The Dying

6

"What the hell?" The softly spoken words have the two jumping apart. Both of them blushing as they realize that they aren't alone.

Marcus looks around and finds Margaret standing there and staring at them, stunned. As he stammers trying to find the right words Margaret keeps talking.

"I never thought my mother would ever allow another man near her." She looks in wonder at her mother then at Marcus.

Marcus blushes then turns back to Aurora. "Forgive me, my lady. I went beyond what you allowed. I crossed the line. I won't bother you any longer."

Margaret is still trying to process the fact that her mother was kissing a man. She absently steps in his way. "Lady Margaret, if you would please excuse me, I think your mother would prefer I leave her room."

Margaret looks at him in confusion. "Why did it feel like you were kissing me, when you were kissing my mother?"

"What?" Marcus asks now a bit stunned himself. "That isn't possible." If what she said is true then...

His thoughts are interrupted by Margaret once more. "It felt like you were kissing me while you were kissing my mother." Margaret's eyes were shining. There is no doubt in Marcus's mind at this time that Margaret is fully one of them. Only Lockheartians eyes shine when they are aroused.

"Sire, would you kiss me?" Marcus startles a bit at Margaret's words.

"I have already over stepped things with your mother. My control isn't very strong right now. Should I kiss you, I would likely be unable to stop until I had you underneath me on that bed and a child on the way." Just the thought makes him hurt. There is no doubt that his own eyes are shining at this point. "I have already gone too far with your mother, crossing boundaries that I shouldn't have and losing her trust. If you felt my kiss, as you said, then she will feel all that I do to you. I won't violate her like that."

"I would feel what you do to Margaret?" Aurora comes out of her daze enough to hear him say that.

"Yes. I took the kiss I gave you too far, I won't hurt you further. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to violate your trust like that. I won't bother you again, my queen."

"You didn't do anything I didn't give you permission for, Marcus. You asked to kiss me and I gave you permission. Then you let me lead, anything you did you were just following me." Aurora smiles a bit dreamily, "It was a delightful kiss and I would love for another."

Marcus nearly groans as he sees her eyes glowing as well. There is no doubt that Aurora is Lockheartian with that response. He is hurting and his control is slipping with both of them showing just how aroused they are from his one kiss.

"Aurora," he begins desperately, "if you keep this up I'll lose control and take you to that bed and get you with child. That would definitely be more than what you gave me permission for."

Aurora smiles and her eyes glow even brighter. "I wouldn't mind, Marcus."

Then a thought comes to her and she stops her feet from coming closer. "I understand your need for a queen, and I understand that you are expected to have either a second wife or mistresses. If you take Margaret as your second wife, I can live with that. If you take any others then no. I will accept being your queen if you take no others than Margaret. I won't be just one among many. You already have five children on the way. You are confident that you will be able to get me and Margaret with child as well. There will be no reason for you to have any others than with her and I. If you are able to accept these conditions than I will accept being your queen and will marry you."

Margaret smiles in delight. She had liked Marcus from the first. After all it was because of him that her mother is still here and not dead. "If you will accept those conditions and you are wanting me, I will marry you as well." Margaret smiles and hopes that he will accept. She doesn't like the thought of being with another. Marcus is the only one that has called her attention in that manner. If he kisses like what she felt him give her mother, she will certainly enjoy being with him.