The Queens Gypsy

The hour is late and I am exhausted. Tonight has been very long and taxing to my nerves, though I could not show it. I sigh deeply.

"Is anything wrong my Lady?" asks my worrying handmaiden.

I smile.

"No Lorriane. I am just tired."

I am plagued with memories. This evenings festival, though joyous an occasion, was bittersweet. Watching the performers dance and spin, hearing the laughter of my people, the enjoyment of the evening delighted me, however, it also reminds me of the celebrations of years gone back. Hearing his voice chuckle in my ear, listening to the fire roar he danced around me. A cold chill sweeps up my spine as my mind floods with warm strong hands on my flesh, the scrape of stubble against my thigh. That man who is not my King...

I am helped out of my gown, all 50 pounds of material, beading and embroidery and I catch a scent in the air. One that makes my legs go weak. Fire and leather.

"That will be all Ladies. I will take care of the rest." With a delicate sweep of my hand they are dismissed.

"Your Majesty." They all curtsy in unison and leave me.

I force my hands still. Willing them not to shake. Feigning indifference I rub my neck and shoulder as I walk toward my vanity. Still in my undergarments, white chemise and corset, I sit as comfortably as I can and begin to take each pearl tipped pin from my long hair. Knowing full well I am not alone in this room.

"Breaking into the Queens bedchamber is punishable by death." My gaze is steady in the mirror. My hands are steady. Each pin placed in a silver shining box on the vanity top.

"Oh I know." The voice so masculine is closer than I realized. "Though this is well worth the risk." He pulls the final pin from my hair and it falls in waves past my hips. I watch as he reaches over my shoulder and places the pin in its box with the others. His arms marked with scars and tattoos from his travels. Soot on his finger tips. He snuck into a palace and didn't bother to clean up. I allow myself a smile.

He grabs the silver brush and begins to run it though my hair. Clearing out knots and bends, making it shine.

I see him then, standing so close to my back I can feel his heat. His gaze down, focusing on his task. I almost forgot just how striking he is. Though come to think about it, it was only a few years ago. His skin is the same smooth pale olive, markings from around the world decorate his flesh, which he bares brazenly. Even in this Spring chill he wears but a fur lined vest and loose trousers. His dark brows arch accenting his piercing honey gold eyes.

He cuts a very exotic figure, with his thick dark hair pulled back into a lovers knot at his nape, a long braid trailing from his temple down to his chest, accented with cold cord and glass bobbles. Playing in contrast to the various pieces of gold and talismans hanging from his neck.

I don't speak. I only watch. I cant speak. I can barely breathe. My heart is beating in my throat. I never liked the effect he has on me. I can't control it. This want...

"Do you remember when I would wash your hair?" He smiles. White teeth flashing behind full lips. "When I would bathe you."

My skin flushes. I remember. Those nights always ended up with water all over the floor and him beneath me in the tub soaked to the bone, writhing in the warm water.

"The scent of lavender still excites me." He raises a handful of hair to his nose and his eyes close as he takes in the scent. I always bathe in lavender.

"Why are you here?'My voice comes out deeper than I intend. I force myself to refrain from gnawing on my lower lip. All tools of my trade. Know your tells and hide them.

He moves my hair aside.

"For you." His fingers trace my shoulder and glide down to my collar bone. "Just as I remember. Like porcelain."

My breath catches in my throat.

"You mean to tell me, my crown still bears all its jewels?" I give him a playful tilt of my chin.

"It might be missing a sapphire or two. You know I love blue." A devilish grin plays on his lips. For the first time in years our eyes lock. Green holds gold in place. I know I'm blushing, I can feel my face burn, but so is he. His hands grab onto my shoulders with ferocity, his eyes dance.

The moment has changed with that one look. The world has tilted.

With a jagged breath he looks away. Reaching behind his back and pulls forth a dagger, old and worn, intricate in design upon the blade.

"As I said. I came here for you." His tone has become harsh, his eyes wide and wild.

He presses the blade against my spine and I dare not move. The metal is icy cold against my skin, but still I will not move. I lift my chin showing no fear at this turn of events. A woman of my station does not show emotion. Does not beg.

With a quick downward stroke he slices the back of my corset wide. The pressure on my ribs is instantly releases and I am able to take a deep breath.

"Those ribbons are expensive!" My voice booms.

He stands up with a look of pure shock on his face. "You're the Queen of the Five Lands. I think you can afford to loose a few ribbons in the name of passion." He secures the dagger back in its sheath.

"You know what. No. Nevermind. I will steal you new ribbons. How about that? My God woman. I steal away into the night, break into a massively fortified castle, risk life and limb, mind you, just to see you. To touch You, and you scold me for cutting some ribbons?"

"Seven."

"What?"

"I am the Queen of the 7 Great Lands." I cannot hold my smile back.

"God woman, how I've missed you." In a smooth yet frantic motion he grabs my throat, leaning me back into his body and kisses me hard on the mouth.

In the thrill of the moment I open my lips and allow the kiss to deepen. His thumb caresses the skin beneath my jaw in slow circles. He pulls back and looks at me. I'm dizzy and at a complete loss of words.

When words fail you let actions speak for you.

With one hand I grab my loose corset, pull it from my body and throw it onto the floor. With the other I grab his decorated braid and pull him down into another kiss. One that is filled with longing. I press my legs together trying to ease the ache that is beginning to build.

He moans as our tongues touch and caress, fighting for dominance. He pulls back again, this time with a growl. Fueled by lust and powered by his acrobatic strength he lifts me off the bench, into his arms and throws me onto the bed. I land in a graceless mess of silk and laughter.

He wastes no time. His vest falls from his shoulders onto the floor, with nimble fingers he works on the cloth fastening on his pants. Glancing up at me he stops, a playful smile dances across his lips. He gestures toward his trousers and places his hands behind his back. Rocking slightly on his heels.

"Oh, are you in need of help undressing?" I lay my fingertips against my breast to feign surprise. He raises his brow, his gaze level with mine. I smile. "Just like old times." Slowly, and on purpose, I crawl to the edge of the bed. With all my feminine grace I lift the tattered silken chemise and sit delicately on the edge of the bed spreading my legs so he is placed between them being careful not to touch.

I make quick work of the knots at his hip. Once unbound I hold the cloth in place and run my tongue from the bend of his leg to his hip bone. He chuckles and tries to back away but I hold the cloth tight pulling him closer. I tilt my head and gently rake my teeth across his hip. HIs chuckle turns into a laugh which fades into a growl. He grabs a handful of my hair and lifts my face to his. "Behave Majesty". I let the cloth go and take his cock in my warm hand. He moans at my touch, eyes rolling back in his head. "No." I whisper. With my other hand I begin to stroke his cock. As magnificent as I remember. Both hands run up its length, each one barely able to fit around his girth on their own. With a slow fluid motion I run the flat of my tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip of his cock. Once. Twice. I place my lips on the head of his manhood and luxuriate in its velvety texture. Slowly swirling my tongue around his tip, letting my lips play around the head of his cock. His hands are in my hair gently urging me onward. I rub small circles with my tongue causing him to moan and curse, I take this moment to suck him down into my throat. I cannot take all of him, but I try. Again I work the head of his cock until his hands are everywhere and I suck him hard, head bobbing up and down working his shaft with one hand as my tongue works circles around the tip.

"Enough!" he cries. I am pushed down onto the bed. Standing in his naked glory he rips the rest of my silken garment exposing my flesh to his gaze. His hands are everywhere at once. My legs, thighs, nails scratching at my hips, warms hands now cupping my breasts. I let out a ragged sign as his tongue meets my nipple. My back arches as his knee forces my thighs apart to make way for the warmth of his body. A tease really, him laying so low. My body is on fire. I am wet and wanting and he focuses his attention on my breasts. I whimper. And the bastard smiles. He knows exactly what he's doing.

I undo the knot in his hair and run my hands through its silken strands. His hands massage each breast in turn, adding to the fire already raging under my skin. My hips move beneath him trying to find some sort of purchase, but he lifts himself just out of reach. I try to guide him up with my hips and hands, to no avail. I try to nudge him down by his shoulders and he does not move. I lay my head back and let out a sound of frustration. "Always in such a hurry." He tisks.

Moving agonizingly slow he runs his body up mine. Stopping with the head of his cock just out of reach. I spread my legs further apart, wrapping one leg around his waist, hooking my foot around the back of his thigh. He smiles brightly. Grabbing ahold of my wrist with bruising force. He nudges my wetness with the tip of his throbbing cock. I need this, more than I realized I need this. My hips writhe under him to no avail, he is just out of reach and he knows it. I ache to the point of madness. I need to be filled, I'm panting fighting against his grip.

"Say my name." He breaths into my ear. I shiver.

"You have so many." I moan as he lays hot open kisses where my neck and shoulder meet.

"You will have this..." he gently rubs my clit with the head of his cock. I nearly buck trying to feel more. "ah,ah. You may have this once you say my name."

"No games. it has been so long. I need this so bad." His mouth closes on mine, I pull from the kiss trying to catch my breath. He reaches down taking hold of his cock and keeps making gentle circles around my clit.

"My name."

I whine. He has so many, known by so many names and my mind is a blur. All I can think of is flesh and heat. HIs skin, his taste on my lips. The curl of tension is beginning to build but I know he wont let it grow any stronger unless I give him what he wants.

I rush out a stream of names I have heard him called, some by me, some by others "Tsingano. Jester. Tigre." He keeps swirling his cock, asking me the same question. "Gypsy." I am almost in tears. My body is shaking with want.

"My Name." I look at him with tears in my eyes.

"Please." This was the moment a Queen was reduced to begging.

"Say it."

I couldn't think, so I said the only thing I could. "My Love."

His eyes closed as he thrust deep into my waiting depths. Both of us screaming in bliss. HIs teeth buried into my shoulder with each thrust, my hips rising to meet his pace. It had been so long to be away from such wonder. He holds my hips in place with bruising force each thrust accented with grunt a hiss. I don't hold back. My nails run down his back trying to pull him even closer. With minimal effort he has worked me up in to a frenzy.

"yes, yes..." I chant over and over. "Please..." I am so close. I can feel the tide of ecstasy rising, threatening to take over. I grind my pussy against him, feeling him fill me, stretch me. I call his name as my hips move with a madness. "Yes! AAahh!" I scream as climax brakes over me, my back arching off the bed, my thighs shaking.

"Ah, Fuck!" He moans in my ear. His thrusts quickening and becoming rougher. I try to catch my breath and shake my head. "My turn." I turn my hips and push him by his shoulder knocking him off balance. His eyes are lit with a wild light. I force him on his back and straddle his hips. His cock eases into my soaking pussy and we both groan. HIs hands move my hips to match his need. I raise up, and drop myself down reveling in the sounds he makes. That is until I feel it again. The tide. I certain tilt of my hips causes us both to become feral. I ride his cock, letting that coil wind up at my core again. I lean back, resting my hands on his knees. His hands kneed at my breasts, grab at my hips.

There it is. Sounds of our frantic love making fill the room and neither of us care right now. We are both so close. That's when I hear it.

"Baby... baby..." This sets me over the edge. The coil snaps and we come together. His hot seed filling me, my pussy gripping as his massive cock. We ride it out as long as we can...

I fall forward, laying my head on his chest. The room is cool thanks to the sheen of sweat we have highlighting our flesh. I hear his heart thudding against his chest, we are both out of breath. He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. Once upon a time this was my Heaven. It has been too long.

We clean up the traces of our love and lay back down in each others arms. Legs entwined. We say nothing. We just are for a short time and for now... that is enough.

I will not go into how we parted ways. Just know there were tears... I don't want to think on that right now.

I will, however mention that we had forgotten all about time that night. Fallen asleep in the warmth of each other and were surprised to awaken to the sun. And just as surprised to have our breakfast already laid out for us. Enough for two.

It is important to have good people in your employ. For instance my help know I take lovers from time to time. People who are good at ignoring the sound of vigorous love making coming from the Queens chambers.

The King is 72 and I respect him and his reputation. Because of this they never question the little things.

They never ask why the young Princess, who just turned 5 has golden honey colored eyes. Or why a roaming band of Gypsies end up at the edge of the city with their gifts and circus in the Spring, right around the Princess' birthday.

Though in whispers they do wonder why it took him so long to visit the Queen. But the answer to that is simple. I am no gypsy and he is no Prince. Our lives are on separate paths... but in another time... maybe...