"May I cut in?" The timber of Joseph's voice was a welcomed sound. All night, Clarisse had been dancing with dignitaries, heads of state, princes, kings, and everybody else in between. As the former Queen of Genovia, she felt it prudent that she should dance with all of these men, but her heart and arms longed to dance with only one man. The man who had finally decided to rescue her. She gave a slight nod of her head to the Japanese ambassador and soon found herself in her husband's arms.
Joseph pulled his wife against him and began dancing to the waltz that had just started. Clarisse rested her head on his shoulder and gently sighed "thank you." She was rewarded with a gentle kiss to her forehead and her husband pulling her closer to him. Joseph had watched his wife all night. He knew that she felt obligated in her role as former Queen, and just as he felt obligated by his role of former Head of Security, he stood on the sidelines observing people. But tonight, it had been different. She was no longer his queen, and he was no longer her head of security. He no longer had to hide his affection for her – she was his wife, his lover, and his life.
Prior to this evening, he would always watch her dance with other men, creating a need in him to taker her into his arms. Most balls and grand functions he could control his desires for the evening. He would then live out his fantasies of being with her in the privacy of his bedroom, with the pale substitution of his hands. But there had been a few occasions in which he simply could not resist her. There had been the last Independence Day ball in which King Rupert, may he rest in peace, had attended. He had asked Clarisse to dance that night. It was shortly after he had been named head of security and it had been at the King's urging that he had even had the nerve to ask her. That had been two years prior to the king's death. That was the night that changed it all for Joseph.
He had been her personal bodyguard for twelve years prior to that evening and had had cause to hold her on occasion. Once, as shots rang out in France, he had pushed her to the ground covering her body with his own. He had led her through crowds, guarded her through the onslaught of reporters, helped her up on the rare occasion that she tripped – but in all that time, never had he embraced her as he had that night. Holding her in his arms that evening, his defenses had been shattered and he instantly knew that there would be no other woman for him than Clarisse. He had felt guilty that night as he took pleasure in the fantasy of her bringing him release. Sure, he had fantasized about her on occasion, but that had been the first time that it had only been her face that he thought about. Only her arms did he long to be in, her smile that he longed to see, her eyes that he longed to see reflecting love for him. After he had brought himself to climax using only his fantasies, he had sobbed for what could never be. She was the Queen of Genovia, married to the king, and she held his heart and soul.
Little did Joseph know that in under ten years from that night, she would be his wife dancing in his arms, and that his fantasies could be played by the real Clarisse, not his worthless hands and vivid imagination. As Clarisse burrowed closer into her husband, Joseph couldn't help but think about the previous night. Her discovery of his hasty resignation, the hurt he had seen in her eyes as she sat on the couch. He had taken a vow to protect the crown - and in just under five months of marriage, he had hurt the crown's emotions. Admittedly, she was no longer Queen of Genovia, but to Joseph she would always be the Queen. His memory floated from the hurt and pain that he had caused to the absolute rapture he had given her just a few short hours later.
Their first coupling had been wonderfully blissful. Clarisse holding his body tight to hers as he drove them to completion. Their second had been quite playful, each teasing the other with caresses and kisses that drove them wild, until finally their need drove them to satisfaction. Their third union had been wild, hard, and fast. As evidenced by the deep scratches she had placed upon his back. It did his ego good to know that he could make his wife so frenzied that she clawed him in her need. But this morning – he had not expected that. Sure, they had pleased each other orally a few times, but never had he blacked out. The look on her face as she had sized him up had been priceless, and then the feel of her teeth, tongue, and ….Joseph suddenly became aware of how confined his pants had gotten in the last few minutes.
He caressed his wife's back and gently called her name. Clarisse lifted her head and looked into her husband's eyes and was taken back by the sheer lust she saw in them. He hoarsely whispered "I want to make love to you, my Queen." She was surprised at how a simple dance could stir his desires, but as she continued their dance, he shifted and she suddenly felt his motivation. Her eyes widened and again she shifted and confirmed her assessment, he was rock hard. Joseph recognized the look of shock on his wife's face. And truth be known, he felt rather guilty about asking her to make love. After all, this morning she had confessed that she was quite sore from their earlier escapades during the week, and here he was asking her again to make love. He felt as if he should say something, "I'm sorry, it's just…" but he didn't get to finish.
Clarisse caressed his cheek and leaned into his ear with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. She whispered, "Your demand as head of security pleases me. Give your Queen fifteen minutes, and your request will be granted." Her hand moved from his face to his chest, "I would like a private audience with you…" her hand continued down to his abdomen, "as Queen and staff member." Her hand grazed his manhood, and he almost jumped. She chuckled, "or should I say stiff member?" She turned to leave the ballroom, swaying her hips as she went. Clarisse had never felt so brazen or so sensual in her life, and she knew that her husband would be surprised with what she had in mind.
Joseph had finally calmed himself down enough to be able to leave the dance floor. He knew Charlotte had been observing him, but couldn't bring himself to look at his friend. He knew that his wife had discussed last week's observed interlude with Charlotte earlier in the day, and like his wife, he was still having a difficult time looking the young woman in the eye. Dismissing the guards outside their suite was one thing, but to have somebody actually walk in on them was another. Joseph looked down at his watch – eight minutes to go. He looked at the various couples dancing, and noted with a small smile that Nicolas had cut in to dance with Queen Mia. He couldn't help but feel proud of the young woman who stood up for herself against an antiquated law. He looked at his watch again – seven minutes. He knew whatever his wife was planning would be worth the wait, but could he really wait fifteen minutes? He mustered up the courage to look at Charlotte, and was dismayed when he saw a smirk grace her lips.
Who was he to feel ashamed that he was in love with his wife? She stirred creativity, passion, ingenuity, and his soul like no other woman had or ever could. She was graceful, sincere, honest, loving, mischievous, and a vixen. The way she smiled at him, the way her breath caught as he leaned in to kiss her, the way her eyes shone with love for him, the sounds she made when he would pleasure her, the way she would scream his name upon climax. Again, Joseph felt his arousal renew itself, and he looked at his watch – four minutes to go. Again, he thought of his wife, the way her freckles gave way to pure alabaster breasts, her muscular thighs, the dip where her shoulder met her neck. Joseph couldn't take it any longer, with one last look around the ballroom; he took his leave to find his Queen.
As he walked to their suite, he noted that she had already dismissed the guards. Although he agreed with her course of action, he was a bit dismayed that she had been unprotected for the past 14 minutes. However, at this point in time, he was rather glad that there was no one around to see his aroused state. He approached their door, and he could feel the anticipation building in him. He didn't know what she had planned, but no matter what it was, he was sure it would be worth the wait. He opened the door and was greeted by the subdued lighting of a fire and a few scant candles. He closed the door, and began to approach the bedroom, but halted at her command. "You requested an audience with me?"
He turned, and could barely make out her form behind her desk. It was a dark corner, and all he could really see was the firelight dancing off of her tiara and in her eyes. His eyebrows shot up as he thought: role-playing? They had never done this, and quite honestly, he found it highly erotic. He moved towards her voice and replied, "Yes your majesty."
"And the nature of this audience?" Again, the tiara beckoned to him like a beacon in the night.
He kneeled about five feet in front of her desk. "If it pleases you, I would very much like to make love to you."
"And who are you to request such a thing from me?" Her voice was low and sultry.
"I am but a servant your majesty. A servant to Genovia and to her Queen." He bowed his head.
"Then you are in the wrong room, sir. The Queen of Genovia's room is at the opposite end of the palace." She scoffed. Clarisse stood and began walking towards her husband. The cool satin covering her and the heated temperature of her body were doing delicious things to her libido. As much as she wanted him, she was enjoying the fantasy, and wanted it to continue.
Joseph was slightly confused. He still kneeled in front of her desk and was surprised when she stood up. As she walked towards him, he could finally see more of her in detail. Her body was draped in something that reflected the dim lighting. She walked past him towards their suite; he grabbed a hold of the fabric as she passed: satin. His mind raced at the possibilities, and realization dawned on him. He stood and quickly grabbed her around the waist, her back to his chest and he whispered in her ear. "Forgive me, you majesty. I ask of you, may I serve you? I have been but a lowly inhabitant of your domain, and did not know that you were in residence this evening. You are…" he kissed her shoulder as his hands moved to cup her breasts "first and foremost…" he nipped at her ear "my supreme ruler." His hands moved up to just above her breasts. "You are my Queen…" he growled "my Queen of the sheets."
His hands untied the sheets between her breasts. Her hands held his in place and whispered. "Are you sure that your loyalties are with me and not some other Queen?"
His hands moved to cup her breasts again, and he licked the little dip at her neck. She leaned back against him, arching her neck to give him more room for his oral assault. He hoarsely whispered "oh yes" and accentuated it with a thrust of his hips against her.
She moaned her approval as his hands did magical things to her breasts. He began tugging on the sheet that she was wrapped in, and she moved from his embrace, turning to face him and to unwind herself from the sheet just a little bit. She looked him in the eye and replied, "then your request shall be granted." He held onto the sheet as she spun slowly towards their bedroom door once, twice, three times and she was through the door. Joseph stood holding a red satin sheet in his hand and an impish grin on his face. He released the sheet, and began undoing his tie as he walked towards the bedroom. It too had been decorated with candles. Joseph left a trail of clothing as he made his way to the bed. His Queen lay amongst the pillows with nothing on but her tiara. He crawled on the bed towards her, kissing first her toes, then her thighs, her curls, her navel, her breasts, her neck, and finally as their lips met, a moan escaped from her.
His kiss was hungry and insistent, and she opened her mouth to his invading tongue. Clarisse wasn't at all surprised by his desire, after feeling him on the dance floor, then teasing him as she left, and with the little seduction she had set up, she was surprised that he hadn't entered her immediately. His fingers quickly found her breasts and tweaked her nipples into an achingly pert state. Joseph began rocking against her, his manhood teasing her, gently bumping the point of her desire. She groaned her satisfaction as she grasped tightly to his back. Joseph took this as his cue and swiftly joined their bodies, keeping the rhythm he had set earlier. Clarisse arched her back and the sudden sensation, breaking their kiss.
Joseph looked at his wife. The tiara that shifted as it reflected the light to the rhythm of their lovemaking, the slight bounce to his wife's breasts as his body met hers, the love that was in her eyes as she looked at him. His hand moved to the point of her desire, bringing her closer to release. He moved faster within her, and her nipples grazed against his chest, sending waves of pleasure down to his groin. Suddenly, her legs pulled him hard against her and he cried out as his climax overcame him. In the haze of his crescendo, he realized that his wife had not been with him. And contrary to his body's orders to slow down, he was determined to bring his wife to the same glorious crest that he had experienced. He moved faster and leaned over her for added leverage. He pinched the point of her desire as he whispered, "my Queen." This sent Clarisse to flashpoint and she bit his shoulder. The biting of his flesh and the erotic sound of his wife sent Joseph over the precipice again in a mind-numbing climax that robbed him of consciousness for the second time that day.
A/N: And breathe. This chapter has been brought to you by a happy muse who was fed Cheetos puffs and Dr. Pepper, the unofficial sponsors of Genovia.