Page 55 of The Ivory King

“King Raloven requested we play on until he was asleep, Your Majesty,” an older woman in magenta robes explained.

“Oh, well, that does sound lovely, but we would like some privacy,” I said as my cheeks grew warm. The musicians all hurried to leave. Only to be replaced by two valets who gave us their names—Parvel and Parsis—twins by birth and then informed us that they were to be the king’s and his consort’s keepers of our private closets. They were handsome men, older than V’alor but still in their prime, who waited patiently for us to make a move.

V’alor threw a look at me. “Youarethe king,” he said with a touch of wry humor.

“Yes, that I am.” I let out a weary breath. “Good elves of the private closets, as much as we appreciate your dedication to your duty, my husband and I will be undressing each other this night.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty. We sleep betwixt your chambers, so if you have need of us, you need to simply ring the bell on your nightstand,” Parvel informed us before they slipped out the door leading to V’alor’s room.

“What manner of need would we have of them?” V’alor asked as he began to peel himself out of his plum suit. “Wouldwe call out for them should our underclothes become twisted on our balls?”

“If that were to be the case, I would free them for you,” I said as I flopped down on one of the six stools at the foot of the bed. It was still warm.

My body began to melt into the softly padded tuffet. “I am exhausted,” I admitted out loud for the first time in over two days. “Perhaps we sent the valets away prematurely. I might not be able to reach my boots to remove them.”

“We do not need valets. I will happily undress you, Your Highness.” V’alor padded over to me, his body moving with a slight swagger that made my mouth water. Even now, as depleted as I was, my body reacted. Cock twitching in my tight breeches, I watched as he neared, his gaze smoldering. He kneeled. My prick began to stiffen at the sight. I spread my legs. “Your boots must come off first.”

“No titles in our bedchambers,” I gently reminded him as I lifted one leg. “Then remove it, and then the other. We have been remiss in our duties.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Remiss how? We have done everything that Umeris dictated down to feasting on blooded goat.” His face said it all.

“The dwarves consider it a delicacy,” I reminded him as he took my foot, hand on one heel, and tugged my soft white kid boot off.

“I considered it disgusting. Who would serve such a dish? Why would they even suggest dipping your meat into a bowl of spiced blood? Are they ghouls of the stone?” He yanked the other boot off, tossed it aside, and then reached for the ties of my breeches.

“You seem to be in a rush to remove my trousers,” I commented as he plucked the ties open with deft fingers.

“It has been a long time, Aelir, and I yearn to sink into you.”

My prick pulsed with want. Indeed, it had been some time since we had lain together. The needs of Melowynn had come before our own, something that I was sure would happen on a regular basis now that I sat on the throne.

“I yearn for that as well,” I whispered softly as I lifted my ass up so he could divest me of my undergarment and pants in one hard tug. My cock sprang free, slapping my belly, the wet head peeking out of my foreskin. “Also, it will add another duty completed to our long list.”

He buried his face into my belly and sucked a mark on my abdomen that made me writhe in pleasure and pain. I ran my hands over his bare shoulders, up into his short hair, and steered his mouth downward to my aching cock. He sucked me down greedily, the hot wet glory of his throat bringing my ass up off the stool with a shout. “Ah, yes, that is marvelous.”

He rolled my balls in his hand as he moaned low and deep. My stones tightened as his hum vibrated through my shaft and into my sack. “I need you inside me,” I gasped, rolling my hips in a circle as I tugged at my shirt. The tip of his finger found my hole. “V’alor, now…now…please. Please!”

He pulled off my slick prick with a pop, his gaze aflame as his sight met mine. “Such a demanding monarch,” he teased, pressing his finger in just enough to make me squirm like an earthworm.

“I’ve always been demanding when it comes to making love with you,” I said, ripping at my silken shirt in a frenzy to be free from it. A few seams on a sleeve tore. I cared not. All I wanted now was to be under this man. “Damnation, this shirt is a nightmare.”

“Let me.” Sadly, that tempting finger in my ass disappeared. V’alor took hold of the richly appointed formal shirt with both hands. With a smile that sent tingles to my core, he ripped it open. I stared down at the shredded shirt in shock and then,with a wildness that I did not know I possessed, I tore at it further, yanking the ripped halves off and flinging them over my head. “You are a vision.”

I dove at him, pressing my mouth to his. His tongue slid over mine as he wiggled his hands under my buttocks and stood. I groaned into the sloppy kiss while he stepped up onto the raised platform that held the king’s enormous bed. My enormous bed. No, our enormous bed, for I planned on waking next to my beloved for centuries.

He placed me on the thick mattress, the smell of crushed lilac coming from the duvet flowing over us as we lay upon it. My hands roamed over his hot skin while our tongues tangled. His cock settled next to mine, thick and as hard as the handle of the bed warmer resting near the hearth. We would have no need to have that waved under the sheets to keep us warm this night. With a soft whine, I found his breeches blocking me from his bare flanks.

“They must go,” he grunted, pushing back to stand. With a speed that was impressive, he shucked his remaining clothing to the side. His prick stood proudly out from his body.

I licked my lips as I slid a hand down under my balls to tickle my furl. His eyes turned as black as night as his nostrils flared.

“In the nightstand is a jar of blue abalone oil,” I said while fingering myself with just the tip of my finger. “The Sandrayan envoy said it was a gift that would ease the way when one is seeking pleasure with another man.”

His eyebrows dropped into a deep V. “I am not sure I like the idea of you discussing such intimate things with that man.”

“You have no worries, my sweet, trust me. All others pale in comparison to you. Now, fetch the abalone oil that I had delivered earlier, coat your cock, and sink into me before I go mad with want.”

“So imperious,” he teased, low and gruff, as he pulled a small sack of dark red from the nightstand. Small bottles clinked together. He plucked one of three free, popped the cork, and gave it a sniff. “Mm, that is enticing.”

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