THE QUEEN'S BEDROOMS
HOURS LATER
At twelve-past-three in the morning, Shuri is wide awake, staring at her high ceiling.
She cannot stop thinking about the look on Steve's face when he held her close by Bast's mural.
That look in his honest, impassioned eyes. Smoldering, blazing, so heated she felt he'd burn her.
She's never seen him like this. Felt him like this.
His solid, warm body tense. His strong hands applying pressure, pulling her into his orbit.
The way his voice lowered to a rugged baritone. Daring her. His words more intimate and revealing of his inner thoughts than any joking innuendo they'd ever exchanged as friends. Are they even still friends anymore? Had she ruined that? Would he?
He wants to be more. There's no longer any doubt of that in her mind.
In truth, Shrui struggles to know exactly what she wants.
Be honest with yourself. You've been baiting him. You've been too damn curious for your own good. Why did you have to go and pull on that thread? Her mind frets at her as she lays in the dark.
Part of her has always seen it, hidden just under the surface of his obliging attention, his gentle gaze, his endless patience for her teasing. The way he's always there to answer whenever she calls - whenever - day or night, sleeping or not, and often in the middle of the night.
Every time, he looks glad to see her. Like she's tossing him a life jacket to keep him from drowning.
And that part of her that is always curious, always hungry to know, just kept pulling and pulling.
Without even noticing, she got used to the way his eyes lit up when they talked, his easy smile, his deep, charming voice - and now she depends on it. Even craves it. Especially during times like now, when her thoughts are a jumble, a hurricane, a neverending racket preventing her from sleep. She was telling the truth at the gala. His voice, his kindness, everything about him soothes and makes her feel safe, like he'll catch her before she goes spinning off of the face of the Earth into space.
But it's not that simple. It can never be.
Deep down inside, where she keeps her grief buried in an iron box wrapped in chains and bolted shut, she longs for her Ingcuka. Though they never made it to a place where they could be together freely, openly, Bucky willingly became hers over the two and a half years he spent in her kingdom, learning from and protecting her. All of him, he confessed one beautiful night under the stars; their first time fully embracing their love for one another. His eyes, just as kind as Steve's, if not more so. His deadly skills. His unwavering loyalty. His quiet reverence and devotion. His mind, body, heart, and soul. All yours, doll, he told her over and over as they made love. Sweet Sunshine, he would call her, I'm all yours.
And he would wrap her up in his arms, covering her entire body with his, making her feel safe, almost invincible as long as they were together, whether they could be open about it or not. Nothing would ever break them apart. She was so young, so in love, so naive to believe she'd never lose him.
The queen crushes her eyes shut, holding her breath, forcing those memories away into the dark recesses of her mind again. Thinking of Bucky is too painful. Thinking of losing him, and T'Challa, and half her kingdom is always, always too painful. Even after four long years.
They're gone forever and all she has left is a kingdom to shepherd out of darkness, her survivor's guilt, and her inexplicable desire to hear that old fashioned Brooklyn drawl in Steve's voice, see that kindness reflected back at her in his eyes.
Shuri moans quietly, angry with herself. Frustrated to the point of tears.
She can have anyone. All she needs to do is step outside her palace and beckon with a look or a command. Instead, she chose to project her desires across the Atlantic, to a man who is grieving just as hard as she is. Come to me, she called...and he answered.
It was that feeling, that need, driving her to keep calling over the years; keep teasing, keep pulling him toward her...come to me, she said with her late-night calls and lavish gifts. Come to me, she bade the other loyal American super-soldier when she chose the gown she wore tonight.
"Selfish. Reckless." She mutters to no one in her practically chasmal bedroom, clawing at the soft sheets in her lush queen-sized bed. Her empty, lonely bed.
She wanted him close, she got her wish, and then she ran away. She didn't expect him to say those things. So openly. So unequivocally. Not a boy scout like Steve Rogers. But she liked it. So much, in fact, that it frightened her.
You make it impossible for a man not to fall in love with you, your Majesty.
I can see it...why Bucky fell so...damn...hard.
Hard.
She could feel Steve was becoming aroused when he held her close.
In truth, she's been thinking about that part just as much as everything else. She's nearly soaked through the crotch of her panties, thinking about it so intensely.
She lays on her back, her mind showing her a perfect memory of his burning blue eyes. She can still feel his caressing, clutching fingers heating her skin through the lace of her dress. His massive chest pushing into hers. His thick, pink lips inching closer and closer.
Shuri realizes she isn't breathing, and inhales deeply, warmth fluttering in her chest, spreading through her to stimulate the rest of her senses. Slithering down between her legs to heat her core, make her squirm and rub her smooth thighs together for some phantom satisfaction.
The guilt, the grief, the aching and longing for a deep love she barely got to experience and might never again...none of it can drown out the prowling, steamy - and yes, selfish - desire she feels when she thinks of Steve Rogers in that damned blue velvet tux. Begging her with his serious azure eyes for permission to fuck her into oblivion.
And why shouldn't she let him? Why shouldn't she take what she wants, too?
What would Ingcuka think? Steve was his friend.
Yeah. He was.
"But you're gone forever, aren't you, my love?" Shuri whispers.
Her words float away and disappear into the spacious, luxurious surroundings. There is no one to answer her. Only the guards posted outside, silent and vigilant but distant all the same. She knows them all, grew up watching them train, knows their families. She loves them, as she loves all her people, but it isn't the same as what she found with Bucky. Her people love her like fire loves oxygen. They both fuel and deplete her. Reaching toward her for her guidance, her wisdom, her strength. Lifting her up, holding her tightly, at times to the point of suffocation, not wishing to lose their queen the way they lost two of their kings. Demanding she never disappear. Crying out to her to heal them of their trauma. Yes, she loves them and is determined never to leave them, but all the while she longs for some small form of escape. Her work cannot be that for her the way it used to when she was young.
There is no Big Brother or Baba to guide her, no White Wolf to back her up and then love her up.
Her mother waits and watches for her to leave her solitude, stop hiding behind her work, find love, find peace...find the will to start a family, continue their legacy.
All Shuri wants in this moment is to feel something other than grief, confusion, guilt, and frustration.
She bites her lip and squirms some more, closing her eyes to picture Steve's face as he danced with her, held her, confessed to her…damn it.
With a shallow huff of breath, the young queen sits up straight, her long twists falling across her shoulders to swing into place against her back. She looks around, the shadows taunting her.
A fissure of heat has opened up deep within her, oscillating outward, making her skin feel hypersensitive everywhere. Her thoughts begin to turn toward acceptance. She begins to make up her mind.
Whatever my Queen desires.
Shuri begins to picture Steve Rogers covering her body with his. Kissing her all over. Holding her down, fucking her hard.
She sighs, tosses her covers back, and gets up out of bed. She doesn't think anymore, she just moves - grabbing her long, flowing satin robe and throwing it on. She pulls her hair out of the collar to fall across her shoulders and walks to the doors closing her off from the rest of the palace.
Her personal Dora bodyguard, Idi, opens her eyes from a quick power nap as soon as the queen steps a toe outside the room. Idi straightens up and steps forward, concern filling her large hazel eyes as she whispers, "My queen, are you alright?"
Shuri holds up a hand for Idi to stop and speak no more, which the Dora immediately obeys. She reaches out for Idi's free hand and pulls her close so she can speak as low as possible. "I can't sleep, but I'm fine. I'm going for a walk, alone."
Shuri lingers in their eye contact, making sure Idi understands that she is to tell no one and that her queen does not wish to be disturbed.
She nods dutifully, squeezes Shuri's hand, and steps back to reassume her guard post. Shuri pauses to watch as Idi taps her spear gently, the sound a soft vibration instead of the usual booming signal. They wait...and then there are a series of corresponding, though very faint, taps in response echoing toward them through the cavernous halls.
Shuri nods her thanks and hurries away toward the guest wings.
The moonlight and the lights of the kingdom below halo her as it cascades through the large windows she passes by. Thankfully, neither her mother or any of the other guests appear to be awake or around.
Every guard she passes dutifully turns their heads so that they cannot see her. If they cannot see her, then she isn't out roaming the palace in the middle of the night, headed to spend the rest of it with one of her most recognizable guests. Palace secrets almost never get leaked to the Wakandan press or anywhere else but Shuri can't be too careful. Especially given the fact that they have so many international guests and members of the media in the kingdom right now.
Those concerns disappear, however, as she closes in on the wing where Steve's guestrooms are located.
She hesitates at the doors. His guard T'Kete frowns at the sight of her before turning his head respectfully.
Shuri takes a deep breath, preparing for rejection after her behavior at the gala. She raises her hand to knock quietly. After a few beats of silence, she knocks a little louder.
One of the doors opens softly and he's standing before her, tall and shirtless, hair mussed, brow and jaw set into a deep frown. His eyes rove over her from head to toe and linger inside hers, still blazing. He looks wide awake, as she knew he would be. But he doesn't speak. He's angry. Or hurt. Or both. He's been thinking about their last moments at the gala this whole time, too. She watches his jaw jump as he grits his teeth and swallows hard.
After a few agonizing seconds in which she's afraid he might actually close the door on her, he steps back and lets her walk in past him.
Steve's gaze follows Shuri into the dark room, making her heart flutter in her chest. She lets hers roam her surroundings, noticing how neatly he has unpacked (not storing any of his things in the walk-in), that he has taken and used many of the gifts from his wagon already, and that he's got the tux jacket lain across one of the large, plush armchairs near the bed. She sees the telltale signs that he's been tossing and turning in that bed all night, as she was in hers. They are so in sync it's scary.
He closes the door and walks around to face her, taking his time. She watches his tall, brawny frame move in the shadows until he comes to a stop a few paces from the bed. His deep blue eyes still burn as they prowl the length of her body again before meeting hers. His fingers curl into loose fists, causing the veins in his biceps to push up against the smooth surface of his champagne skin.
At first there is just silence, and the two of them, staring at each other. Everything they didn't say miles away beneath Bast's mural fills the atmosphere around them. Thick, almost inebriating.
When the tension feels like it's going to burst, Steve starts to say something, but she cuts him off.
"Please..." she utters, her chest rising and falling as she pulls in shallow breaths to calm her raging desire to jump into his arms. She needs to get this out first.
Steve closes his mouth, standing at attention, his broad, hairless chest mimicking hers as he also breathes to still himself. In sync. Scary. Alluring. Like magnets, only kept from snapping together by sheer force of will. Her will. This choice is hers; it always has been. She has always had the power here, and they both know it. Shuri is no longer afraid of it.
"I'm sorry. For leading you on. Teasing you. Walking away when you were so honest with me."
He says nothing, watching, waiting. The anger she saw flashing at her when he first opened the door has cooled at least. She knows he appreciates hearing it. She saw the look of utter disappointment on his face when she rejected him after he threw caution to the wind and took the first step.
"But I meant every word I said to you. Your friendship means the world to me. I don't want to lose it. I also," Shuri swallows, trying to find the words, "I don't want this to be about me and Bucky. Or you and Bucky. I don't want all we have between us to be our fucked up pasts...what we lost and cannot have back. I just can't. Do you get that?"
Steve is silent for a beat, taking in her words. He eyes her with barely contained anticipation.
"Then, what?"
He steps forward. She blinks hard at the look in his eyes, desire heating her as if someone dropped the sun into the room with them. "What…?"
Another step. And he kneels slowly. Easing down onto his knees, one by one. Gazing up at her with intense concentration, reverence, lust.
"What do you want, your Majesty? What do you need?"
Emboldened by the look he's giving her, Shuri steps toward him, closing the distance.
She's towering over him, now. He's staring up at her as if he wants nothing more in the world than for her to command him to pleasure her. Slowly, she reaches up to lace her fingers into the short, soft, fine hair at the back of his neck. Steve closes his eyes, a soft huff escaping his thick lips. His body goes rigid as a chill spreads through him when she rakes her nails gently across his scalp. He opens his eyes and glares, unleashing the full weight of his intentions in his expression.
The look on his handsome, dead serious face makes Shuri so turned on that all she can picture is that face between her legs; those lips kissing and tending to her by now extremely yearning sex.
"I want you to thank me for your gifts, Captain," she commands quietly.
Steve exhales, reaches out, and grips her by the hips. He pulls her toward him. His hands are so big that they easily cover the circumference of her petite frame, his fingertips practically touching at the small of her back. "Yes, ma'am..." he whispers adoringly, his warm breath making her stomach flutter through the thin fabric of her negligee. Shuri lets her robe slip off her shoulders, rubbing her leg against his groin, and he needs no further instructions.
Standing in one smooth, nimble movement, he picks her up as if she weighs practically nothing, planting her on his hips. She wraps her legs around his rock hard body eagerly and croons at him as soon as she feels the contact. He's burning up from the inside out, smooth as silk, and sturdy as an oak. Steve's heated lips find hers, drinking her in, slipping his tongue inside when she pants for more. He moans when she writhes against him, desperately seeking to feel his hardness at her core. He gives her what she wants, shifting her with two firm handfuls of her ass so that the tip of his long, bulging erection rubs firmly against her, right where she wants him. She bites and pulls a little on his bottom lip, causing Steve to grip her even tighter.
"Your queen wants your tongue...mmm….now."
Growling in response, Steve wheels Shuri around and carries her the short distance to the bed. Easing her down, he kisses her intensely, slowly, his tongue lapping at hers with long, deep strokes as his warm body sinks down onto the bed with her, his big hands holding her in place. He caresses and squeezes her ass and thighs and breasts through her black satin and lace lingerie, all the while kissing her into the mattress with the overflowing force of his desire for her.
Shuri lets her fingers trace the powerful, shifting muscles across his back to rake them through his hair again, causing him to shiver. In response, he moves his hot kisses from her tender lips to her delicate neck and collarbone, practically inhaling indulgent mouthfuls of her dusky, spicy-sweet skin.
He licks and kisses her as if in a trance, all the while rocking his hips into her, sliding his trapped erection against her, causing her legs to fall open beneath him in agonized anticipation.
Steve steadily makes his way, leaving a trail of kisses, licks, and little love bites in his wake, down into the deep V decolletage of her delicate slip of a negligee. Anchoring himself with one arm pressed into the bed, he uses the other's fingers to pull the strap off one of her shoulders. He tugs until her breast is exposed, her nipple instantly hardening beneath his steamy, covetous sigh.
He gives her his tongue, licking her nipple into his mouth, swirling it around and around, winding her up until she has to dig her nails into his flesh to cope. He lets her go only briefly to watch the goosebumps rise on her areola at the behest of his work before he starts a barrage of soft bites and quick, intense suckles between his heated lips. He continues until she's gasping for escape. She can only grind against him; their warm bodies sliding into each other. His a tantalizing valley of hard and soft, muscled and smooth. Hers slender, slinky, writhing and practically purring beneath him like a velour cat in heat.
Steve takes his time, concentrating, removing the other strap and repeating the same torture. He switches from one small, pert breast to the other, making Shuri feel so abuzz with longing that she squeezes her eyes shut and whimpers at him.
"Please, Steve…!" she begs, though she has no idea what she's begging for. Her mind is so cloudy with desire that she can scarcely think at all, let alone form coherent commands.
Steve merely smiles, his pupils blown open wide, so drunk on her that he has to go back in for more, dipping his head to attack her hard nipples and buoyant, sable flesh again. He keeps it up until she's so wet that she's practically creaming for him already. She's been so touch starved that he just might make her come from sucking on her tits alone. She's so tuned up that if he keeps plucking her strings without mercy like this, she will come all over his thigh in a minute.
She grabs him by the hair at the back of his neck and pulls, causing his sucking lips to release her tortured nipple with a juicy pop. "Lower, for Bast's sake! You trying to kill me?"
He smirks and pushes his erection - thick, long, and pulsing hard - into her, causing her eyes to roll shut and all impatience to melt away. Shuri loses herself, trying to thrust her hips under his considerable weight so that she can feel the intoxicating friction she longs for.
"I've had about eighty years to practice patience and build some stamina, your Majesty. My tongue's all yours, all night…" he breathes, reaching up to gently pull her fingers from his hair.
He sits up on his haunches, robbing her of his delicious body heat, but giving her the friction she's desperate for as his heavy, imprisoned dick lands atop her quivering clit.
She gasps, thrusting for purchase she won't find. Steve takes her hands and puts them above her head, propping some fluffy pillows there for her to grab onto. He licks his thick pink lips.
"But if you don't mind, I kinda had my heart set on tasting…" he leans in to nip and lick at her pouting lips, "...every…" he does the same to her neck and collarbone, groaning low in his throat, "...sweet...gorgeous..." and her breast is in his mouth again, making her squirm and try to run away from the intense heat and wet swirl of his tongue, "mmmm...inch of you."
She swallows, her pussy practically begging for those lips, that tongue, and hopefully soon, that python straining against the inferior fabrics of his boxer briefs and her soaked panties.
Steve kisses his way down as far as he can until he has to lean up again and pull her negligee over her head, tossing it to the floor. He lets his hands roam across her petite, comely frame, squeezing and caressing her, leaning in to kiss and lick and nip some more, lighting a thousand little electrical fires all over her body. He marks her breasts, ribs, and stomach, licking inside and nibbling around her belly button, the tops of her hips and thighs...until Shuri is cursing and so close to grabbing his head again to force it between her legs.
He gets the hint, smiling up at her again, and reaches down to tug off her sopping wet underwear.
Shuri sits up on her elbows a little to watch him, opening her legs in a wide V. She bites her lip and lifts her hips to aid him as he maneuvers the wet little thing off. The breeze from the open balcony windows caresses her, making her shiver. Steve stares down at her sex, his pupils wide, his pink lips parted slightly. He watches the damp fabric peel away, revealing her smooth, milky wet lips and dark pink clit, soaked with her frothy precum dripping a glistening path down onto the sheets.
"My god, Shuri, you're exquisite…" he breathes, tossing her panties to lay with her negligee and immediately making himself comfortable between her thighs.
Shuri watches him with great anticipation as he settles his broad shoulders against her, forcing her to lower her wide, athletic spread to rest her thighs and legs around him. He leans in, pressing his nose to her practically hairless mound (save for a few damp wisps of black coils she left in a small, neat strip), and inhales deeply. "And you smell fucking amazing."
She's too primed for what's coming to tease him about his 'potty mouth'. She isn't given the time, anyway, because Steve leans in, opens that mouth, and lets his hot tongue lave her wet lips open with a deep groan. She whimpers again and lets her head fall back, her eyes rolling shut.
"Bast, yes, do that again," her high voice commands.
And he obeys, this time not pausing to give her a word in edgewise as he proceeds to eat her pussy with utterly immodest abandon. Steve Rogers - Captain Fucking America - the hundred year old boy scout - grabs Queen Shuri by the thighs and pulls her onto his open mouth, his hot tongue catching hold of her juicy lips and sucking like he's drilling for oil. Shuri rides his face, watching him get himself all damp and sticky as he attends to every inch of her wet little pussy with his tongue, lips, and eventually his thick, strong fingers.
Hard tension grips her by the abdomen and pelvis when Steve falls into a deeply erotic rythym, fucking her with two hooked fingers and raking her clit over and over again with indulgent, broad, firm strokes of his tongue. "F-Faster, Steve…" she moans, her eyes crushed shut as what she can feel will be a devastating orgasm starts to build, and build, and oh fuck yes, it's right there...just under the surface…
"Mmm, yes ma'am…" he utters, sucking in another mouthful of her and picking up his pace. Shuri reaches down to grab his hair from the top this time, using the fine blond strands as a makeshift bridle to control the direction of his steamy tongue laps. She thrusts, he sucks, he licks, he hums until finally the white hot tension building inside her erupts, causing her to shudder violently and throw her head back in ecstasy.
"Oh my god, ugh, fuck, yesssss…" she cries and hisses as multiple waves of mind-numbing pleasure rack her slender body with convulsions.
Steve raises his hooded azure eyes to watch her come undone as he licks away every drop of her cum from every fold of her pussy that his tongue can find and unearth. He patiently, adoringly delivers open-mouthed kisses to her labia and thighs until she comes down from her high.
They stare at each other, finally fully embracing their raw lust for one another. The attraction they'd both been feeling - and trying futilely to hide - for a long while is loose, free, unstoppable now.
Steve looks as if he's just getting started, which causes that fissure of heat to open inside her again.
He rises, letting her tingling thighs slide from his broad, sturdy shoulders, and crawls back up the bed. Shuri watches him come, enraptured by his prowess, all two-hundred-and-forty-some-odd pounds of lean, superhuman muscle poised to strike.
Steve leans in and seizes her mouth, letting her taste herself on him in a deep, tender kiss that he takes his time letting unfold. They breathe practically in sync, totally lost in each other. Steve wraps her arms around his neck and lets go so he can get his underwear off.
He's so hard and primed that his head oozes a tiny river of precum and veins have risen to break up the smooth, waxy champagne-toned skin along the length of his pretty dick. Shuri's mouth waters and her already slick sex only becomes more slippery with steadily flowing arousal for him. He slides his hands along her thighs, rubbing small, intimate little circles into her skin with his thumbs as he spreads her open and positions himself to push inside.
Before he does, he hesitates, gazing into her eyes, kissing her sweetly. "How far can I…?" comes his husky, nearly breathless request.
"All the way," she replies, returning his tender kisses, settling her slick lips against his pulsing head, causing him to groan and grip her thighs like he's holding on for dear life. His nostrils flare with the closest thing to impatience she's ever witnessed in him. " Don't worry. I have a special implant. We're not conceiving any Wakandan heirs tonight, Rogers."
Steve's gaze lingers on her tender lips, as if he's thinking, but she doesn't get a chance to read his expression, because he lifts her up slightly and thrusts inside her. He fills her to the brim, sliding right to the back of her, where he hits so good she squeals and squirms around his girth.
And he begins to fuck her, one arm wrapped around her slender waist, the other hand holding her thigh steady so she can take all of him with each cosmic blow. He moans and breathes against her mouth and neck, kissing wherever his lips can reach, squeezing her so tightly it hurts.
Soon, though, he has to let go of her, falling over with her onto the bed, covering her with his body as his thrusts slow to hard, long strokes. Shuri takes his face in her hands, kissing him over and over, encouraging him by meeting his thrusts with her own until they establish a blissful rhythm, so good...Bast, so damn good...long, deep, hard strokes. Sweat collects and slicks their flesh, kisses grow more and more intense and unrestrained as his tongue explores her mouth, her legs wrap and lock around his sturdy, amazing body.
He moves faster again, lacing his fingers through her long twists, burying his face in her neck to inhale her scent while he chases his release. Shuri begins to whisper to him, driving him over the edge. "I want you like this all night, Steve...mmm...I want you inside me over and over...I want you all over the palace...I want you to fuck me any way you please. I've wanted you so much for so long and I didn't even know it...ugh...yes! Just like that! Don't stop!"
His thrusts become more erratic but lose none of their veracity as he pounds her slight frame into the mattress. Shuri rubs her clit indulgently until she feels her own release, bucking against him and squeezing her eyes shut to ride out the orgasm as she rides his cock. Steve groans loudly when he feels her walls shuddering around him, pulling him to his own gargantuan orgasm. He comes like a rocket. His length pulses and twitches inside her, draining him dry in a rushing tide. She simply holds onto him until he finally calms, breathing hard, letting his weight sink down onto her with exhaustion.
They lay there recovering for some lengthy seconds until he finally pulls out and rolls over, letting her breathe fully.
"Christ…" he exhales, his voice deep and coated with post-coital bliss.
Shuri chuckles in agreement. "Mmm-hmm."
He turns to look at her in the dim, beautiful moonlight finding its way in to them behind a procession of glowing clouds. "I wanna do that again."
She laughs freely this time, a musical trill of unrestrained delight, as she turns on her side to kiss him.
"Eighty years of stamina training, huh?"
"You betcha," he winks, kissing the laughter from her lips.
They fuck again. And several more times before the sun rises.
He fucks her from behind, lets her get on top and ride him until his toes curl, then they go at it on their sides. He isn't playing, Shuri quickly finds out, and keeps learning as the hours melt away.
They only stop to drink water, use the bathroom, and rest their eyes. Steve can only give her a short respite before he's rolling over to kiss her, or sliding his fingers between her legs to see if she's still wet and ready for him.
When she's utterly spent and exhausted, the super-soldier stays up even a little while longer to kiss her all over until she's so relaxed that she drifts off and doesn't wake again until the sun is high and bright.
Her eyes flutter open and she realizes that he's spooning her, holding her close, breathing slowly and steadily into her hair. Shuri manages to ease out of his embrace without waking him, rising from the bed on weak, wobbly legs, and puts on her robe.
She has a lot to do today - a press conference, a tour of her lab, and a million other things she has an assistant to remind her of. But all she wants to do is be with Steve.
She lingers, watching him sleep. He looks so handsome and kinda boyish, now sprawled on his back, his mouth open slightly. He looks like he hasn't slept this well in ages. Shuri leans down and kisses him softly on the neck, then the cheek, before leaving a holotext in his kimoyo beads explaining that she has to work. Also adding a cheeky little 'P.S.' she hopes will make him flustered and horny.
Keep that superhuman dick of yours ready, Rogers. I may want to ride it as soon as I see you :P
-Your Queen
With one last lingering gaze at the gorgeous specimen in the messy king bed, Shuri realizes that everything she whispered to him last night was true.
He wants her, and she definitely wants him. And she will let him have her. All week, if he wants. She wants. She will command. And she will refuse to be ashamed of it, or even hide it, from this moment forward.