Her King's Homecoming

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She has her own way of welcoming him home.
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She heard his voice calling her. His deep growl echoed in her ears as he demanded her presence. He'd been gone for months now. His homecoming celebrated. She had yet to be alone with him and part of her feared her first encounter with him after so long.

It was always the same. He came home, held court begrudgingly then summoned his wife to his side. Normally, she stood beside him always at his right hand. Today, she was tired and mad, taking a stand against her husband.

He called again. She stood patiently at a window in her room. Her arms folded across her chest. The only thing she wasn't sure of was whether or not he'd come for her himself. Some days he caved. Others he fought back.

The knock on her door told her he'd be fighting back. Had he come himself he would have barged through her door.

"He's calling for you," his guard informed her.

She shrugged unconcerned. He could call all he wanted. Her King would just have to wait.

"I'm to take you by force if you do not come."

She knew what force meant. It would mean being dragged before him. She refused to lose anymore dignity to him.

Turning on her heal she followed his guard from her room to his great hall. The guard held open the door for her but did not follow her in.

The normally full hall was empty. It seemed cold and sterile without the masses of people crowding in to see the great King. The room was uncomfortably quiet.

He sat on his throne the perfect image of power and strength. She knew better. His eyes to anyone else would appear to be unconcerned. But again, she knew better.

"Where were you?" he growled at her. She didn't think he intended to be so hostile but she knew he was tired and worn out. His voice was unintentionally harsh.

She glared back at him. "I though you had all the comfort you needed tonight, my lord."

"Did you?"

She tilted her head as she met his eyes. For a brief moment she thought he looked amused.

"And what would give you that idea?"

She moved to stand in front of him. Placing her hands on either side of him she braced herself on the armrests and leaned into him. She took in a deep breath inhaling his scent. Though it wasn't his scent that had her angry tonight.

"You smell like one of your whores," she growled in a menacing tone he would be proud of.

His barking laughter mocked her. He threw his head back as he continued to laugh. She pulled away from him and glared. She wasn't here to entertain him.

"I am always flattered by you jealousy, pet, but it is always unwarranted."

When he came home earlier that day she had been excited to see him. He'd been gone too long and she missed him immensely. She had gone to the hall to greet him with the others when she saw a woman wrap herself around him. She'd latched onto him, her hands all over a body that did not belong to her.

She had never been the type to make a scene, to embarrass him or herself. So she had gone back to her room. Back to her sanctuary and waited. She supposed she should have been more confident that nothing was going on besides an overzealous woman throwing herself at the most powerful man in the room. But she couldn't help it. She had always been as possessive of him as he was of her.

Turning her back to him she tried to reel in her anger. She was hurt and lonely. Too many rumors got back to her about a husband she rarely saw. She loved him, truly she did but it was hard keeping a vigil for a man that was never there.

Soundlessly, he moved behind her. She felt his heat at her back as he invaded her senses. His hand pushed aside the thin material covering her cunt, his fingers trailed gently over the smooth skin of her inner thighs. Dipping his head to her neck he took in her scent in much the same way she had done him.

"I only have one whore." He whispered in her ear. "And I need her more than anyone else in the world." He cupped her possessively, slipping his fingers between her wet folds and pulling her back against his hard cock. He ground himself against her making his intentions more than clear.

She wiggles her way out of his grasp and turns on him viciously. "You've been gone months. I've been mocked for months about rumors of your activities, and now you come home and expect me to just spread my legs for you?"

She was angry. She was not well respected amongst his people. They treated her with false kindness and respect. Most biding their time until she could be gotten rid of. Men still brought their daughters to him, hoping he would take them as lovers and eventually make their daughters wife and queen. She stood by his side through those times simmering in her own rage. Her husband would decline each offer but how long would it be until he tired of her?

"I don't expect you to spread your lovely thighs for me." He shook his head a malicious smile forming on his lips. He moved closer to her once again, invading her space. "I expect you to bend over and take my hard cock in your wet little pussy." He was inches in front of her as he slipped fingers slick with the juices from her pussy into his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned as he licked her from his fingers.

Furious she turned from him. She took no more than two steps before his hand gripped her by the hair stalling her movements. He pulled her back against him. His hard body wrapping her in an intoxicating heat. Her heart was racing and despite her anger his aggressive behavior had her pussy soaking wet.

"So it is to be like this for my homecoming, is it wife?" He growled low in her ear, raking her with chills. "I am to take what you won't give me willingly? What is mine by right?"

"You do not own me." She ground out.

He tilted her head to the side exposing her neck. With his free hand he squeezed one of her breasts. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. To keep from begging for more. His possessive nature, his violent arousal tells her all she needs to know about his loyalty to her. She knew him. If she meant nothing to him he would have simply found a more willing partner for the night. He wanted her. Wanted her strongly enough to take her.

"Yes, my beautiful Queen, I do own you. I own these perfect breasts," he used both hands to rip away the linen covering her breast. He cupped them, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. He trailed his hands down her sides, down to her legs and back up between her thighs. "I own this wet cunt," he ground out as he stroked over her hard clit. She moaned, her eyes closed and her legs gave out. He kept her steady with his strong hands between her legs.

He spun her around once he'd steadied her. His hands gripped her ass, his fingers digging into her skin. "I own this tight ass." He pulled her up against him, crushing her breasts against his chest. He leaned in, just a breath away from her lips, "and I own these soft lips." He sealed his lips against hers, taking what he desired from her in a bruising kiss.

His tongue slid possessively into her mouth, stroking against hers. The kiss was hot, violent in passion. He held her tightly to him, but she ground herself against him of her own free will. She wanted close to him. Wanted to crawl into his skin. Mark him as he was marking her.

He released her lips on a gasp. He starred into her eyes, studying her. Whatever he saw it inflamed him further. His pupils dilated until the color of his eyes was almost gone. He then trailed his lips over her neck, nipping and then licking at the pulsing vein. He moved down further, stripping away the torn cloth covering her body until it pooled at her feet. With her breast barred to him, he attacked each one. Biting, sucking and licking at each one until they were hard peaks, until his mere breath across the tips caused her pain.

She was so wet, her juices seeping from her hot cunt, coating her thighs. She rubbed herself against clothed leg. Desperate for a release. The rough cloth abrading her sensitive flesh. His hard cock was pressed firmly into her stomach reminding her of her King's own arousal. Suddenly the need to taste him over rode all thoughts and desires. She went from passive and receptive in his arms to aggressive and forceful. Their bodies collided in a war of passion. Each of them filling their hands and mouths with the others flesh.

She tore at his shirt, exposing skin and running her over each exposed bit. Her teeth grazed his skin at the base of his neck. His growl rumbling against her lips excited her more than she could bear.

Suddenly he pushed her away from him. "On your knees, Lover." He was beyond asking with her and she knew it. She didn't even have it in her to fight with him anymore. She needed his passion, she needed his hard body, and she needed his dominance. The order growled out in such a harsh, low tone, brought her immediately to her knees.

She watched with boiling lust as he stripped his clothes off his body. First baring his broad chest, and strong shoulders and arms. She wanted to rake her nails down his chest. Feel those strong arms wrap around her and hold her close. Next he peeled his pants down his thick thighs, stepping out of the pants and kicking them carelessly to the side. He stood tall his powerful body formidable and threatening before her. Between his thighs his erection hung heavy and aroused. She took a deep breath, licking her lips as she imagined tasting him.

A soft touch against her cheek drew her from her mind. She opened her eyes to find her King standing above her. His eyes were hooded as he starred down at her. His cock was inches from her face, taunting her. Unable to resist touching him she ran her hands up his thighs, smoothing her hands up his body. Once she had gone as far as she could reach she curled her hands and retraced her path with her nails. She felt him shudder, his touch turned from gentle to demanding. He gripped her hair at the base of her neck and tilted her head back.

"Put your hands on my thighs and open that warm little mouth of yours."

She did as he asked with little resistance. He pulled her into his engorged cock. She ran her lips against the hardened silk lapping at the tip as she passed. A growl erupted from his throat as she took him deep into her mouth. Her lips wrapped around the swollen flesh, her tongue licking at the pulsing vein. He tasted exquisite to her. Heady spice and salt invaded her senses. She could smell him. Taste him. Feel him all around her.

"Fuck, take me deeper, Love. I know you can take more." He held her head viciously forcing her to take as much of him into her mouth. He fucked her moth with deep strokes. Soon his big body was shaking as he took her mouth. His hold on her head was bruising. She watched his eyes roll and then close. His breathing was uneven, moans slipped from his lips as he continued to push his cock between her lips.

Without warning his eyes snapped open and he ripped himself from her clinging lips. "Enough." He panted. "Stand up. Go place your hands on the armrests of the throne."

She did as he asked. She bent forward gripping the armrests. She could feel his eyes on her ass, his heated gaze a physical touch on her over sensitized flesh.

"Spread your legs. Show me how wet my cunt is."

She knew what he liked. What he expected of her. She moved her feet apart as far as she could, opening the lips of her dripping cunt with her pose."

She glanced over her shoulder to find him stalking toward her. His hand stroking his cock as he approached her. She couldn't wait to feel him inside of her. Taking her with the same force he'd taken her lips. She wanted him inside of her deep. Hard.

His hand trailed slowly up her inner thigh, teasing her. "I can't wait to taste you, love. Always so wet for me."

He knelt behind her spread her ass cheeks exposing her further. He leaned into her and ran his tongue from her clit to her slit and back. He nipped at her cunt, flicked her clit with his tongue ruthlessly. She could not hold still, could not hold her moans in. She ground herself against his greedy mouth. Heat assaulted her, boiled up from the depths of her body and engulfing her. She could feel her orgasm building. A tension building and building, desperate to escape her body.

He was evil when he ate her cunt. He refused to sink his fingers into her desperate flesh. Refused to penetrate her, merely teased her opening with his tongue. It made her desperate for his cock. Desperate to feel him buried deep inside of her.

Just as she was sure she could take no more. Just as sure she was about to come with his mouth against her clit, he pulled away. Bit the inside of one of her thighs before standing. He slapped each cheek of her ass. "Not yet, Love. I will let you cum in mouth later. Right now I want to feel that tight cunt stretching for my cock."

He gripped her hips and ran the head of her cock through her slick folds. Teasing her clit and forcing her to do what she hated. "Please, my King, please fuck me."

He sank into her flesh in one thrust. Not allowing her a slow penetration or an easy adjustment to his thick cock. The pain of his entrance turned to incredible pleasure. She came hard and violently around his cock.

"That's right, Love. Cum on my cock. Your pussy feels so good gripping me like that."

She sagged forward. Barely able to support her self. His hold on her hips was the only thing that held her up. He allowed her to come down from her orgasm, basked in how her tight pussy pulsed around him. He knew she was ready again when she was able to push herself up on her arms again. Bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

He didn't disappoint. His pulled out slowly until just the tip was lodged in her cunt before slamming back into her. He fucked her in hard, aggressive strokes. He took her, shoving his hard thick cock, inside of her as deep as he could. His thrusts were violent, building her orgasm again in an instant.

He once again took hold of her long hair. Wrapping it around his fist and tilting her head back. His other hand dug into her hip, pulling her against him with each thrust. She could feel him inside her, pulsing. He was as close as she was. They never lasted long his first night back. They were desperate for each other.

It took everything in her to keep herself braced, her hips raised. She wanted to collapse her limbs were so loose. Her orgasm was just a few more thrust away she could feel it.

"Please," she begged. She wanted him to cum with her. Wash her womb with his seed. "Cum inside me, my King."

She didn't think it was possible but his thrusts became more violent. He slammed into her. The pain once again triggering an intense pleasure. "Fuck, take my cock. Every inch." He grunted as he continued to thrust inside her. "Your cunt looks incredible stretched around my cock."

He slammed into her on one final thrust. She came apart with him lodged inside of her. Crying out, her orgasm raping her of thought. She could do nothing but take him and moan.

She felt his body tense in the same instant. Buried deep inside her cunt he came hard. Filling her with his cum and moaning out her name.

After long moments of just holding himself inside of her, he began to pull out. She began to fall forward, but a sharp slap to her ass stilled her.

"Don't move yet, Love. I want to see you cum soaked cunt." He leaned over her, whispering in her ear. "You know how I like to see my mark on you."

She braced herself higher. Holding herself up for him. She could feel his cum overflowing from her cunt. His cum slipping from her and running down her thighs.

He ran a finger up her thigh capturing some of the escaping seed and brought it to her lips. She licked it from his fingers, sucking them into her mouth as she stared into his lust filled eyes. He would be ready to take her again soon.

"Why, my Love, would I need any whore, other than you? No woman gives me what I need. No woman can take me like you do." He gathered her limp body into his arms and turned to sit with her on his throne. She was sprawled against his chest her legs on either side of his. "No, my Queen. I need only you. I love only you."

She knew he meant his words. Never doubted his love for her. But she also knew who her husband was. A warrior in every sense of the word. Had she come to him easily he would surely have been in another's bed within weeks of being married. She always fought him. Always would. It fired his blood and she knew it.

She loved the violent passion between them and would always stoke that flame. Always.

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Scotsman69Scotsman69over 14 years ago
There are technical imperfections...

... in the writing. But your grasp of the intense relationship between them, your ability to express their fierce sexual needs, make this a fine story. Please keep writing.

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