Page 42 of The Kingdom's Crown

My eyes filled immediately, stinging and burning, and Aric growled at the sight, tugging me roughly against his chest. His arms wrapped around my back as sobs clawed their way up my chest and into my throat where I bound them behind clamped jaws. The only sound that escaped was a faint and strangled whine.

"Darling girl," Aric whispered in my ear, pressing firm kisses to the side of my face. "For all their carelessness, you really turned out spectacularly."

I could hold in my screams and sobs, but not my sudden and surprised laughter, so they all rushed out in a tangled mess. My arms whipped around Aric's shoulders as he lifted me into a tight squeeze. The others were moving closer, and the door to the suite squeaked.

"Shit, what's happened?" Cresswell growled with one glance at us upon his arrival.

"I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter. Bryony just needs us," Cosmo answered.

"I won't even know where to begin," I moaned to Aric.

"Well I certainly wouldn't either, but I imagine we'll sort our methods out as it goes. We can't do worse than they did." I made a strange noise, a squawk and a sob, and one of Aric's hands reached up to cup the back of my head. "I could've strangled him, but I object to hurting the elderly."

I choked a little and leaned back, Owen's temple touching my cheek as his head bent to kiss my shoulder. Aric was smirking at me, mad humor in his eyes. Strange as it was to admit, Michael probably wasn't a great deal older than Aric.

"I love you," I said.

Aric smiled and leaned in, pressing a kiss to my nose. "We love you too, princess."

11

Cosmo

“Oh, stars! Daniel!"

I glanced up from my sketch, smiling and flipping the page. Bryony's hands were clutching at Daniel's thick strands, her knees high and bent. Her heels rose off the bed and toes curled in the air as her back arched, breasts tipped sharply and begging the air to be sucked. Daniel wasn't faring much better, hips bucking into nothing as he sucked and licked and feasted on Bryony's sex.

I waited before setting my pencil down on the page again, eyeing the others. Thao and Wendell were kissing and groping one another on a couch by the fire, waiting patiently for their turn with our princess, torturing themselves for fun. Owen was in the bath, washing up from the stables before joining us, and Cresswell stood to the side, eyes too focused on the couple on the bed to really be guarding us.

"How can you stand to be sketching and not touching?" Aric muttered, sitting at my side, his heel jiggling on the floor.

Bryony came again with a bright cry, eyes going wide and hands fisting in the sheets.

"The sounds she makes for him while he does that make me feel as though I should grow a beard," I said, laughing at Aric's almost feral focus on Bryony. "How can you stand to be reading? Sketchingislike touching."

Vaguely, but it was a tangible experience in my mind, and I knew what I wanted from Bryony this evening. Sketching passed the time until she was ready for me.

"I'mnotreading," Aric bit out, snapping his book shut.

Bryony scrambled out from under Daniel, yanking him up onto the bed and pushing him down onto his back. She straddled him quickly, an intense focus fixed to his face as she settled herself onto his cock.

"We ought to make her a saddle for that thing," Aric said.

"I am her saddle," Daniel said with a note of strain in his voice, a faint quirk on his lips. His eyes never left Bryony's.

I snorted and waited till Bryony was fully seated on Daniel's ample length—and girth—before putting my pencil to the page again. This time it was Daniel's face I sketched, the utter rapt attention he gave to our princess, the sudden open devotion he wore.

Daniel was still fairly reticent, hovering at the edges of our numbers, and if it weren't for moments like this when he came suddenly alive under Bryony's attention, I might still resent the man's presence. But the second Bryony turned to Daniel for any reason, he lit up, and it became so obvious that our princess was his entire world.

Aric and Cresswell both moved for the bed, and I watched with interest as Aric deferred to Cresswell's determined pace. Bryony gasped as Cress took the back of her neck in a firm grip, pushing her down chest-to-chest with Daniel.

My pencil froze as Cresswell spread Bryony's ass open to his gaze first, and then his fingers. She squealed, riding Daniel's cock roughly as Cresswell stretched her.

Footsteps slapped against carpet as Thao and Wendell abandoned their post to hurry onto the bed and watch Bryony. I turned the page again, quickly outlining the figures on and around the bed.

Pages and pages of erotic unions, tender embraces, every single feature of Bryony outlined and shaded. Not for the sake of art, not really. I was trying to capture the power of the moments, as if one flat image by my hand might preserve a perfect memory. Except every one of those memories was me on the wrong side of a page. I hadn't learned how to sculpt my favorite flavor—Bryony's sweat and violets. Or the sound of her voice breaking, breathless pleads for mercy and formore.

I closed my sketchbook on the attempt, setting it to the side and watching as Cresswell sank himself into Bryony, sandwiching her between his and Daniel's chest, their bodies taking over the rhythm she'd wanted, slowing and extending it to make her tremble.

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