Late

Chapter Three

On the day you arrived back in Wakanda you didn't see. The entire palace was somber, there was no laughter, no music, no dancing. There was barley any evidence humans lived there and not ghosts. Everyone was visibly distraught. You didn't see him until the next day when you encountered him in one of the conference rooms.

"T'Challa," your voice was barely above a whisper.

He looked at you and you saw his grief. Your heart broke more. You rushed to him and pulled him into your arms. The action felt as natural as breathing. You hugged him to you and he clung to you.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered to him.

The silence in the room didn't need to be filled with unnecessary words. He knew the depth of your sympathy, you and the king were close. He always treated you with respect and kindness. T'Challa's arms snaked around your waist and held you tighter pulling you completely against his body. You felt the hardness of his muscled body, he was pure muscle.

"I am not ready," T'Challa whispered, his lips skimming your shoulder. You pulled back and looked at his face. His eyes were weary.

"Of course you are. You've been preparing nonstop for the last six years, you've grown so much within that time. He knew you were ready, he often told me how proud he was of you. You are ready," you championed to him.

He studied you and within seconds his lips pressed to yours. The action caught you off guard. He kissed you with so much passion, so much heat he took your breath away. His lips expertly moved against yours. His hand at your waist moved to the crest of your back. The move made you gasp into his mouth.

He took that opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth, mingling it with yours. You heard a moan escape your lips and he responded with one of his own. The kiss was the most exhilarating thing you'd ever felt. He tasted of ever delicious thing in the wold, he also tasted of grief. You felt the backs of your thighs bump into the conference table. He slid you onto it in one quick movement. You opened your legs slightly to welcome him closer and he accepted the invitation without hesitation.

He dropped his lips to the nape of your neck and peppered kisses along it. You lulled your head backwards to give him more access to the spot on your neck that made you weak time and time again. He expertly kissed and sucked the spot making you mewl your pleasure. You knew this had to stop. Just then Okoye stepped in.

"My prince," came Okoye's voice.

Your lips separated and your head sunk in an effort to hide your face. It was stupid because you passed her in order to come in.

"Apologies, the queen is looking for you," Okoye answered lowering her head.

"I will find her," T'Challa answered never taking his eyes off of you. She nodded and walked back out. T'Challa moved to continue but you had to stop him.

"We shouldn't, this is your grief," you explained.

"Is that what it is for you too, grief?" He shot back. You bit your tongue because you knew it wasn't.

"T'Challa." Was the only thing you could get out before he crushed his lips back to yours.

Your moans echoed through the conference room that was big enough to hold thirty people. The kiss was urgent, as if he needed this as much as you did. As if he'd been dying to do it as badly as you had. Truth be told you really did need this, you needed this and so much more.

What was next though? What came after this passionate embrace? What came next if you let things continue past this conference room, to his chambers? He was going to become king in a matter of days. He would be held to a different level of standards than he was previously. This was hopeless.