A Crown For The Taking

Interupted

His hand slid between her hips, her dress discarded at the foot of the door. She arched under his touch, her body craving more of it. When her hips moved on their own as he pressed her against the wall he almost lost his mind. It was easy to get caught up in her, the skin, the body, the eyes.

He'd heard Ulric outside his door, telling the foreign Princess about Alene's company. He'd heard the rumors before, even seen her sneak away with the same servants he'd done similar things with. Taking up that lifestyle certainly guaranteed she'd pass inspection before they married. To make sure she was fit for a King.

Maël still felt fit for a King as his fingers pushed into her. Since the first time they were together it seemed she only got tighter. He could barely hear her pleas over his thundering heart beat, pumping blood loudly in his ears. He closed his eyes and leaned into her neck, breathing in the pine-lemon scent that drove him wild. Everything smelt like pine in Rhawon, but lemon didn't grow anywhere near here. The Prince had only known it once, when visiting a kingdom on the ocean, where it'd been their metal. Fruits had hung in every room, the lemon being the most prominent scent during the stay. And now as he licked her collar, trailing the thin scar, he recalled the small Princess who was born days before their arrival.

She brought him back by digging her teeth into his shoulder, he groaned, "Why?" Was all he said as he lifted her, carrying her across the room to sit her on his desk.

She chewed her lip, "I need you, I need to feel you. Nik." She moaned his name. God, his name falling from her lips was a curse. A curse that kept him calling for her, a curse that made him return to that beaten tavern a weeks time later.

He'd been at the bar when she slid her hand, or what he thought was her hand, around his shoulders. Only when she sat in the stool next to him did he realize she had a blade in her hand.

"I told you not to come back." She played with the shape edges of her knife, the ornate handle reflecting the poor lighting onto her face. He couldn't muster words as she pushed the blade back under her shirt. He been starring at her chest, the exposed skin reminding him of that morning. Of what he'd done to his father.

She leaned in, purposefully pressing her body against him, "A Prince without a tongue has no use." She'd slid her hand between his legs by now. He could hardly think when she dragged her own tongue to his ear, "Why don't you remind me what exactly that tongue can do?" Too eagerly he'd followed her into the alleyway, where he'd pressed her against the stone and taken her infront of the rats and anyone who came to look for the source of the ruckus.

She fixed her clothes before he could even steady his breathing, he'd been with women. Plenty of women, but never anyone of circumstance. She was a killer, a dangerous woman, and when she had weakly moaned his name he'd thought he'd blacked out. She turned to him after he straightened his shirt,

"Here," she handed him a red button, from her blouse he'd too hastily ripped open. "Place this on your windowsill the morning before you want me, but as always I'll need information." She left before he could ask how she'd know he set it out. His room faced the ocean, not the town. But two mornings later, after trying to keep company with servants and failing, he set the stupid button on the metal sill. He had gone six hours, suffering through meetings and court and properly keeping his head when his body was aching. His mind was near exhaustion when he slid into bed that night to find he was not alone. She stood behind his washroom door, her skin illuminated by the moonlight. He jerked up at the sight of Rhawons most wanted assassin standing naked at the foot of his bed. He took the time to look at her scars, Never lingering long any any of them as she crawled over him.

"You called?" She straddled him and held the button in two fingers. He smirked before she ground down on him, then he'd grunted. The guards were used to his nightlife noises, but later when she'd slid down and taken him in her mouth he'd yelled. His Royal Guard bursting into the room to find the red haired assassin at the Prince's waist. The worst part was she hadn't stopped, the Prince struggling to find the order in his throat for the guard to leave.