King of Tresta

Isaac Cerrillo | Husband, Father, Public Servant | 37 | OC

[king-cerrillo]

“Come back to bed.”

“Aren’t you worried?”

Isaac didn’t need to open his tired eyes to know that Mason was watching him. Studying him.

“I am always worried, my love.” 

The king sighed, heavy and deep and honest, before he opened his dark eyes, letting them adjust to the low glow of candle’s light. He offered an outstretched hand and Mason took it, sliding back into the warm spot he’d left at his lover’s side and curling protectively around him. “But they haven’t been safer since they last padded into this room to crawl between us ten years ago.”

To that Mason breathed a soft breath of consideration. Isaac’s eyes had drifted shut again but a slow smile spread. He knew the way his hero’s delicate features were shifting across his perfect face in careful thought.

“Ser Eoin,” Mason paused to scoff. It was as ridiculous as it sounded considering the man had less than no interest in honor, glory, or any of the associated titles. “I’ve no doubt he’ll protect her with his life.”

“Aye.” Isaac’s sleepy voice shifted into something softly darker. His idle hand left the fuzz of Mason’s forearm, sliding soft, regal fingertips across the man’s lean muscles to entwine their fingers and pull him closer. “Mayhaps he is not the one we should be concerned about.”

“She may look like her mother but she gets that sense of absolute conviction from you, you know.”

Mason breathed against Isaac’s hair, squeezing at him as the king backed himself up to press the warmth of his body along his lean lover’s own. Even after all these years the fire between them had only grown stronger.

“I know,” Isaac muttered with the smallest hint of remorse. “We want what we want.” The king’s free hand reached behind him to take hold of his lover’s cock, still slick but not quite spent from earlier exertions. “And when we want it,” he breathed, shifting only slightly to line their bodies up once again.

It was a dance Mason had mastered. He trailed kisses along his king’s shoulder, taking over control once Isaac had backed up to his thick cockhead and sinking himself home inside his lover’s body before they both adjusted to get closer.

“Is this what you want, my king?”

“What I need, my love.”

[hishersyoursmine]

“ Respect could build an empire. Trust could make it unbreakable. Love could make it last forever.” -SS

[king-cerrillo]

Insular and prosperous, Tresta was a veritable paradise. The most common societal problems that plagued the world around them had no hold in Tresta where even Kings bowed to the magic of the Old Ones.

Isaac thanked those gods now. He stood on the raised platform that displayed the proud Throne of Tresta behind him to study the crowd. His posture was perfect and as usual, the King had nary a hair out of place. His smile was bright as he looked out over the nobility that gathered at the palace for seasonal celebrations and offerings to Braciaca, the goddess of the harvest.

He could feel her before she appeared and he found himself longing for the wide doors to open while he waited for the customary titular announcements - by far the most unpleasant thing about their formal events. They’d been married ten years now but seeing her face every day felt the same as it always had. When she smiled at him the rest of the world ceased to exist. 

She could never be close enough and he chuckled as he tucked her into his side. She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek that had the heat building in his loins already. 

“I love you so fucking much, Mase.”

“I love you too, Zac. Are you as ready to get this over with as I am?”

“If you mean ready to be buried inside you under the full moon in a garden of blooming jasmine, yes. Yes, I am.”

Her answering laughter warmed his bones and his heart swelled so much he felt like he wanted to tuck her against his chest and keep her there. He settled for taking her hand, lacing their fingers as she stood beside him - ever an equal, never as less.

–

She was in his arms before they were even fully alone and they both sighed a sound of mixed relief and pleasure when he laid her on the soft cushions underneath a wide garden trellis. Their kisses were soft and slow, deepening by the moment as their bodies ached to be closer.

Isaac had her tattooed legs on his shoulders as he slurped loudly and lewdly and utterly unconcerned with either at the feast between her thighs. He reveled in the way his thick fingers slid in and out of her wet, pink hole and the way her whole body arched up off the mattress every time he sucked her clit between his lips. He lapped at her juices, moaning into her folds as she quivered and came undone around him.

He fed her the juices from his fingers as he adjusted himself above her. Her legs folded so effortlessly around his waist it was like they were made to be there and he didn’t need hands to line their bodies up.

There would never be a day that joining with Maisy in the most intimate ways wasn’t the cure for all ails in his world. He kissed the whimper from her lips, hushing her with soothing tones as he took his time working himself into her while she clawed at him for more.

“I’ve got you, Mase.”

She gasped his name as he bottomed out and he groaned at the way she clenched around him. 

“I’m so fucking in love with you, Maisy.” His brown eyes were glassy. “I thank the gods every day for making you mine. You’re the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You’re brave and you’re strong and you’re smart and you are more than I could have ever hoped for as the mother of my children. I’m so fucking proud of you, Mase. I don’t tell you that enough.”

[painfulblisss]

[king-cerrillo]

King of my heart. I love you, Isaac. I love this life despite all the responsibility it brings.

You are the only soul in existence that I would want to build a legacy with.

I love you so godsdamned much Mase. I always have and I always will. You own me.

[king-cerrillo]

afternoon delight

Isaac snatched the reigns from his wife’s gloved hands and met her vocal protest with a bright smile. He walked her Gallo, the massive black stallion with a glossy, black mane to the nearest tree to tie him and reached to scoop Maisy from her saddle.

“Uh huh.” He agreed pleasantly in the face of her sputtered objections, carrying the tiny tornado that was Maisy Cerrillo, the love of his life and wife of almost 20 years, over to the woven blanket he’d set up on his early morning run hours before. 

“Zac. I still have to meet with the commander from the third battalion if they’re going to-”

“Mase?” Isaac’s soft brown eyes blinked down at her, waiting. “Commander Mathis isn’t going anywhere. He’s stationed at the marina until morning.”

“But-”

“No buts, your grace. As your king, I command you.” He paused only enough to flash a smug smile at the way her face fell - just before it twisted into something irritated and her mouth snapped open again. He silenced her with a finger pressed tight against her lips and swallowed down a giggle. 

“Baby, my baby.” His voice dropped and he used both hands on her waist to pull her closer. He nuzzled his face into her thick hair and thanked every god in every book or scroll for the life she’d given him and the right to call her his. “Let’s be normal people for just a little while. No kings or queens.” His heavy hands trailed from the curves of her slim waist up the slope of her breasts to play at the edge of the fabric across her cleavage. “Just a man and his wife. A hungry man and his pretty, slightly terrifying wife.”

“Well.” Maisy kissed his cheek with a tiny smirk, gesturing with a free hand. “Don’t stop there.”

“Kiss me, Mase.”

They shared a chuckle with the kiss before it deepened. Before long they clawed at each other,  the same way they always had when the fire burned too bright - the same way they had even as children fated to something so much larger than either of them could know. Isaac had scooped her off her feet to lay her on the blanket, settling between her legs. Maisy was scrambling for purchase against his wide shoulders as they both worked to peel his loose shirt off before he  hitched the long edge of her dress skirts into a bunch at one hand. 

He kissed his name from her lips and swallowed her moan when he dipped two thick fingers inside her. The wet heat of her had him aching and he told her as much, grinding himself shamelessly against her tattooed thigh while he worked her core with expert hands.

“Isaac.” She gasped his name before long, pulling at his wild hair to make him look up at her from where he’d moved to get the best view between her holy thighs. 

He answered her with his tongue, lapping at her eagerly, trailing the tip of his gentle tongue along her slit before flattening it to apply more pressure and sucking her tender bud into his mouth while he added a third finger to her clenching cunt. The way he wanted her felt unholy sometimes - like it was something so otherworldly sometimes it possessed him and left him aching at it’s mercy. She was ever the only cure.

He worked his fingers inside of her, flexing against her slick walls, pushing on her pubic bone with one hand and crooking his fingers with the other to stroke against the spot that left her dripping liquid love onto the blanket between them. His mouth worked her nub and took turns nipping at the sensitive skin of her soft inner thighs each time she climbed too high.

He liked to drag her orgasms out as much as humanly possible. Forcing her to the edge and then holding her back just to do it again. Unfortunately his resolve was fading by the second time her fingernails were digging into his scalp and incoherent pleas spilled from her mouth.

“That’s my fucking girl, Maisy. That’s my fucking queen. I want to see that pretty pussy cum.”