Author's Notes:

Maxon and America host their first State dinner party, but America devices a plan to make it a most unforgettable evening.

Written For: Guests, who suggested elements in this story scenario which I combined.

A special shout-out to my fan fiction bestie and beta-reader supergirls2008 who is attempting to convert me into a Will Herondale and James Carstairs fan. Saaay what?!

WARNING! This chapter contains graphic sexual content and adult language. If this sort of content offends you, please go read something else. You have been WARNED! All other readers please continue on and...

Enjoy!

~Sweetwaterspice

Maxon and America: Bedtime Stories

"After Dinner Delight"

"Don't tug your ear with anyone else. That's mine."

~ America

"Come in, My Royal Husbandness," I tease Maxon as he stands at the doorway. He looks handsome as always in a nicely fitted navy blue suit, white dress shirt and blue-gray tie. I must thank Harrison for making sure my husband looks just as good dressed in clothes as he does without them.

"What sort of mischievous deeds are you two cooking up now?" Maxon asks as he enters the Women's Room, cocking a brow at both Marlee and me.

Marlee is immediately on her feet giving Maxon a curtsy. Pressing a delicate hand to her chest once she's risen to stand fully, she flutters her lashes, "Why your Majesty. Whatever would give you the impression that your lovely wife and her best friend would be "cooking up" anything?"

"Oh…I don't know," Maxon shrugs, stuffing both hands inside his pockets. "Let me guess." He raises his eyes upwards. "Who will you try to get the Prince of Italy engaged to…this time?" He is looking at us now. "Or perhaps I'm a little weary after the stunt you two pulled on the Ambassador from New Asia knowing quite well her uhhh…lowered inhibitions to alcoholic beverages."

"That was America's idea." She points at me.

"Marlee!" I gasp, sitting up in my chair as if a bolt of lightning had just struck me.

"It was only a few…piña coladas." Marlee winces, remembering the incident leading the Ambassador to share with half our guests the birth mark she claimed proved her family was a distant relation to the Imperial throne. "I mean…how were we supposed to know a few fruity drinks would go to her head like that? They do drink sake in New Asia don't they?"

Maxon tosses her a scowl. "Or maybe this might trigger a memory. The time you two convinced the wife of the Prime Minister from England that her room was haunted by rebel ghosts!"

"Ohhh…Well, she deserved it!" Marlee tried to hide a snicker. "She was a bitch!"

"Marlee!" I try to squash the laugh ready to erupt from inside my belly. Maxon is not amused.

He glares at Marlee and then shoots me the same warning stare. I bite my lower lip. I should feel guilty but I can't really say I am. Maxon paces a few steps. "So, my dear wife and best friend, you can see why I'm a little nervous seeing this little "meeting of the minds" at the present moment and even more so with our guests arriving in less than four hours."

I get up from my seat and walk over to Maxon placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. "We promise. We're not plotting the next invasion of Swendway, okay?" I tease, slipping an arm between his. I wrap my hand around his bicep feeling the defined muscle underneath his suit coat. My mind wanders to the sweet kisses I laid on this very bicep this morning. Maxon's voice snaps me back from the images of my barely clad husband as I enjoyed him so deliciously for breakfast.

"I wonder…" Maxon replies wryly as his eyes catch my hand squeezing the defined muscle of his bicep. He blushes. His workout routine with the guards continues to pay marvelous dividends.

"We will be on our best behavior. I know how important this state dinner is to us…to Illéa…to you." I give him a sweet, gentle smile. As much as he teases, I know he trusts me not to play games with Marlee when it isn't appropriate, afterall, I am Queen. Placing a hand on his cheek I lean in to kiss those savory lips. He responds, pulling me to him. I feel the tension in his muscles release as his face softens, accepting my kiss and the world dissolves and it's just us. And our kiss slowly deepens.

"Ahhh…excuse me! Best friend still in the room!"

We break our kiss and both turn to look at Marlee who is blushing. After all of our girl talks, it seems she still gets embarrassed at our display of affection.

"Ugh…I have to remember to make my exits much quicker when you two are together," she says with an air of mock disgust as she shakes her head. She leans and fetches her magazine off the end table. "You two are just sickening."

I laugh. It's true. Whenever Maxon and I happen to be in the same room we can barely keep our hands off each other or lips as a matter of fact.

"Don't forget to come over to my room so I can see your dress!"

"I won't forget, trust me." She gives a flashing smile.

Marlee walks to the door and as soon as Maxon faces away from her she tugs on her ear, smiling wickedly at me. I flash her a "knock it off" look. Maxon catches it as the door closes.

"I saw that!"

"What?"

"That look!" He points an accusing finger at my face.

"What look?!" My voice sells me out. Guilty.

"That look you just gave Marlee. That look," his eyes narrow, "that tells me you two are up to something."

"You're imagining things."

"You're imagining things," Maxon mocks me, imitating my voice.

"Oh shut up." I slap his arm as I turn to my chair. I pick up the book I had been reading before Marlee joined me.

"America Schreave…what is…"

I'm back in his arms in a blink. "I promise, my love," I silence him with another kiss. "There is nothing for you to be concerned about. As a matter of fact, I can't wait to get my hands on you later tonight."

The corner of his mouth quirks. He's so adorable when I embarrass him like that.

"And why, pray-tell, do I have to wait until tonight?" His voice is husky. It warms me.

"Because…I'm already delayed. And Mary will be waiting for me."

"Mary can wait…" he smiles, his eyes clouded over with expectation. Maxon leans into my neck, kissing me tenderly.

"No, she can't, Maxon ," I giggle as he teases my earlobe. I'm beginning to unravel. Maxon's hands begin to slide down to my bottom. His hands are full of my ass.

"Are you sure? I can…make it quite worth your while."

With such daring affirmation he's ignited a blazing fire in my core.

He's kissing my jaw, his hands are on my back, cradling me against him. I wrap my arms around him. His aura is powerful indeed that I begin to lose myself in it.

There's a little voice in my head and red-flag warnings flicker behind my closed lids.

"Really, Maxon," I gasp for air, a kiss away from giving in. "We just did it this morning."

He looks at me with that devilish air and brown eyes that reach far into the depths of every part of me. I feel that telling shiver run down my spine to the very tips of my toes. I am pleasurably frozen. "Even better reason to do it now. We'll be too tired later."

I'm a ragdoll. Every limb of my body has turned into sets of lifeless joints, muscles and bones. I inhale a shaky breath as my book, with a thud, hits the floor. In my hazy brain I think, Marlee will forgive me.

"Oh! Pardon, Your Majesties," Paige cries as she enters the room. She gives a hasty curtsy and I can't be thankful enough for her timely intrusion. I really must device better strategic measures to fend off my husband's apparent talent to get me out of my clothes.

She apologizes again, her eye catching the book at Maxon's feet. Awkwardly, she picks it up, "Your book, my lady?" she questions, her cheeks tinged with red once our eyes meet. Even after all of this time, Paige hasn't gotten used to seeing me so intimate with the King.

"I'm sorry…to interrupt," she states a third time, handing me the book, "but Miss Mary is near a panic regarding your dress for tonight's dinner, my lady. She is insistent you come upstairs at once to have a fitting."

Maxon groans. "Now?!"

Paige's face flashes with uneasiness at Maxon's clearly disapproving tone. I try to ease her worry. "It's alright. Tell Mary I'm on my way."

With a quick curtsy and a "Thank you, my lady," and "Sorry…again…for…anyway," Paige rushes out the door as quickly as she had appeared.

"Of all the horrendous timing!" Maxon groans again as he secures my waist with his hands.

"I thought her timing was impeccable."

He laughs. "So, how close was I?"

"To what?"

"To getting my way?"

I blush. "Too close."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a dangerous…thing."

"I live for danger."

It's my turn to laugh. Oh…if you only knew.

"You are dangerous, my husband," I sigh, looking lovingly into his eyes. "In every…wicked sense of the word." My eyes fall to my palm tracing the lapel of his suit jacket. His body calls to me but I must resist.

I have plans.

"And you're certain you don't want to take advantage of me? I mean…I won't put up much of a fight, my queen."

I kiss his lips softly. "Later…"

The dinner party, a black tie affair, is in full swing as I meander through the bodies of guests stopping at intervals here and there to have a conversation or to meet yet another dignitary and his wife, brother, sister, daughter, mother or significant other. I feel as if my jaw is about to pop off from smiling so much.

Between and during conversations, my eyes scan the room to see if I catch a glimpse of Maxon. We had become inadvertently separated as he was whisked off by the Governor of Horundagua with a request to have his "Majesty's ear", which had become a running theme of the evening.

"His Majesty made a wonderful speech. Will you tell him so for me?" smiles the Baroness of Wales. I agree very graciously to pass on her message.

"Such a confident tone for such a young ruler. Magnificent. It's the sort of leadership we need to see from the next generation," adds her husband, the Baron.

I smile at his compliment, my heart full of pride that my husband's reputation was taking strong root among a more experienced and seasoned contingent.

"By the way you look stunning, Queen America,"the Baroness says, switching the conversation in a blink of an eye, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. "You do know how to fit a dress. I remember when I was your age. I had every head turn in a room," she giggles, pressing a gloved hand to her lips. "And with a body like that, nonetheless, I'm certain you do too."

I can't help but blush. "Why…thank you, Baroness."

"Heed these words of wisdom my dear. Stay away from chocolate. It's a sin, you know, how something so delicious could ruin such a magnificent figure."

'But, I love chocolate.' I rebuff but smile instead, thanking her for the tip.

Moving on from that uncomfortable conversation, I make my way over to a small alcove. Servants weave in and out of the crowd hands busy with trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of champagne. I smile, proud at the planning and all the work that had gone into hosting our first state dinner. Maxon and I had opted for the event not to be some sort of boring, stuffy affair. Dinner had been served and enjoyed at the adjacent hall, and now we were all gathered in The Great Room which was elegantly decorated with long tables draped in white linen and set with a variety of elegantly prepared small plates and desserts pleasing not only to the eye but the taste buds as well. The room exuded an air of elegance thanks to Sylvia's guiding hand. It had been a dreadful amount of work but seeing the results before me now, it had all paid off. Music played pleasantly in the background and soon according to my itinerary, Gavril would make the announcement that dancing was soon to begin. I take a deep breath, more of relief than tiredness. I wondered how Maxon was holding up?

"Wow…that dress is even more stunning under these lights. Fits you like a glove, America. Makes me want to smack your ass myself." I turn to Marlee as she comes up behind me, holding two glasses of champagne.

I gasp, suddenly self-conscious. "Do you think it's too much?"

My champagne sequined evening gown was Mary's idea. She thought the young Queen should look stylish and at the same time sexy. Marlee was right. It did fit like a glove, very tastefully hugging my curves in all the right places. The sheer neckline flowed into a beaded collar that fit like a choker around my throat. Paired with a set of diamond studs, bracelet and a pair of open-toe high heeled shoes to match, I looked like one of those models in a magazine. Celeste would've been proud. I felt a little uncomfortable in the get-up initially but Mary convinced me I didn't have to dress like I was wearing a sack of potatoes. "You only live once," she had told me. And the more I allowed the dress to become a part of me the more I agreed with her.

Marlee rolls her eyes as she hands me a glass. "Oh please! It's perfect. I think you've caught the eye of every man in this room. Except for Carter, you know. He doesn't look at you in that way."

"Good God! I certainly would hope not. He's like my brother."

"Speaking of the devil." Marlee raises her champagne glass to my brother, Kota, who is engaged in a conversation with the Countess of Bromwall's younger sister. He acknowledges her greeting with a simple nod.

"I wonder what scheme he's running now?" I ask under my breath.

"Well…maybe he's trying to convince her to pose for him in the nude or she may just find him charming. He does have the Singer genes, you know. Think, if you marry him off to royalty, you won't have to deal with any more of his nonsense."

"If I could only be so lucky," I smirk.

"And not to alarm you or anything but I saw your mamma quite engaged in a conversation with the Viscount of Mormont," Marlee sings.

"What?! Didn't his wife just die?"

"That doesn't mean that he's dead, America!" Marlee cries, laughing. "Your mother is quite a knock-out. I'm sure she may want a bit of male companionship."

"No. She doesn't. It hasn't even been a year since my father passed."

"Your mother has needs too, you know."

"Don't be disgusting!"

"Whatever…" she mumbles behind her glass of champagne.

Suddenly, as if the sea parted, I catch sight of my handsome husband and all thoughts of my mother and her love life are out the window. Our eyes meet and we smile at each other. He is engaged in a conversation with Prince Marco of Italy but it seems as if he has eyes only for me.

With a nudge of her elbow to my arm Marlee smiles, "I see who's caught your eye now."

I press a hand to my abdomen. My anticipation has suddenly shot through the roof. I don't even bother to reply to Marlee's comment.

"It's go time. Have fuuun…" she gives me a telling wink and soon disappears into the crowd.

I bite my bottom lip, my eyes fixated on Maxon. He smiles back at me.

I tug my ear.

The expression on his face is a mixture of disbelief and if I weren't standing across the room I would sure be able to see the flash of red on his face.

Tugging our ear – it had long been our secret signal. But no longer was it an indication of a need for private conversation but it had evolved into something far more intimate. A signal for pleasures of a more carnal nature. We had used it on several occasions. During his meetings, in the company of friends or family, as we passed each other in the corridors. It was our secret. And I loved our secret. But it had never been used under this setting and I wondered if Maxon would oblige.

He looked devilishly handsome in his black tux which had been tailored to fit him perfectly. His royal sash draped across his torso. His hair laid slick and every bit of him screamed hotness. I was one lucky girl. My heart was thumping in my chest and the sudden rush of heat through my body made me well aware of the ache between my legs.

To my disappointment, Maxon seemed to have returned to his conversation. A peal of laughter draws my attention for a moment and when I return to the spot where Maxon had been standing, he was gone. I deflate but I wasn't giving up.

I decide to leave my perch and mingle in the crowd once again. I have a few words with Sylvia and Gavril. Natalie and her new boyfriend, which one was this? Harry? Thomas? John? Thankfully, I am spared embarrassment as she introduces me to John.

"I think he might be the one," she whispers after John leaves our side to fetch her another glass of champagne. I couldn't help a memory flash of Natalie at our wedding. The girl loved a good party.

I smile. "Make sure you invite us to the wedding."

To my pleasant surprise as I leave Natalie, Maxon was about a stone throw's away. Our eyes meet once more and he gives me a crooked smile. I once again tug my ear. This time I can definitely see the twitch in his brows as he tries to reserve his composure during the conversation he was now holding. Unfortunately, I am quickly whisked away by my mother.

After visiting with the Viscount of Mormont who was a handsome man for his age and indeed quite taken by my mother's charms I needed a couple glasses of champagne myself. I scan the room once more for Maxon. It seemed like my plan was ready to be marked as a major fail!

Gavril's voice booms around the Great Room cutting into my thoughts as he announces, "On behalf of Our Majesties, King Maxon and Queen America we hope everyone is enjoying the evening." Applause rings throughout the room to my relief. "We do thank Your Majesties for hosting such a lovely event. Now to continue on with the evenings pleasant activities, Your Majesties, King Maxon and Queen America will open up the dance floor with the first dance."

Before I knew it, Maxon is at my side.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance?" he whispers in my ear, his hand on my lower back. My face heats in a flash.

"Absolutely."

As Maxon leads me to the dance floor, the music starts. Every eye in the room is on us. I feel self-conscious at the attention but Maxon doesn't seem bothered by it and oddly it soothes my worry. He gently places a hand on my lower back, my right hand secured in his left. He pulls me closer as we begin a slow dance. Just being in his arms makes me feel as if I'm floating, as if it's only he and me in this large, open space.

"You've gotten better," he teases as we dance along. I roll my eyes.

"Are you having a good time?" I ask, diverting the conversation from my dancing skills.

He smiles. "It's been a success. All because of you." The pride in his eyes warms me.

"And Sylvia," I add. "I can't take all of the credit."

"You look stunning by the way." He stares deeply into my eyes, conveying unspoken thoughts.

"Do I, now?" I ask, coyly.

"You do."

"You look quite dashing yourself," I assess, biting my lower lip.

"It's hard work being your arm candy and all."

I throw back my head in laughter.

"Well..., I would love to unwrap my arm candy if you'd only allow me."

"Mmmm... As tempting as you are in that dress, sweetheart. We'd be missed."

I had given the signal. He knew what I wanted. I cock a brow and teasingly stroke the hairline at the back of his head.

His eyes fall close and he pulls me in closer. His mouth at my ear, "You're not making this easy."

"That's my point. I want to make it... hard." I whisper in return.

Maxon growls in my ear which instantly makes we pool with need. I'm damp and throbbing. I pull back just enough for him to take note of my expression but instead of giving in, he offers a slight shake of his head, denying me with a wicked grin.

Guess he needed a little convincing. I lean into Maxon, whispering in his ear, "And, I'm not wearing any underwear."

He jerks his head to meet my eyes. His eyes are like saucers. In that moment I know I've won.

"W-What?" I can see the very telling shade of crimson on his face. His eyes flit around the room as if everyone present was privy to our private and very intimate conversation. "No...You wouldn't."

I merely cock my brow again and smile.

Maxon's expression is priceless. Shock. Disbelief. Soon, a flicker of desire.

He releases a breath followed by a chuckle. He's speechless and that makes my confidence soar. He shakes his head as he bites his lower lip, as if he still can't believe what I've told him.

"I thought you promised to be on your best behavior."

"Who says I'm not?"

Again he chuckles, looks up to the ceiling then rests his eyes back on mine. We continue the dance in silence, looking deeply into the other's eyes. Wicked, wicked thoughts inundate my mind and I'm certain he is feeling as hungry as I am now.

"Parlor." I indicate as the dance ends with a chorus of applause. Right on cue, Gavril invites all of our guests to join us on the dance floor. Before I can blink, I am once again whisked away this time by the Prime Minister of England and both Orabella and Noemi, our Italian friends, lay claim to Maxon in an instant and I hear each unashamedly requesting they be his next dance partners.

Needless to say, retrieving my husband was no easy task but I was determined. I hoped the little mental image I had left him with on the dance floor was enough to encourage him. It was. Whenever I looked in his direction he was staring at me though he could carry on a conversation simultaneously. But I knew that look. He wanted me.

He tugs his ear.

I tug mine.

And I slip out the door.

I gather the material of my dress to avoid tripping on the hem and make my way quickly to the parlor room that has become my favorite place to pass time alone with Maxon. My heart is ready to burst through my gown and several sensations are assaulting my body at once.

The activity is scarce along the hallway, just a few servants busying themselves with duties and a few guests who take the time to curtsy and bow. I smile but make a bee line to the parlor.

Once inside, I manage to take a breath and lean against the door.

'America, you're absolutely out of your mind.' My mother's voice chimes in my head. I press my cold hands to my cheeks because in this case, my mother would be undeniably correct.

I hear the knob turn on the door. My heart convulses.

It's Maxon.

No sooner do I open the door, he slips in and I'm in his arms and my chest heaves with expectation and his lips, oh those lips are sealed over mine and I'm tasting the sweetness of champagne on his tongue and inhale the smell of his cologne. I clutch the sleeves of his tux as Maxon pins me against the door. I let out a shameless, wanton plea at his show of force. I feel like an animal wanting to devour as my fingers slip into that gorgeous head of hair. His body is strong and hard and fully pressed against mine and I hear a groan of desire escape his lips as he moves to layer kisses along my jaw.

"Is it true?" he asks huskily against the corner of my mouth as he hikes up my dress.

I shudder and I'm breathless and I can't reply as the cool evening air skims my thighs. Maxon's hands are eager as they slide upwards. He pauses. "Holy hell. It is." He releases a staggered breath as if he can't believe what his hands are feeling or not feeling as a matter of fact. His hands are on my bare ass, roaming over my rounded hills.

He takes a step back to look. My dress is bunched over his forearms. He closes his eyes. Opens them. "God damn it, America."

I bite my lower lip. I don't respond. I'm reveling in his reaction. I drown in it. He looks at me and his gaze is fired. I know the look I wear…that of nothing but a naughty nymph.

His eyes drift to my sex. Bare for his eyes only. He curses and slips his hand between my thighs.

My legs tremble as Maxon touches me. Right where I need him to. Right where my desire for him overflows. And I close my eyes, my head resting against the door. I hold on to the door knob, the only thing keeping me anchored to this world.

"You feel perfect, America." His words make me heady as he boldly explores me. Maxon's fingers are like that of a maestro's conducting a well timed orchestra. As he penetrates me deep with his finger. As he teases my clit and gives it a little pinch. It's almost my undoing as I cry out only to be silenced by his mouth. I instinctively grip his shoulders, gasping as our mouths part for just a moment only to clash once again. He kisses me with hunger but I need more. We both do.

Maxon strips off his royal sash and I help with the jacket. He moves to the buckle on his belt and my eyes are glued to his fingers, making my heart race. I've been stripped of my senses but I'm also very hot and bothered and very, very turned on. And I don't care about anything but my Maxon and how ready he is to fuck me. His pants are down.

He is kissing me again as he hikes my dress back up, then his erection is brushing my inner thigh. The heat of his organ against my leg, makes my head whirl.

"We can't be gone for long," he tells me.

"I know," I pant, my hand already reaching for his erection, stroking slowly up and down his engorged shaft. "Ohhh, God you feel so good."

Maxon in one motion whirls me around to face the door. My face is planted against the wood. His arm wraps around my waist from behind. My legs are spread like an easel as he pulls on my waist making my bottom jut out towards him. I feel my arousal down my inner thighs and the press of his cock at my entrance.

"How I'm supposed to relegate treaties and speak of policies when…" he speaks in my ear and sighs as he buries himself inside my heat, his current line of thought leaving that instant. He groans. I moan feeling how amazingly hard he is. "America…damn. God damn, America."

He wastes no time as he begins to move hungrily inside of me. His excitement escalates with each hard, banging thrust he's giving me. I absorb them consecutively, using my flat palms against the door as a cushion for my body. Maxon grabs my hips, the sounds of his pelvis against my bottom makes me shiver and I feel my clit tremble in response and soon I explode in an orgasm. All the tension of the evening spilling from me. I utter my delight, biting down on my index finger to quell my cries from reaching beyond the closed door. Every part of me is hypersensitive, having been blanketed with a shroud of eroticism. I feel Maxon withdraw and his tongue is between my legs tasting my honeyed folds. Instinctively I reach behind me for the back of his head as he dives further into my depths with his tongue and a finger, then a second follows suit.

I'm in absolute ecstasy and I beg him to come back to me. I have a need and my body ripples with waves as if it were stuck in a riptide of spasms and quakes. Maxon obliges. He grabs hold of my hips roughly which shoots bolts of electricity through every digit attached to my extremities. I suck in a breath only to hear it carry my voice in shouts of praise and thanksgiving, his erection once again embedded deeply, fitting snugly within my walls.

Maxon's body is draped over mine and he's kissing me and telling me how much I blow his mind and other parts of his anatomy as well. I can't help the feel of elation and at the same time falling even deeper in love with him. We are both bound in the throes of heat and passion, mere slaves to the calling of our desires.

"God damn it you drive me crazy." His voice is raspy and all alpha male. My eyes roll to the back of my head as another orgasm rips through me, my clit dancing in euphoric spasms as I audibly let Maxon know he's brought me to Shangri-La yet again. He follows. I feel the strain of his body against mine. He grunts with the force of his climax and I welcome his delivery as he empties himself inside of me.

"Oh my God! That was fantastic," I say once I catch a breath. His forehead leans against the back of my head and he's still gripping my hips hard as if he is still basking in the aftermath of his powerful climax. He lets out a weary breath.

"On your best behavior, huh?" he teases.

I can't help but giggle. "Always."

After a couple of minutes we pull ourselves together. Maxon is again fully dressed and I make sure that everything on him is in order including his blonde mane.

We share an embrace and a parting kiss before he is gone.

I step to the gilt mirror hanging on the wall. I dig into my clutch for my lipstick and soon enough I'm headed back to the party. Fully satisfied and full of Maxon.

"So…," Marlee saunters over having caught up with me once I return to the festivities. "How was your after dinner delight?" She sips on her champagne.

I give her a sideways glance. The smile on my face, telling.

"Wonderful."

"Yours?"

"Divine."

I grab a glass of champagne from a servant passing by.

"Here's to us." I turn to Marlee as our glasses clink.

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