brought his lips down to hers. She
remained impassive for seconds, and
then, as he knew she would, she
began to respond to him. Her lips
parted and her tongue caressed his.
Vulcan deepened the kiss, wanting to
ingrain himself into her lips, onto her
body. When he came up for air, her
eyes were closed, her breathing was
erratic, and he could hear her heart
beating frantically against her ribcage.
“Witch,” he murmured against her
lips, trailing kisses down her cheeks to
her neck.
“Oh!” someone screeched loudly,
causing Vulcan to immediately go on
guard, moving off of Jaisyn and
pushing her behind him. His eyes
were searching out his sword when he
recognized who had interrupted them.
It was only Madga, who turned her
back to the couple immediately and
halted the men who would have
followed her into the solar.
Jaisyn rolled away from him
immediately, moving to the fireplace.
“Excuse us, Majesties. We’re to
prepare the bath for the queen,”
Madga said, her back still turned to
Vulcan. Vulcan turned to look at his
witch, whose back was similarly to
him. He almost chuckled.
“Have the men fill the tub, Magda,”
he told the woman, watching as the
servants came in to do as they were
bade. When the tub was filled,
everyone filed out, and Vulcan
approached Jaisyn. She stood facing
the fireplace, with her back to him.
He stepped behind her and pushed
her hair away from her spine.
“They are gone, wife,” he told her
softly, undoing the laces at her back.
***
Jaisyn remained as she was. She
was still mortified, but her husband
had awakened the hunger in her body
that usually lay dormant until he was
around. She hated to admit it, but at
time she wanted Vulcan of Morden
with a passion that belied everything
she stood for.
When she was standing in her thin
gauzy shift, he touched her arm and
she propelled herself around, tilting
her face up to his.
He lowered his head to her and she
eagerly rose onto her toes and lifted
her hands into his hair. As she
caressed his scalp, he groaned and
pulled her tighter against him.
“Remove your shift, Jaisyn,” Vulcan
commanded softly, lifting his head and
taking a step away from her. He
didn’t go far. Instead, he began
undoing his breeches.
Jaisyn was slightly uncomfortable
exposing her body to Vulcan, but the
look in his eyes as he stared at her
told her he found her stunning, that
the little insecurities she had about her
body were not even thought of by her
husband. He stepped out of his
breeches, exposing the stiff length that
sprung from between his thighs. She
felt the wetness pool at her juncture
and slipped the shift from her body.
She expected him to come to her, to
pick her up and move her to the bed.
He did neither. Instead, he sat down
in the armless chair before the hearth.
Jaisyn’s eyebrows drew together in
confusion. What was he doing?
A wicked smile touched Vulcan’s
lips as he called her over. “Come,
sweet witch. I will teach you
something different today.”
Jaisyn approached him cautiously,
stopping a few inches away. He
grabbed her wrist, forcing her to move
forward until she was no longer in
front of him, but above him.
“Sit,” Vulcan commanded softly,
and feeling a thrill run through her,
Jaisyn did as she was told. His thighs
were hard and muscular under hers
and when he pulled her body closer to
his, her nipples brushed his chest and
her pearl bumped against the rigid
length of him. She gasped and tilted
her hips slightly, enjoying the feeling.
He caught her lips between his once
more, worshiping her with his mouth.
And then he was lifting her slightly, so
that he could worship her breasts,
tease her.
Jaisyn’s moans filled the room as he
moved a hand under her and began to
run his fingers through the wetness
that eagerly awaited his length. He
flicked her pearl rapidly as he plunged
two fingers into her channel. She cried
out and caught his forearm before
tossing her head back. Removing his
fingers, Vulcan angled her hips, lining
her up for his invasion.
Jaisyn felt her husband’s bulbous
head at her opening and blinked down
at him. His teeth flashed white as he
slowly lowered her, inch by inch onto
his pulsing length.
***
When he was fully sheathed inside
her body, they both released small
sighs. Jaisyn’s arms went around his
neck
and
she
stared
at
him
expectantly. Vulcan laughed as he
remembered that despite her eager
responses,
Jaisyn
was
still
an
innocent. She didn’t know what to do.
So, eager teacher that he was, he
showed her.
Lifting her slightly, he brought her
back down on his shaft. She gasped in
pleasure and he leaned forward to kiss
her. As his lips held hers, he repeated
the motion, lifting her only to pull her
back onto him. She picked it up easily
and the arms that had been locked
around his neck suddenly took up
position on both of his shoulders. She
rode him slowly at first, bouncing and
circling against him, before she picked
up speed. Vulcan learned that his wife
was an exceptional rider. He took
pleasure in watching her face as she
moved on him, watching her lips twist
as a moan escaped them, or watching
them part as he ground against her
nub, or seeing her eyes close as she
contracted violently against him and
fell onto his lap. Grabbing her hips,
Vulcan lifted and lowered her onto his
swollen member, easily following her
into orgasmic bliss.
***
The messenger from Morden arrived
first, twelve days after the messenger
from Lytheria had set out. He brought
with him a letter from General
Tarkon, the man who currently
oversaw Morden, which congratulated
Vulcan on his new kingdom as well as
his new bride. Tarkon wrote about the
state of Morden, showing Vulcan that
he had indeed left his kingdom in very
capable hands. Nothing was amiss
except for the regular squabbles,
which had been taken care of by his
justices. Tarkon had also enquired
about Vulcan’s return, a question that
the king himself could not answer. He
truly believed that the answer lay in
the message that had yet to arrive
from Mitherie.
A day after the Morden messenger
arrived
at
Lytheria,
two
royal
emissaries from Mitherie arrived,
along with four of their soldiers.
Vulcan sat in the chamber just off
the side of the Great Hall, a room that
held an elevated dais, and a range of
portraits of the former royal family. It
was a room where international
meetings, among other things, were
conducted. In Morden, he had such a
room. It was much larger, and on the
necessary occasion, served as a place
for the balls and galas his stepmother
threw.
Seated against the high-backed
chair,
Vulcan
watched
as
the
messengers were brought in. Varian
stood to his side, a welcoming smile
on his face.
The two messengers faced them and
waited.
“What message does our Western
ally send?” Vulcan asked in a loud,
booming voice.
Both
shifted,
looking
nervous,
before one began to speak.
“King Vulcan of Morden, Prince
Tarbin of Mitherie congratulates you
on your marriage to his trusted friend,
the Princess of Lytheria. The prince
has received the second letter from
the princess explaining the situation,
and has accepted it as such. The
Katarals wish you two health and
hope that you can be allies in the
years to come.”
Vulcan was pleased with what had
been said but he needed to be certain.
“Does your king have any intentions
of disputing my claim to Jaisyn of
Lytheria?”
The emissary shook his head
vehemently.
“My
king
has
no
intention of disputing the claim.”
“And Prince Tarbin?” Varian added,
quirking a brow at the flustered
messenger.
“No, my lord. Prince Tarbin wishes
King Vulcan and his new queen well.”
Vulcan nodded and turned to look at
the other messenger. “Have you a
message for me as well?”
The
messenger
bowed
before
saying, “If it pleases Your Royal
Majesty, the Prince of Mitherie has
sent a parchment to the queen. I am to
deliver it directly to her and await a
response.” He opened his bag and
pulled out a folded parchment. Vulcan
could clearly see the seal imprinted on
the blue wax.
Vulcan’s lips thinned as he glared at
the messenger. A message for his
queen that he could not see? He
wasn’t so sure that Tarbin accepted
the marriage after all.
“Varian, send someone for my
queen. Have her know that her
presence is required.”
His brother immediately stepped
from the chambers and returned no
more than a minute later. Silence
reigned until Jaisyn finally entered.
“This is Jaisyn of Morden and
Lytheria, my queen. You may hand
her the parchment,” Vulcan told the
messenger who bowed low and
quickly did as asked.
***
Eyebrows lifting, Jaisyn took the
parchment from the man and turned
to Vulcan. His eyes were hard, his lips
thin, his jaw set. Her husband was
angry.
“A message from the Prince of
Mitherie for Jaisyn of Lytheria,” the
messenger told her and Jaisyn looked
down at the parchment once more.
She easily broke the seal and read the
contents, hoping that it wasn’t
something radical and that her
husband
wouldn’t
do
something
irrational, like take it from her.
My dearest friend,
I have received both of your letters
and am unsure of which to trust. They
are both written by your hand but are
so different that I fear you must have
been forced to write the second. News
has traveled to me of your father’s
death. I am sorry. Wilhelm was a
great king, and a great ally. News has
also reached me of Morden’s
invasion of Lytheria mere days after
your father’s passing. You have but to
s a y the word and I will rally my
troops. If your second letter holds
true, and you accept Vulcan of
Morden as the rightful ruler of
Lytheria, thank the messenger. He
has been given specific instructions
to bring this letter back to Mitherie to
prevent it from falling into malicious
hands.
—Tarbin of Mitherie
Under his name was the seal of his
kingdom.
Jaisyn rolled the parchment up and
returned it to the messenger.
Varian spoke immediately. “Is the
letter to be returned to Mitherie?”
The messenger answered as he
placed it into his satchel. “Yes, my
lord. Prince Tarbin has given specific
instructions to return with this letter.”
He turned to face the queen once
more. “Is there anything that you wish
to say to the prince?”
Jaisyn’s eyes moved to look at
Vulcan as she thought about the
question. If she said ‘the word’
Tarbin’s army would swoop down on