empress of storms by nicole m cameron

dining with various nobles and a rotating selection of ambassadors, all of whom had gathered to deliver their rulers’ best wishes to the wedded couple. With grace and good humor Lady Margot had ceded her role as Matthias’s hostess to Danaë, taking a seat farther down the table and spending the meals charming her neighbors. Danaë felt a certain sense of relief that the late queen’s sister hadn’t taken up against her. She couldn’t have blamed Margot if the serene blonde had been put out by her own arrival. But Margot was welcoming and eager to act as her Ypresian social guide, offering commentary and advice on their fellow diners.
    At night Danaë could put aside the public persona of Queen and revel in her new role as Matthias’s wife. The king had been as good as his promise, and made sure to come to her chambers as soon as they were both ready for bed. Sometimes they would pass the time talking about the day’s events over goblets of crisp white wine provided by Flavia, but more often a laughing Matthias would tumble her onto the wide bed and proceed to drive her mad with his lips and hands, holding off until she was begging for release before he slid deep inside her.
    For all his passion, there were curious gaps in the king’s sensual education. Danaë stumbled across one of these one night when she straddled him, rubbing his erect shaft against her mound and the slick flesh beneath it. He closed his eyes and groaned at the sensation.
    “Well, you’re eager,” she teased. “I do believe I’m of a mind to ride the royal stallion tonight.”
    His eyes popped open. “What? You mean … you on top of me?”
    “Well, yes,” Danaë said, wondering if she’d come up against some odd Ypresian taboo. They breed horses—it can’t be that unknown among them. “Unless you don’t care for that position.”
    “Oh. No, it’s not that. I didn’t know….”
    Danaë paused. “You didn’t know what?”
    He let his hands settle on her hips, cupping them. “That well-bred young women knew about things like that,” he muttered.
    She couldn’t help laughing at the prim tone of his voice. “It’s a very common position, you know. And not just among tavern wenches and women of questionable virtue.”
    “Danaë, really.” His mouth twitched. “It’s … well, Hanne wasn’t comfortable doing such things.”
    “Ah.” She sat back on her haunches, wondering if the late queen hadn’t enjoyed the act of love, or was too reserved to ask for variety in her husband’s lovemaking. “I myself happen to enjoy it a great deal. It gives me more leverage and allows me to rub against you in a way that feels wonderful.”
    “It does?”
    “May I show you?”
    The silver blue of his eyes darkened. “Please do.”
    Rising up, she guided the head of his cock between her legs and eased him inside, grateful that his earlier kisses and caresses had left her well lubricated. Her inner muscles stretched from his girth, and the delicious sensation of fullness started a warmth in her belly that would soon build into a raging fire. 
    Humming, she slid down until he was inside her. “How does that feel, milord king?”
    “Tight,” he said, breathless. “Warm, slick. Gods, you feel amazing.”
    “You as well. Now,” she rose up and sank down on him again, “one of the benefits for you is that you can simply lie there and enjoy me. Feel me tight and hot around you, watch me go up and down as I ride you.” She cupped her breasts, stroking and tweaking the aching nipples. Pleasure arrowed from them to the wet flesh between her legs, enhancing the sensation of Matthias’s marvelous cock inside her. “I love feeling you like this, so thick and hard.”
    “I can tell.” His breath had shortened. “Is that why you enjoy this position?”
    “That, and also because I can also do this.” Her right hand snaked down, one finger landing on her clitoris and rubbing it in slow circles. Ripples of pleasure surged between her