It is just under a days’ ride, Arthur.” She sets her fork down now and fixes him in her stare.
“Someone needs to stay here and take care of the kingdom.”
“I believe that’s what the council is for.”
“It may rain.”
“Arthur, now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“Am I? After what just happened today with Lord Dungball and his creepy little toad? No. I can’t risk it.”
“I’m going.”
“You are not.”
“You will disappoint Queen Annis. She wrote that she wants to meet me.”
“She will understand.”
“I want to meet her.”
“I want toi to stay here.”
“So toi want to be apart from me?”
“No! That’s not it at all! I just…”
“I am going.”
“Guinevere…” he cajoles
“Not going to work.”
“But…”
“I will feel safer out there with toi than here alone, Arthur. Surely toi realize that.”
He sighs. I’m not going to win.
“And I was hoping that I could learn from Queen Annis, if she is as great a Queen as toi say. I’m sure there is much she can teach me.”
Can’t argue that point. “I don’t know…”
“I’m going.” She picks up her fork again.
Merlin listens carefully outside the doors to the royal chambers to make sure he’s not interrupting again. He bites back a smile remembering Arthur’s shout of “Go away!” several hours earlier.
Hearing nothing but talking and cutlery, he knocks.
“Come,” Arthur’s voice calls out immediately.
Merlin enters, nodding politely at them. “Arthur…” he begins.
Arthur sets his goblet down. “Yes?”
“The chercher party has returned,” he says. He does not look happy, though. Gwen turns around to look at him.
“And?” Arthur asks, already knowing the answer.
“They found nothing. Not even a trail. It’s like they rode off and… disappeared,” Merlin says, frowning.
“That’s not possible, Merlin.” Arthur’s face is hard. He is not pleased par this news at all. I should have donné chase immediately, he thinks.
“Perhaps they weren’t really heading west,” Merlin suggests. “We have no idea which way they actually went. He told toi west, but we know that the man is a liar.”
“Damn!” Arthur pounds his fist on the table.
“I’m inclined to agree with Merlin. If he’s working for Morgana, there’s no telling where he was actually going and for what reason. We can only hope he’s not heading north to try and interfere with our upcoming meeting.”
“Send a party north, then. As far as the northern borders only, Merlin. I do not want any of my men infringing on Odin’s kingdom right now.”
“Now, my lord? The daylight is growing dim,” Merlin asks.
He sighs. “Will have to wait till first light, then. Damn. Curse him and his stupid toad Bernard.”
“Bertrand.”
“I don’t care.”
Part 16: link
Arthur sweeps back into the royal chambers, speaking as he does so. “Well, we’ve got that all worked out. The extra stations are set and the new rotation is all worked out. Leon is a genius at that, really. And I also dispatched a small chercher party west to track Lord Dungba…” he trails off when he hears a watery noise from the sleeping quarters. He drops his gloves and sword ceinture on the table, tableau and steps quietly over to investigate. He sees marguerite, daisy kneeling behind Guinevere, squeezing water from her wet hair with a towel, drying it as it hangs over the edge of the tub.
“Hello, Arthur,” Gwen says. Her eyes are closed. marguerite, daisy glances at him, and blushes as he walks toward them.
“Um…” she stammers, and Gwen opens her eyes and angles her head in Arthur’s direction. The look in his eyes is one that makes marguerite, daisy both warm and uncomfortable, though she doesn’t fully understand it. Gwen understands it perfectly.
“Thank you, Daisy, toi may go,” she says quietly.
“Thank you, my lady,” she says hurriedly and practically sprints from the room.
Arthur walks back to the door, locking it after the girl.
When he returns to the bath, his mail and boots are off and the rest of his clothing is on the way. He is leaving a trail of garments in his wake.
He reaches the side of the tub and crouches beside Guinevere, leaning over to Kiss her softly, resting his hand on the side of her neck.
He pulls away and looks at her. She smiles, then furrows her brow.
“What?”
“I take it toi are planning on joining me in this tub?” she asks.
“That was the idea,” he says, leaning over to Kiss her neck.
“Good,” she says, rather matter-of-factly. He pulls back again to look at her.
“Why?” he asks, puzzled par her tone. Here I thought I was being romantic, and she sounds as though she thinks I need... “Oh.” He lifts his arm, turns his head and sniffs. “Oh.”
Gwen stifles a laugh as he drops his trousers and climbs in the tub. She reaches down for a comb and twists her damp hair up and secures it so it won’t fall in the water again.
“You have been training all morning with the knights, my love,” she says, pulling him to her so he is leaning back against her chest, his head on her shoulder.
“True. If I hadn’t been so distracted at the unexpected sight of toi in the tub, I probably would have thought to have Merlin draw me my own bath,” he chuckles. “But this way is much plus fun,” he adds, sliding his hands along her thighs on either side of him, soft and wet. He sighs, comfortable and content cradled against his wife in a pool of warm water.
Gwen kisses his ear and her hands rub his shoulders a bit. “So when are toi going to talk with him?” she finally asks.
“Talk with whom?” He opens his eyes and turns slightly, looking at her.
“Merlin.”
“What about?”
She sighs. “About not being your servant anymore,” she says, poking him in the back of his head with her finger, while mentally adding, Clotpole.
“Oh. That. I’m not sure yet.”
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
“No! No. I haven’t changed my mind, it’s just…”
“Good, because I was fully prepared to convince toi to change it back if toi had. I was a little concerned that you’d decided otherwise after the two of toi had words at lunch,” she interrupts, pushing him vers l'avant, vers l’avant so she can scrub his back for him.
“No, actually…” he pauses, thinking. “Actually, the fact that we argued just convinced me further that it is the right thing to do.”
“Because he stands up to you.”
He nods. “Because he stands up to me. And don’t think that I missed the message I gave myself in that dream I had yesterday, either.”
Guinevere smiles. Good, he did get it. She runs the soapy cloth along one arm, then the other, down to his chest, sliding her hands and the cloth around along the contours of his muscles. She doesn’t realize that she seems to be dallying.
Arthur does. He grins. “Enjoying yourself?”
Gwen jumps slightly, a bit embarrassed at being caught. “At the risk of stroking your ego, yes, I am. I am thoroughly enjoying the feel of your muscles under my hands,” she admits, slapping him with the cloth.
“Hey!” he says, water spraying him in the face when she flicks the cloth at him. “Well, I am thoroughly enjoying the feel of your hands on me,” he tells her, leaning back again to nip her earlobe. She bends her head down and kisses him, her left hand taking the cloth and sliding it down under the water, between his legs.
He grunts as she finds him and slowly runs the cloth around his manhood, plus slowly than necessary. Thank you, he thinks, closing his eyes.
Her hand leaves him and he whines a little, so she pushes his shoulders down, dunking him under the water. He comes back up, sputtering slightly, wiping the water from his eyes.
“Guinevere!” he tries to sound irritated, but he is laughing too hard. So is she. “Well, now toi have to wash my hair,” he tells her.
“Obviously,” she says, chuckling.
Fully clean now, he stands and turns, holding his hand down for her. She takes it and stands, shivering slightly. The water had cooled down considerably and the tub was too full with both of them in it to add any plus hot water.
Arthur hurriedly reaches for a towel and wraps her in it, then lifts her from the tub, almost as if she were a small child. She hurries over to the fireplace and chucks in a few plus logs before drying herself in the warmth of the fire. She pulls the comb from her hair and lets it fall, shaking it slightly, raking her fingers through it, separating and untangling the curls.
She walks back over to her wardrobe, and Arthur’s hand shoots out and grabs her as she passes.
“What do toi think you’re doing, my queen?” he mutters low in her ear, pulling her into his embrace, s’embrasser her soundly before trailing down the side of her neck.
“If toi had your way, I’d…” she pauses as he bites her neck lightly, drawing a small gasp from her lips, “…never be dressed.”
“You say that… like it’s… a bad thing,” he teases, and she feels his lips smiling against her neck as he nuzzles her, nibbling her ear.
He breaks the Kiss and leans back to look at her. Her hair is hanging in loose curls, drying in the warmth of the fire, her already-full lips swollen and wet, wearing nothing but a towel. “You are beautiful, Wife. It’s… almost too bad that I’m the only one that gets to see toi this way, toi are so lovely.”
“Arthur, really,” she says, smiling, blushing under his compliments.
“No, really. I… I l’amour your hair all loose like this. Why don’t toi wear it this way?” He twines a curl around his finger.
“Because it isn’t proper for a Queen to be running around with her hair unbound like a girl.”
“Since when do toi care about that?” he asks, unwinding his finger.
“Well, it also gets in my way,” she smiles.
He raises his hands to either side of her head and threads his fingers through the thick dark brown curls, coarse yet strangely silken, feeling how they tangle and slide, still slightly damp. She closes her eyes as he slides his fingers through, letting the tresses fall from his fingers once, twice, then the third time he plunges his hands in to pull her head gently up to his for a kiss.
He holds her head gently as he teases her lips open beneath his, his tongue snaking into her waiting mouth where she sucks it hungrily in, her hands clinging to his chest. He moves one hand down around her waist, leaning her back as she brings her hands up around his neck, holding on.
Without releasing her lips, Arthur reaches down and lifts her in his arms and carries her to the bed, where he deposits her there, gently. She lifts her eyes to him and watches him with a crafty look on her face.
He steps vers l'avant, vers l’avant and Gwen reaches out for him, yanking the towel from around his waist before taking his erect member in her hand, holding it softly. Arthur stops breathing for a moment. She grins and raises an eyebrow at him, then leans vers l'avant, vers l’avant and takes him in her mouth.
“Oh… Guinev…” he gasps. His knees buckle and one of his hands goes up to grip the bedpost while the other delves into her hair. His head falls back as she slides her tongue along his length and reaches her hand up to cup him beneath.
He opens his eyes and looks down at her, her full lips on him, dark curls free and loose, towel coming undone, lounging on the bed. She takes him into her mouth as far as she can and slides back slowly, glancing up as she does so.
They lock eyes for a moment and a slow smile spreads across his face as he watches her, the l’amour tangible between them.
She swirls her tongue around him, then nibbles very gently at the tip, bringing forth a groan from him. Her hand is caressing and squeezing lightly, adding another layer of sensation and Arthur suddenly realizes she has brought him to the brink quicker than expected. He gasps, his breathing labored.
“Ahh… oh… Gwen… um…” he tries, but she ignores him and keeps at it, once again taking him fully in. She skims her other hand up his thigh, and around behind to ghost across his backside before she grips the muscle there, holding him.
“Gwen… st…”
She keeps him tightly in her mouth, sliding her lips very slowly, and a moment later he releases into her mouth and she reflexively swallows his seed as it hits the back of her throat, his member pulsing between her lips.
He breathes again as she delicately removes him from her mouth and her hand, sliding back onto the bed, resting back on her elbows.
Arthur stares at her, amazed and a little confused. “Guinevere…”
She can feel his eyes rake over her, from her tiny brown toes to the towel now only casually draped around her, revealing her shapely legs and soft, beautiful shoulders, her breasts threatening to spring free at any moment; to the tumble of curls spilled around her shoulders, finally setting on her face, eyes dark with desire, succulent lips parted slightly, invitingly. Her tongue snakes out briefly and licks them unconsciously and Arthur’s arousal begins building anew.
“Come here, Arthur,” she beckons.
He does not need to be told a seconde time and he climbs across her, reaching for her towel.
He pulls the towel free, with her help as she shifts slightly to allow it to free. He whips it backward over his shoulder to land on the floor near his.
He dives over her, immediately raining kisses on her neck, saying, “You surprise me again, my love.”
“Curiosity,” she gasps, her hands on his chest, sliding, feeling the muscles jump under her touch as he descends to Kiss her lips, his tongue retracing the path he just watched her tongue make moments ago.
His hands rove her body as if he is exploring it for the first time, touching, skimming, feeling every curve and slope, and Guinevere feels as if his hands are simply everywhere.
“Arthur…” she gasps, and he ducks his head to take one breast in his mouth while his hand softly grips the other. She lifts her hips slightly and feels his arousal, already fully hard again, slide against her thigh. He groans at the contact.
There is a knock at the door.
“Was that… …oh!” she is distracted par Arthur’s gentle nibbling at her breast, taunting her nipple into a hard nub.
There is another knock. Arthur lifts his head from Gwen’s breast and shouts back at the door, “Go away!”
Gwen stifles a giggle and he returns his attention to her, dipping his hips to nudge her moist folds with his manhood. Her amusement is immediately forgotten as her legs spread wider for him, almost unbidden. Arthur drops a hand to touch her there, slipping his fingers into her in a way that makes her cry out.
He smiles as he suckles at her other breast, lavishing attention on it much as he did the other.
Arthur’s fingers slide and stroke her and she squirms beneath him, desperate for him.
“Arthur… please…” she begs, lifting her hips again, pressing against his hand.
“Please?” he leans back and asks, teasing.
“Oh, yes…” she gasps, writhing, trying to bring him closer again.
He enters her then, sliding in easily. They both groan with pleasure and he lowers down again to Kiss her as he moves over her. Guinevere feels slightly light-headed at the sensation, the sweet friction as he slips in and out.
Arthur’s lips leave hers and he wraps his arms around her shoulders, saying, “Hold on,” as he rolls them, and Guinevere suddenly finds herself over him, her hair cascading down over them like a thick curtain.
She flips it to one side and leans down to Kiss him, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck. He places his hands on her hips, helping her déplacer over him. Her feet emballage, wrap around his legs and she leans vers l'avant, vers l’avant further, stretching herself out over him.
“Oh…” she moans, finding a new sensation in this new position. Arthur lifts his head to Kiss her breasts, hovering tantalizingly close, and she holds his head to her, supporting her own weight with one arm as he licks and bites lightly at her nipple.
His hands release her hips and she keeps moving as they run around to hold her backside, caressing softly, sliding his fingertips up and down her back so softly that she shivers.
“Oh… yes… oh my… Arthur… Oh, God…”
Her release comes like a streak of lightning across the sky, hot and bright and fast, warmth spreading out from her center to envelop her body.
Arthur grins up at her and his head drops back to the pillows and she bends to Kiss him, her fingers Raiponce in his hair, pulling just slightly.
She remembers to keep moving for him, and his grip tightens on her buttocks as he lets forth a great growl and lifts his hips powerfully up into her, stilling her as he floods into her.
She drops gracefully onto him, snuggling into his chest with a contented smile plastered on her face. He brings his arms around her back, hugging her tightly to him as he breathes in the scent of her freshly-washed hair, so close, before releasing his breath in a sigh of extreme contentment.
My dear King Arthur,
I would be indeed honored to host a meeting that will bring peace to your two kingdoms. I have taken the liberty of sending a message to King Odin myself, in the hopes that he will be plus receptive if the invitation came from a trusted ally.
I look vers l'avant, vers l’avant to meeting your new Queen and will look for toi in one month’s time.
Respectfully yours,
Queen Annis of Caerleon
They read Queen Annis’ letter over dinner, finally enjoying a meal alone, which Arthur is thankful for because that’s what he’s wanted to do all day. Guinevere enjoys the solitude because she didn’t have to put her robe back on and could spend the rest of the afternoon and evening in her dressing gown. And another pair of Arthur’s socks. I should make some of these for myself, she muses, stabbing a chunk of potato with her fork. They are certainly cozy.
“That was very wise of her to write Odin herself,” Gwen says.
“She is that, indeed,” Arthur says, still grateful to the Queen for forgiving him.
“I do look vers l'avant, vers l’avant to meeting her, though I’d be lying if I a dit I wasn’t nervous about it.”
“Hmm? Um, Guinevere, I hadn’t yet decided if toi were coming along…”
“Oh, I don’t get a say?”
Arthur sets his fork down and furrows his brow. “It could be dangerous.”
“You will be there, as will several knights.”
“It is a long journey.”
“It is just under a days’ ride, Arthur.” She sets her fork down now and fixes him in her stare.
“Someone needs to stay here and take care of the kingdom.”
“I believe that’s what the council is for.”
“It may rain.”
“Arthur, now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“Am I? After what just happened today with Lord Dungball and his creepy little toad? No. I can’t risk it.”
“I’m going.”
“You are not.”
“You will disappoint Queen Annis. She wrote that she wants to meet me.”
“She will understand.”
“I want to meet her.”
“I want toi to stay here.”
“So toi want to be apart from me?”
“No! That’s not it at all! I just…”
“I am going.”
“Guinevere…” he cajoles
“Not going to work.”
“But…”
“I will feel safer out there with toi than here alone, Arthur. Surely toi realize that.”
He sighs. I’m not going to win.
“And I was hoping that I could learn from Queen Annis, if she is as great a Queen as toi say. I’m sure there is much she can teach me.”
Can’t argue that point. “I don’t know…”
“I’m going.” She picks up her fork again.
Merlin listens carefully outside the doors to the royal chambers to make sure he’s not interrupting again. He bites back a smile remembering Arthur’s shout of “Go away!” several hours earlier.
Hearing nothing but talking and cutlery, he knocks.
“Come,” Arthur’s voice calls out immediately.
Merlin enters, nodding politely at them. “Arthur…” he begins.
Arthur sets his goblet down. “Yes?”
“The chercher party has returned,” he says. He does not look happy, though. Gwen turns around to look at him.
“And?” Arthur asks, already knowing the answer.
“They found nothing. Not even a trail. It’s like they rode off and… disappeared,” Merlin says, frowning.
“That’s not possible, Merlin.” Arthur’s face is hard. He is not pleased par this news at all. I should have donné chase immediately, he thinks.
“Perhaps they weren’t really heading west,” Merlin suggests. “We have no idea which way they actually went. He told toi west, but we know that the man is a liar.”
“Damn!” Arthur pounds his fist on the table.
“I’m inclined to agree with Merlin. If he’s working for Morgana, there’s no telling where he was actually going and for what reason. We can only hope he’s not heading north to try and interfere with our upcoming meeting.”
“Send a party north, then. As far as the northern borders only, Merlin. I do not want any of my men infringing on Odin’s kingdom right now.”
“Now, my lord? The daylight is growing dim,” Merlin asks.
He sighs. “Will have to wait till first light, then. Damn. Curse him and his stupid toad Bernard.”
“Bertrand.”
“I don’t care.”
Part 16: link
