‘you know, baby… you still haven’t fucked me on my own throne yet. and nobody would stop us since well… I’m queen’ (my pookies my beloved)
The throne room, amongst many places in the Faerie Realm, was something to be admired. Henry didn’t exactly like admitting that aloud, considering the local residents had made it known from the get go that he, a werewolf, and a peculiar one at that, was not a welcome guest in their home. But internally, he had to appreciate the sights for what they were, they reminded him of all the fantasy books and comics he’d read growing up, all the movies he and Frank would watch on weekends when he’d stay at his friend’s parents’ home. Maia seemed to find it a little stuffy, a little pompous, things she was not, but perhaps that was just her ADHD talking.
They spent more time here than usual, at the moment. Ever since finding one another, finding the realm, the pair had taken it upon themselves to find out one more thing — the truth. This realm, Eyvien, the people called it, held secrets and a past hidden far out of reach from anyone’s hands, but the new Queen sought change. The new Queen sought new beginnings, and that made for lots of enemies. Something was brewing in the land, but the pair were determined to find out what had really happened here many moons ago, and find out who they both really were.
The throne room was large, high ceilings, adorned with riches and luxry, everything you’d expect from a royal residence, though none of the regal abodes in the human realm had any comparison to what they saw here. At the centre, the beautiful throne, a large chair that seemed almost made of crystal, sparkling jewels, gold, anything you could imagine. It was beautiful. And it was all Maia’s.
She was still adjusting to her title. Henry was still adjusting to being engaged to the Queen, being a werewolf who loved the Queen, what that all meant, it’s implications. At their core, they were simple human beings; they liked eating Chinese takeout on the rooftop of Henry’s Vancouver apartment, watching movies, having sex in all the places they shouldn’t. Their favourite hobby, one to take them away from all the stress the realm offered them, was finding new and exciting places where Maia could ride her fiancé all night long. Simple things, you know?
It was a quiet moment, just the pair of them in the room, Henry admiring the sights more than Maia did. He was stood behind the throne, hand upon the top, looking over at her from a distance. A wolf, a creature so lowly, touching the sacred throne, oh how the counsel would scream in horror at the sight and knowledge. His eyes glowed with something yellow, an indicator of what he was in the realm, though Henry’s eyes had always glowed with darker shade than other wolves. He never knew why. Hers were purple.
“For saying the royal residence is so spiteful and full of hate…” He began, lips twisting with bitter amusement, hand brushing over the top of the throne, “… They’re particularly talented with making beautiful things. Has everything always been so grand?”
Maia scoffed without impress, shrugging at her love. She didn’t know or care to think about what any royal team or counsel had to do or say. Not after the way they had treated Henry since he had first arrived.
“Understood.” He chuckled softly, nodding and looking down for a moment. “No progress, I see?” No progress in being more amicable with one another, that was.
“Nope.” She quipped bluntly, beginning to walk towards him. “Though, you know, baby…” She continued, walking up the short steps before arriving to the front of the throne, Henry still stood behind it. “You still haven’t fucked me on my throne yet…”
Royal life hadn’t changed Maia. She was still just as vulgar and bratty when it came to their private affairs as she always had been, and Henry loved her for it. He stared at her for a moment, eyes filling up with slight excitement. “You’re right, Your Majesty… we haven’t.” His smirk grew slowly, hand remaining on the throne as he moved around to stood beside her. No, behind her, “Is that so wise?” He leaned in from behind, speaking quietly into her ear. He was just playing up to the fun of it, he didn’t care.
“Nobody would stop us. Since, well…” She leaned her head back slightly against his broad chest, turning slightly, “… I’m Queen.” She took great amusement in that. Having complete control over those old hags. Henry leaned in for kiss.
There was something so satisfying and exciting about doing it in places you weren’t supposed to, doing it places where you could be caught, doing it where people you hated might have to have the displeasure of catching you. Henry revelled almost a little too much in the thought of those idiotic counsel members or royal guards catching them in the middle of the deed, so much so that he wasted no time in getting to it. He removed his jacket as they kissed, her hand under his chin, eyes tightly closed, tossing it to the floor aimlessly, left only in a fitted black shirt. He liked to work out, there wasn’t much to hide there. He shuffled forwards a little more so the back of her body was firmly against his, the pair humming at the feeling of their shared body heat as they kissed.
Hungrily, as most werewolves were in situations like these, the tall man’s hands pulled the shirt from over his head, casting it away to reveal his pale and harsh, toned features, always a contrast against her more tanned and softer curves to her body. Her never ending curves, it seemed. Breaking from the kiss, he looked at her eagerly, a jagged breath escaping his lips at the mere thought of what was about to come. Hopefully, him. She conveniently wore a skirt, and Henry wondered if this had all been a part of her plan, but he pulled it down with ease to the floor with one swift movement, revealing all to the naked eye. She only wore a thong, as she often did, but his lips turned to a wicked grin, glancing aside for a moment. The door was wide open.
His fingertips moving to the zip on his jeans, pulling door and slipping a hand inside. His other hand moved to her back, gently pushing her down so she was fully bent over, her hands holding each arm rest of the throne. They had a mutual understanding when it came to these things, what they liked and what they didn’t, and he knew she was more than fine with him moving her any which way he liked. As he always did, he admired what was in front him, her perfectly rounded derriere all for the taking, moving his hand from within his boxers to out, fingers running up and down his dick, feeling it begin to harden from just the sight.
“… If they catch us…” He mumbled, beginning to rub his dick over her fold slowly, up and down, pat it against each cheek slowly. His breathing was slow, deep, almost rumbling, She hummed in delight at the sensation, head turned to her side as she wiggled her ass slightly against his dick, against his skin, his grin growing at the sight. He leaned down himself, one hand firmly holding the top of the throne, the other gripping her waisted, squeezing. “… If they catch us, I can’t wait to see their faces.”
The hand on her waist pushed against her back and up to her thong, using his strength to simply rip it off in one clean swipe, hearing her slight gasp at his choice. Letting out a soft wince at how her ass felt rubbing against his penis, he couldn’t bare to wait any longer; he slipped inside her, groaning loudly as he felt how wet she was, letting her adjust to the sensation for a moment. Fuck, he hissed into her ear, gritting his teeth, before being to pump himself back and forth slowly. He was big, he knew he was big, and he knew she adored him for this fact.
It never got old. It never grew tiresome, watching the way her cheeks clapped loudly against his toned skin, thrusting himself back and forth in motion. One thing he’d quickly learned about Maia is that she was hardly concerned about her volume, and her loud moans always matched in perfect rhythm with his groans and his growls. The hand that was originally on her waist now held one cheek tightly, slapping it every so often to encourage a harder, faster rhythm, appreciating the way it slowly turned more and more red. He leaned his head back, indulging in the growing wetness, her growing voice, eyes shutting tight as his mouth ran dry.
This continued for some time, the loud claps and moans echoing in the high ceilings of the room, though no one had seem them yet. Unexpectedly, she pushed him away so he slipped out, looking down for a second at his dick that glistened from having been inside of her, smirking at how red her cheeks were. Both face and behind, that was. He grinned, watching her move back up and in, her hand slipping over his dick and massaging it tenderly, eyes locked on his, his own hands pulling her top away from over her head and tossed it down, unhooking her bra with ease — he’d had much practice. Two more delights, all for him. He kept her in close, arms slipping behind her waist as she continued her handjob to keep him hard, before she suddenly pushed him so he fell into the seat of the throne.
Now it was her turn.
Moving to hover above him still stood on her feet, her fingertips gripped his jeans before pulling to the floor, kicking them away with their feet, so they were both stark naked in the throne room. His breathing was still heavy, eyes drunk with lust, her hands slipped over shoulders, moving down to straddle him perfectly on his lap, dick nestled between her fold once more. With this, her head hovered slightly above his, and for a moment he peered upwards, a hand moving a strand of sticky hair from her forehead. “I’d stay like this forever, if I could.” He whispered, making her smirk with glee. “What, inside me?” She asked quietly, beginning to rub her ass once again against his penis, letting out a shaky breath. He nodded, “Yeah, if I could.”
Soon, she moved a hand behind her, gripping his dick firmly, raising herself, before letting him slip back inside, beginning to ride him rather furiously. Her rhythm was fast without missing a beat, the loud claps of contact filling the room, her cheeks squishing against his thighs each time, moaning loud and high with her eyes clenched shut. One hand held her ass, and Henry leaned towards her boobs, mouth cusping one nipple and beginning to suck tight, lip running over the tip hungrily, humming in euphoric delight.
Continuing to fuck, it was only by chance that he peered just a little upwards, to see someone in the doorway; a counsel woman, an old hag as he called them, perhaps one of the worst and most hateful of them all. She had a particular dislike for Henry more than the others, but all she could do with stare in mortified horror. Horror at the explicit display she saw, horror at the concept of a wolf sat upon their so-called sacred throne, groaning loudly into the ear of the Queen as she rode him like she never would again. Yet, she said nothing, too startled to intervene. But Henry didn’t stop, he didn’t do a thing, he simply let Maia continue to do exactly as she did, glowering down at the counsel woman with drunken lust and sadistic delight that she had see him, mouth a little ajar.
These were the changes they would have to get used to.
