[Reminder: This story contains explicit sensual content, violence, mature themes, and references to trauma/abuse. Reader discretion is advised.]
The air suddenly felt cold as the heat of him had shifted once he pushed away.
"You are my Queen," he said firmly, trying to catch a grip on himself.
Have we not moved past this? After everything, is this still where we stand? Why can't he just let go of the chains and free himself?
Part of her wanted to soothe him, to say she understood, that it was alright. But it wasn't. And she didn't. So, she couldn't.
The pleasurable heat that swept through her was kindling into a more wicked fire, one that sparked ugly feelings and dark thoughts.
She didn't know how to control it and didn't think she needed to.
Instead, a mischievous smile formed across her lips, welcoming the wickedness.
"Hmm. If that's so," she said, stepping closer. "Then what if I gave you an order to serve me as your Queen?"
Bazil's brow twitched at the way she said it, her eyes narrowing on him.
"Do I not serve you already?" he asked softly.
"What if I wanted you to serve me in other ways?"
She hadn't known where her boldness had come from, nor did Bazil, gulping as his head tilted, clicking his jaw as his breathing picked up.
He stepped out as if he were about to turn away, yet kept turning back as she laid against a tree, sending his head into shambles.
"Then…I would serve you in other ways," he said. "In any way you wanted."
Her wetness ached at the low grumbling in his voice. Bazil inhaled deeply, then hovered over her, his hands slipping to the slits of her skirt and pulling at the back of her thighs.
He'd clench his fist, willing himself to pull back, but never did, and breathily asked, "How would you like me to serve you?"
It was bold of him to assume he could touch her as he did. And he knew it. Yet convinced himself that if she ordered him to serve her, then it wouldn't be as bad as if he acted on his own desires.
The flames stirring within him made him eager to grab her and—Stop, Bazilani, he thought. This is not the way of a guardian. Is this how you protect her?
She slid down to sit. Bazil quickly slipped his robe under her, crouching to be level with her. Just that sight alone spurned him. He leaned in.
"You really want to know how you can serve me?" she breathed slowly, feeling his warm chest lingering inches from her thighs. "Is that what you really want?"
"Yes."
You better stop this! Bazil yelled to himself. This behavior was not fit for a zazi. What would his brothers say? What would his parents say? And why wasn't this stopping him? All he could think about was how she pressed up against the tree, her thighs almost open enough for him to peek.
Stop.
But he couldn't, his eyes following up the edge of her skirt.
She felt his scorching gaze as it traced up her legs and how it stopped where she ached most.
Control yourself, Salīa. What are you even saying to him? Is this how a Queen is supposed to act? You can't have your way with him so now you want to command him? Is that how far you've sunk? I'm no better than a corrupt King.
Yet the more she looked at him, the wetter her undergarments became. His lips were wet from licking it, and she her own moistened in watching him.
He could feel her rousing and his own breath rising. She hadn't even known her legs opened wider.
Neither did he notice when he leaned in more, something carnal igniting in him when inhaling the strong scent of her.
Salīa snapped her legs closed as a menacing rumble came from him, his eyes heavy with lust.
A groan escaped her as the aching heightened, feeling like every part of her thighs was being cruelly pinched, the more she closed it.
"Are you ok?" he touched her knees, his gaze suddenly innocent and caring.
Her face shot down, reddened all over.
This is embarrassing. I can't even control myself. What must he think of me?
Seeing how fast she twisted away from him, he felt a sinking in his chest.
Has she changed her mind?
The thought only lasted a moment. Then her scent got stronger as he got closer, hungry to take it all in. She still couldn't face him, her legs slackening at his touch.
"Is this how you want me to serve you?" he asked softly and solemnly, yet there was a hint of teasing in his tone.
In a second, he lowered back down, his head lingering over her wetness. Her breath hitched as his breath washed over her thighs.
His tongue eager to taste it, to lick it, to drink it.
The shame kept her gaze away, yet her legs had completely lost feeling, unable to hold stiff due to the pain and warmth of his hands still on her knees.
His eyes flickered over her inked marking there, and he said, "how pretty," having her lose all reason at the low sound of his voice vibrating through.
She finally managed to look at him, her face flushed, eyes wet and breathing unsteady.
He was waiting, staring, listening for her command. Yet she couldn't utter a word with how flustered she was, unable to take it all, but her embarrassed, beseeching gaze was all he needed.
"Ok," he smirked, and lowered.
His wet tongue dripped as he dove in and—
"Stop!" she cried, grabbing the top of his hair tightly, her body shaking.
He obeyed, yet his heavily frustrated sigh brushed between her thighs. She panted, losing grip, her face full of blush, unsure what to do. He looked at her humiliated expression.
Something primal in him enjoyed having stirred her into such an overwrought state. His urges tempted him to provoke her further.
When she looked at him, her eyes glowed with a bright, electric blue.
His hunger deepened, fully enchanted by her otherworldly gaze. Yet it simmered when he noticed the nuances of panic ridging itself through the twitching muscles on her face as her breathing shallowed.
Bazil stayed as a statue, suddenly unsure if he had offended her. I was too bold. How dare I take advantage like this? Yet she was thinking the very same.
"I'm sorry," they said in unison. "You don't have to be."
Both quieted, their panting still awkwardly filling the air. Neither could look at the other. She pulled back and released her grip once her legs closed.
Her eyes stayed low even when Bazil retracted. He thought to speak first, yet she cut through the silence.
"If I ever order you to serve me like that again, don't," she said, trying to sound dispassionate. "It's wrong."
After a long pause, he bowed and said, "Yes, my Queen."
The brusqueness of his response had the aching that lingered in her thighs shoot up to her chest.
Was I so repulsive that he couldn't help but rush away at my command? How could I be this sick? Bazil's always been too kind and indulged me. How could I know that and use it for such things?
This makes me wonder if I really am the child of a demon.
Only demons can be this disgusting. I must be one, because even now, I want to command his head return and not stop until I—
"You should get some sleep," he said firmly, rising. "We have a long day tomorrow, my Queen."
That title.
He drew further back until she covered herself.
Both were ready to retire in their assigned resting places, yet somehow, they found themselves curled up against the tree together, using his robe to lie on and hers to cover them.
Since the festivities have eased down, they could only hear each other's slow breaths. Then they silently gazed at the stars, the way they used to as children.
It was always something she and her mother enjoyed together, always gazing for hours. She wondered where in the realm her mother was now. And were Amandla and Awethu having a lot of fun.
Were they in Palosa?
Her mother always spoke fondly of Princess Olana, one of her longest friends. Just like Bazil and Salīa, they'd know each other for most of their lives and had many stories to share that could easily last many nights.
Maybe they'd all been having such a good time that they forgot to let anyone know where they were.
Or maybe they never made it to Palosa.
A hand removed Salīa's chewed nails from her mouth and then her other hand from the links on her neck that she'd been fidgeting with unremittingly.
"Shh," Bazil lulled like waves of the ocean. "I know you, Līa. Your head might be still, yet its travelling all over the earth, winds, fires, and seas. The day will be long tomorrow, let yourself ease this night."
He lulled again, humming a sweet, sedative song their mothers sang to them as babes.
Once their breath was light and their mind empty, they left the night to stir.
X