"I'm not sure I follow," Amice said, running a finger along the rim of her wineglass. "You want me to risk death and personal destruction for a fuck?"
Amice studied Oliver over her glass of wine. She had to admit, her husband had excellent taste in men. Oliver was pretty in a delicate way that made him seem almost ethereal. Amice wasn't sure whether his hair was eternally tousled because of a personal style choice, or just because of the number of times her husband fucked him in a day.
Clarissa wasn't half as pretty as he was. It was a real shame for a husband to be prettier than his wife. Amice supposed it didn't matter much, considering the king had smashed the marriage in its infancy.
They were in the sitting room together while the king was out hearing petitioners. Oliver was sitting on the couch across from her, a bottle of wine between them.
Oliver's eyes were intensely focused on her. It was a strange feeling, considering he normally looked right past her. They had a long held, unspoken agreement that each of them would pretend the other didn't exist.
It had felt easier to get on with life under her husband's thumb that way. Of course, Amice had broken the agreement when she'd forced Oliver to eat her pussy. That was one time, though, and he'd looked so delectable all tied up, like a gift left just for her.
"I want to get back at Alex. You hate Alex. It's a win-win."
"Until we get caught." Amice took a sip of wine. She did hate her husband. Oh, their first year of marriage had been fine. The old king had still been alive, and her husband had kept up a pretense of civility.
He'd never been nice, but he'd been polite enough. Amice had suspected he was fucking someone else, but he'd kept it hidden, and she'd never even considered it might be Oliver.
She'd assumed Oliver had been just one more servant, an especially good looking one at that. She'd thought him a nice bit of room decoration to ogle. It had never occurred to her that her husband might also be enjoying the view.
Her husband had done his duty by fucking her, and Amice had done her duty by getting pregnant and birthing an heir. She'd then dutifully sent the baby off to be raised elsewhere, as was tradition. Then the old king had died, and everything had changed.
Amice had no idea what threats his father had used to keep him in line, but they clearly couldn't keep past the old king's death, and her husband's civility had disappeared like so much smoke.
He started complaining about Amice's every request for sex, then he'd openly brought Oliver to their bed and fucked him in front of Amice's horrified face. In truth, she'd started enjoying seeing the pretty servant getting fucked, but it was still a humiliating inconvenience, especially because Alexander had only gotten bolder as time went on.
First he'd stopped caring if the servants saw him fucking his toy, then he'd started demanding Oliver suck his cock in front of his council, and never mind that Amice was sitting right beside him, burning with humiliation. It was like realizing that no one was going to stop the king from doing whatever he wished had opened the floodgates of her husband's cruelty.
He hadn't wanted to give her a second baby, ignoring Amice's arguments that the succession would never feel secure without a spare. She'd finally talked him into it by agreeing that he could fuck Oliver then cum in her.
When she'd sent off the second child and asked for a third, even that argument hadn't worked on him.
It had been so long since she'd had a steady source of sex, which was what made Oliver's scheme so tempting, even if it was foolish to the point of being suicidal.
Amice finished off the last of her wine and Oliver immediately refilled her glass. Amice smiled in amusement. Did he really think he could get her drunk enough to agree to this? What would he do when she sobered up?
Amice set her wineglass down on the table. "You want to get back at my husband right now. But what about tomorrow? Or the day after? All the evidence I have points to you changing your mind and crawling right back to him."
Oliver's eyes flashed. "Never. He put my wife in a whorehouse."
Amice snorted. "What do you care about your wife? She hates you. You never even liked her. You just married her in some petty fit of rebellion. I'm not stupid enough to meet the same fate as Clarissa."
"It wasn't a petty fit. I was trying to leave." Oliver snatched her full wine glass and gulped down half of it.
Amice watched him with derision. "Please. If you wanted to leave, you would leave. What's stopping you from walking out that door right now? Nothing, except for how you can't stand the thought of going without seeing my husband kick up a fit first. That's why you went through with that idiotic wedding. You knew he would act out. You counted on it."
"That's not true! I have to stay for Clarissa." He finished off the glass of wine. Hell, he was getting drunker then she was.
She'd listened to him moaning enough to know he liked getting fucked. Whatever bullshit he made up to justify his decision to himself, the truth was clearly that he wanted to continue getting fucked in the ass by her husband's cock.
"Give me one good reason to take a risk this big," Amice said. However she might feel about her husband, she liked being queen. It was one thing to throw the occasional taunt at her husband, but it was another matter entirely to fuck his favorite toy.
Oliver carefully set down the wineglass and moved to the seat next to her. Amice could feel the heat radiating off of him. She wasn't sure whether to lean in closer or flee.
"You want to make him pay," Oliver said, his voice low and husky.
Amice shivered.
"You want to take what's his." Oliver slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. Amice's eyes were drawn to the skin he bared. Fuck, he had a good body. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and dropped it on the floor, revealing well-defined abs and lean muscles.
Amice licked her lips. She'd touched that body once, but not for nearly long enough. "My husband could walk through that door at any time." She said it as much to remind herself as anything. She couldn't risk this. Surely she couldn't let herself be so stupid.
"Alex won't be back for hours," Oliver said.
"Stop calling him Alex," Amice snapped. It had long struck her as ludicrous that a servant fuck toy could call the ruler of the realm by an affectionate nickname when Amice couldn't even have done so.
Oliver blinked. "He asked me to call him Alex."
"Then defy him by calling him something else. That's what this is about, isn't it? Going against what he wants?"
Oliver looked uncertain. "I'm not sure I'd remember to call him something else."
Because he'd been getting fucked by her husband for years before Amice had married him. Amice's ire rose. "If you want me to fuck you, you'll call him 'his majesty, King Alexander' when we're together."
Oliver brushed at an invisible spot on his pants. "That's a bit long."
"Complain again and I'll make it longer."
"All right. I'll agree to your terms, your majesty, Queen Amice." He pressed his body against her leg as he slid to his knees on the floor in front of her.
Amice considered telling him to stop. It was too risky. She'd already decided against this, hadn't she?
Oliver looked up at her from in between her legs and pressed that gorgeous mouth of his to the inside of her knee. Instead of telling him to stop, Amice opened her legs wider and invited him underneath her skirts.
He pressed his tongue to her clit and he was just as good as she remembered. In no time she was rocking her hips and gasping for breath. She pinched her own nipples to increase the sensation as fire seared through her body.
As she crested her orgasm, Amice switched from reluctance to wondering why she hadn't stolen her husband's fuck toy years ago.
Oliver reemerged from under her skirts, licking her juices off of his lips. Amice nearly shoved him back down to go again.
"Fine," she said in a feigned display of boredom. "I'll fuck you whenever my husband is away. Only when we can be absolutely sure that he won't be back the entire time. No close calls."
Oliver smiled as he agreed.
Amice wondered what madness she'd just gotten herself into.
When her husband arrived back at the royal suite, Amice was studiously focused on going over the palace ledgers.
Alexander dropped into his favorite armchair and let out a contented sigh. Hatred simmered just beneath Amice's breastbone. Amice had always considered Alexander to be just short of handsome. Alexander's cheekbones were just a little too sharp, his black hair just a bit too dull, and when it came down to it, there was something in his mouth that always looked downright cruel. She'd been pleased when she'd first married him, because she could have ended up with an uglier man.
Her husband snapped his fingers. "Oliver."
Oliver abandoned the book he'd been reading, grabbed Alexander's bottle of wine and hurried over to him. He poured Alexander a glass before getting to his knees in front of him. Alexander pulled out his cock and grabbed Oliver's hair. Soon enough Amice could hear the wet noises of cock sucking.
Amice fought back a smile. Oliver was right. It was sweet to watch Alexander enjoy having his cock sucked, completely oblivious to the use Amice had made of that mouth earlier. It was a petty victory, but a victory nonetheless.
Amice looked up from her ledgers and watched as the entirety of Alexander's cock disappeared into Oliver's mouth. Fuck, but he was good at that. Amice never could have taken it so deep.
Her husband caught her eye and grinned as if he had read her mind. "You could be this good, too, if you practiced every day for a decade like Oliver has."
"No, thank you," Amice said in amusement. She had never liked having a cock in her mouth. Oliver could keep that part all to himself as far as she was concerned.
Alexander began pounding into Oliver's mouth as Oliver let out muffled moans.
"Stroke yourself," Alexander ordered.
Oliver quickly unbuttoned his pants to get out his own hard cock and began to pull on it.
Amice ran her tongue over her bottom lip as her core tightened with arousal. How Oliver could claim to want out in one breath then moan like a slut in heat in the next, Amice didn't understand, but she could appreciate how hot the noises he was making were.
Alexander groaned as he gave a final few thrusts and came in Oliver's mouth. Oliver sat back, eagerly licking cum off his lips as he continued stroking his own cock.
"Come here," Alexander said.
Oliver climbed into his lap and gasped as Alexander grabbed his cock. Alexander stroked Oliver's cock while Oliver threw back his head, fisted his hands in Alexander's shirt, and moaned.
Amice couldn't restrain herself from dragging up her skirts and rubbing frantically at her clit until her legs clenched with the force of her orgasm.
Oliver came in Alexander's hand and Alexander slid his fingers into Oliver's mouth to feed the cum to him.
Alexander tucked Oliver against his side and resumed drinking his glass of wine. Oliver closed his eyes, his head resting on Alexander's shoulder.
"Enjoying the show?" Alexander asked Amice with a smile.
"You know," Amice said. "If he was my pretty, talented cock sucker I'd be worried about someone stealing him away from me."
Alexander wrapped an arm around Oliver and frowned. "Why don't you manage your business and I'll manage mine?"
