Author's Note: I was always intrigued by the relationship between Lei and Veedua in the manga. This fic is short (I'm almost embarrassed at how short it is) and takes things a bit further than the manga did.
Rating: Heed it. It means I'm writing from the gutter and there's sex involved.
Disclaimer: The author does wish to express that she does not promote extramarital affairs. But Veedua strikes me as the sort of person who very well might go there...
Removing Shoes
He walks a dangerous line.
She is his undoing; she may very well be his downfall one day. But he cannot stop himself from being attracted to her, and he has been attracted to her since the day he met her.
"I'm so tired," she breathes. Her eyes are closed; she lays sprawled across the settee, her shimmering gown spilling onto the floor. "Lei... remove my shoes, would you?"
She always asks this of him and he always complies; she knows he battles with feelings of resentment and annoyance at having to do such menial tasks, yet he complies regardless. He rises from his desk, piled high with paperwork on the affairs of the country; he crosses to the settee, takes her ankle gently between long, slender fingers, and eases the glittering, crystal-encrusted palace shoe from her foot. She moans softly, a sigh of longing and relief – he repeats the process with the other foot, but this time, he does not release her ankle.
They each know what the other wants. It is a game they play, taking her shoes off, and it is so very dangerous. Without moving, he seals the door with silent magic and prays that no one will enter, because there are some more powerful than he, and they could enter the room regardless of the seal.
He protested the first time this happened. He insisted that His Majesty the King could break the seal with extremely little effort, but she had merely smiled that cunning smile of hers and gazed up at him from the settee. He has other duties to attend to this afternoon, she'd said. He does not have the time to come here, today. You worry too much, Lei.
It was then he realized that she would always ensure that her husband – the King of Astale – was attending other duties on the days she wished to visit Lei. Somehow she also gets Jeile and Aram out of the way as well; he doesn't ask how because he doesn't particularly care.
Her delicate foot is still cupped within his hand. He marvels at the arch, the curve of her calf beneath her dress. His fingers slide upwards, following his gaze, caressing her smooth flesh. A tiny smile curves one corner of her mouth as his fingers reach her knee; her frothy, billowing gown rustles quietly as he pushes it higher.
"That feels wonderful," she murmurs, content and cat-like upon the settee, and he realizes that he is now kneeling on one knee between her legs, his other foot on the floor to keep his balance.
They rarely remove clothing. Doing so takes time and they rarely have much time. So he billows her gown over her stomach, revealing her long legs and the thin, short shift beneath the dress. He flicks the silk fabric up with his fingers, and the apex of her thighs trembles from the sudden brush of cool air. He unfastens his own clothing just enough to free himself, and bends to place dragging, wet, open-mouthed kisses along her mound.
She moans and fists her hands in the pillows on the settee; she never touches his silky hair to avoid musing it. Her legs spread wider and he buries his face in her center, inhaling the musky scent of thick juices starting to seep from her core. His tongue flicks out and she jumps at the contact, her back arching.
But he does not waste time on tasting her. Such luxuries are reserved for when the King is out of the country, when the man is traveling and she visits Lei in his private chambers.
In one swift thrust, he enters her and her head tilts back in ecstasy. He satisfies her, she claims, in a way that the King does not. The King demands submission; Lei is content to pleasure her.
And he pleasures her because it brings some relief to him as well. Because seeing her day in and day out as the wife of the King is tormenting and frustrating. His Majesty has given Lei a position of power within the kingdom and it is much easier to accomplish his tasks if he isn't battling lust.
She reaches to her chest and unfastens a few pearl buttons down the front of her dress, pushing it open so that he is rewarded with the view of her breasts heaving and bouncing beneath his care, the pink tips begging for attention. As he continues to pound into her, steady and hard, he leans over her and sucks one of her nipples between his lips, rolling it beneath his tongue and scraping it with his teeth.
She sobs his name and clenches around him – whenever they have the opportunity to fulfill their lust, she is always close to the edge and comes quickly. She once told him she has never come for the King. He doesn't know if she is telling the truth or not; she is a manipulative woman and could easily tell him such just to swell his ego. But when they are like this...when he is drawing in and out of her and glances between them to see his shaft covered in her delicious orgasm...he really could care less about the King, whether the man would break into the room and discover them or not, whether he would die a quick death for having an affair with the Queen or be tortured before death. It would be worth it, he thinks, to be able to fuck her like this occasionally, to feel his groin swell with need and then release himself into her willing, wet body, even if it meant certain death.
Afterwards, he cleans both of them and she rearranges her dress, buttons it back up, and smoothes it out neatly again. He fastens up his clothing and he bends to slip her shoes back on her feet, and she rises with a luxurious sigh and flicks her fan open.
"Thank you, Lei. That was...most enjoyable. Please don't work too hard this afternoon. I worry about you."
"Yes, your Majesty."
She exits, leaving him alone, and he returns to his work. In a few days, he knows she will return.
~FIN~