Amile The Queen

Prologue

She hates thunderstorms, she hates how the darkness takes away the lightness of the day. Just earlier, the sun was out in a cloudless sky. It's not even eight o'clock yet but it's dark like there's an eclipse outside. She abruptly gets off the bed, tossing aside her book, not caring about losing her page number and rushed to close the curtains. She had them and the windows opened because of the extreme heat, she wanted the fresh air. She is terrified, it doesn't help that she hasn't settled in yet, she hasn't made this room her sanctuary yet. It's only been a week, and she doesn't really like the décor.
She gets startled when the door to her chamber abruptly opens. Her head turns and as soon as her eyes land on him, she drops them to her bare feet.
"My king." She offers him a little bow, not lifting her eyes from the floor.
She hears his footsteps pacing towards her and her heart drops to the pit of her stomach.
"MaGumede." His baritone voice rumbled in her ears; he placed his hand on her arm.
"Yebo baba." She bent her knees in sign of respect. She is quivering on the inside.
His scent is unusual, she's not used to it, but he smells amazing, he smells like power.
"Your maid tells me you are afraid of the thunderstorm, that is why you didn't join us for supper." He ran his hands up her arm.
"Yes, my king."
"I will be spending the night here with you, is that okay?" her whole body went cold.
She bent her knees, "yes, my king." He chuckled lightly before he moved away from her body and plopped himself on the edge of the bed.
"I was hoping that my king would grant me permission to get ready for bed." He chuckled again, much to her annoyance.
"Go." He ordered.
As if she wasn't glued to the spot she was in, she hastily made her way to the bathroom. She knows exactly why she's here, in this palace, at her age. She knows what to expect from this abrupt visit he's suddenly made to her chamber. They got married almost two weeks ago, he hardly ever speaks to her, he's always with his real wife, the one he truly loves.
She gathered her toiletries and rushed to the shower and did a quick one two, not forgetting to shave and put on her best perfume. She made haste because no one keeps the king waiting. She threw on her red nightie and a gown to cover herself, just so it doesn't seem like she's throwing herself at him.
She walked into the room just as he was about to check on her.
"I thought you had drowned in there." She giggled lowly and bowed her head.
"I'm sorry my king."
"No, it's okay mama." How ironic that he calls her that, yet he is older than the woman who gave birth to her.
He approached her and he placed his hands on her head. He started untying the headwrap, but she stood still, she did not dare moved.
"I don't like this, don't wear it in my presence." He sounded very commanding, she loved that. He finally succeeded in removing it and her braids fell to her shoulders.
He moved them back and held the straps of her night dress. Slowly, along with the gown, he removed it from her shoulder. Her breathing hitched. His warm hands pulled the night dress down, exposing her firm nipples. A loud rumble in the sky startled her, causing her to pull her nightie up.
"Don't worry MaGumede, you are safe with me." His voice was softer, less commanding.
Nothing about this felt right to her. This is a man old enough to be her father, almost triple her age. Yes, she married him, but it doesn't change the fact that it doesn't feel right.
He carefully pulled down the nightie and cupped her round breasts in his large hands. It was nothing like he had ever felt in his life. Virgin breasts: he has seen them a thousand times, so many different ones, but he's never held them like this before. He placed her nipple between his thumb and index finger, and gently squeezed it, earning himself a moan. She had her eyes closed and her head leaning back in pleasure as he continued to rub her nipples. He was still in awe at her ravishing beauty and the sweet smell of her perfume.
He lowered his head to her neck and started planting soft kisses, as to arouse her further. She tilted her head to allow him more room. He knew he had succeeded in getting her there. He ran his hand down her waist, to her hips, slipping the nightie along with it. He was pleased to see that she was not clothed in underwear. His member got excited when his eyes finally met with her bare body. She felt exposed to say the very least, she wished she could cover herself up, run away and never come out again. The lustful stare he is giving her has her wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.
"Help me out of my clothes." He commanded.
With her trembling hands, she stepped closer and started to work the buttons of his shirt. She had tears burning her eyes as she finds the last button of her shirt undone. She pushed them back and rests her hands on the buckle of his belt. She is petrified. He helps her with the belt, then the jeans, and in no time, they were both naked, only the sound of the rain and thunder, and their heavy breaths, as they stand staring at each other's bodies. She may be a virgin, but she knows the body of a man all too well, she knows the body of the man she loves, the one she dreams and hopes to share this very moment with. But now she was joined to a man she knows nothing about, a man she fears with her entirety, a man of stature. After today, she will be a woman, but not to the man she desires to be with. After what felt like forever, he moved closer to her, cupped her bum in his hands, turned her around and led her to the bed. She gasped before moving up to the top of the bed. He got on the bed, on his knees, and held her legs, with her knees up in the air. He couldn't look at her face, he didn't want to look at her face. She was too beautiful, too fragile to look at. He didn't want to fall for her. That would be like betraying MaMzobe. What he is doing is already betrayal enough.
He tapped at her entrance twice before going down to her neck, leaving soft kisses, taking in her scent, feeling her soft skin on his lips. He maneuvered down to her chest, plopped one hard nipple in his mouth and sloppily sucked on it. She hated her body for getting turned on. She felt betrayed when her skittles started throbbing and heard the deep groan of pleasure from his mouth when he positioned himself at her entrance.
"Kuzoba buhlungu kancane MaGumede. Bambelela." She nodded and she moved her hands from the side and coldly placed them on his back.
She wasn't doing as she was told, and that made him chuckle. He knew she wouldn't last long and would be gripping onto him soon enough. He dipped his stick slowly and she jerked up in pain. She did not dare peep a sound.
"Relax. I'm almost in." she wanted to scream.
He lifted her leg up to his shoulder and slowly entered her deeper. She cried out in pain and gripped onto his shoulders. He was fully in, and he felt intense pleasure from the warmth of her core. He started moving but she wanted nothing but for him to stop. She tried pushing him off, but he held her tightly in place and caressed her cheek.
"Seyaqeda ubaba yezwa." He groaned, going faster and faster on top of her. She had tears running down her cheeks. This isn't about her and her pleasure, it's about him. She endured the pain until it turned to pleasure. He lied when he said he was almost done, but that's what men do, they lie. Just when her body was giving in to the pleasure, he started convulsing on top of her. He growled like an animal before she felt something shooting up her uterus. His body weight fell on her as he tried to catch his breath. When he finally moved away, he instructed her to lift her legs and have her knees in the air. She felt something dripping from her opening down to her butt crack. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep next to her. When he started snoring like a brass horn, she got out of bed. She was met by a big red stain on her side of the bed. She left it like that and ran to the shower. She used every product in her bag to try and scrub off his scent on her body, all of this with tears rolling down her eyes, burning her cheeks. Her coochie was swollen and on fire. It was unbearable. She closed the water, waddled back to the bedroom, put on her nightie, and grabbed a big towel to lay on top of the blood stain on the sheet.
There was a cold space in between them, she made sure to keep on her side and not even move an inch to his side. She certainly never believed her first time would be this painful, this unbearable, so insignificant, and un-special. She misses Nkosi, he was the one she had imagined would be her first, the one to share this special moment with. But he isn't here, it's the complete opposite of him. The king of Zululand.