Long live the queen

Chapter 30

As Charles extended his hand towards Catherine, he gently urged, "Come on, your Majesty, you have to get ready for your coronation." With a reassuring smile, he guided her into the royal carriage, ensuring she stepped in gracefully. Charles followed suit, taking his place beside her, a silent promise of support and companionship on this momentous journey towards her destiny.

The carriage rolled smoothly along the cobblestone streets, the soft sound of hooves echoing in the evening air. Inside, the atmosphere was a blend of anticipation and reflection. Catherine, now a queen in her own right, felt the weight of responsibility and expectation settling on her shoulders. Beside her, Charles's presence was a comforting anchor amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

As they traveled towards the grandeur of the coronation ceremony, Catherine stole a glance at Charles, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the carriage lanterns. In that fleeting moment, their eyes met, speaking volumes in silence. The unspoken understanding between them, forged through trials and tribulations, now stood as a testament to their bond.

Charles was reaching over to either side, tugging the curtains closed, and then dropping onto his knees on the floor of the carriage, his hands going to the bottom of her skirts.

"Your highness, what are you doing?" she gasped, watching him. His hands were already underneath, and he was tossing the skirt higher with his exploration until even she could see the top of her stockings. She had a good suspicion as to what he was doing.

"I have 30 minutes, and I intend to make the most of it," he said, grinning up at her before he moved face first between her legs.

Queen Catherine did not know what to expect, his face between her legs, but at the first touch, she was already gone. Charles had her legs drawn up over each of his shoulders, his hands holding up her skirts, and she had wondered what it was he would be able to do with himself, given how he already seemed so occupied. She was wrong, though, to think that anything could stop him.

Prince Charles had his face between her legs, and he was sucking her nub into his mouth, tugging at it with his teeth, lapping at it with his tongue.

It was too intense from the start and she nearly shot up from her seat, gasping so loudly. She had not know what to expect, his face between her legs, but at the first touch, she was already gone. his hands holding up her skirts, and she had wondered what it was he would be able to do with himself, given how he already seemed so occupied. She was wrong, though, to think that anything could stop her husband.

He had his face between her legs, and he was sucking her nub into his mouth, tugging at it with his teeth, lapping at it with his tongue. It was too intense from the start and she nearly shot up from her seat, gasping so loudly she was certain everyone outside could hear.

He gave her some respite, though, his tongue dipping lower, so low she was embarrassed, "is that not the place that blood and children came from?" she gasped till there was hardly any breath. He hummed with delight as his tongue dipped in, and she could suddenly feel the appeal of it.

Catherine could feel his tongue lapping at her slit, lapping at the juices that were surely leaking from her. She actually rather liked it, how his tongue seemed to swirl against sensitive spots she had never known she had. His tongue slid up, and then again, it was at that little spot.

His tongue was so much different from her fingertips. It was almost as though he was playing with it, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin and then his lips sucking again. Each suck, short as they were, had her rocking her hips. She did not intend to do it, but her hands went to her skirts, knowing no where else to put them. She wanted to touch him, touch the back of his head even, to hold him.