[Author's note: this is a direct continuation of "The Woman-king Ch.1" - readers looking for the beginning of Cicale and Alayne's story are encouraged to read that chapter first. Comments are welcome. Enjoy.]
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Alayne had never been with another woman, although such practices were not unknown to her; one didn't grow up in a barracks with other women and not be privy to these things. But Alayne had never considered the exploits herself; had never known that what she felt for Cicale was anything more than friendship. The heated need flowing through her body attested otherwise.
Cicale's things had been moved from the women's barracks to the King's chamber that afternoon, a room which, upon entering, Alayne realized was as sensual a place as Cicale deserved. Sumptuous fabrics and luxurious furs were everywhere: the walls, the curtains, the floors, the bed. A merry blaze burned in the large stone fireplace, warming the chamber and flooding it with soft, flickering light.
Alayne was completely unaware of the guard's departure; time seemed to crawl and expand all at once as she stood motionless in the centre of the room, waiting for the woman-king to come and claim her.
Cicale arrived in a flurry of robes and flashing red curls, dismissing the servants who would enter with her and seeing that the heavy oak door was locked behind her. The king's gaze remained intently possessive as she strode across the room to Alayne.
Alayne moaned aloud as Cicale pulled her into her arms and lowered her lips to meet Alayne's own. The kiss in the hall had been slowly deliberate and sensual, with an undercurrent of possession that had melted Alayne's knees and made her want to scream with wanting more. This kiss was wild, aggressive; Cicale's tongue thrusting, searching, taking the very air from Alayne's lungs.
Cicale wrapped her arms around the smaller woman, pulling Alayne roughly against the solid plane of her chest, moulding Alayne's softness against her body, watching through the kiss as the younger woman's eyes flew open in disbelief.
Pressing the rigid length of her cock against Alayne's abdomen, Cicale chuckled.
Her laugh was deep and warm, and standing as they closely as they were, Alayne could feel the vibration of it through her body.
Their lips parting, Cicale and Alayne watched each other wordlessly, their quickened breaths mingling; Cicale's green eyes were filled with lustful mischief, Alayne's blue ones with puzzled astonishment.
"How?" Alayne asked, shaking her head in wonder; her chestnut waves tickling Cicale's hands as they remained possessively about the younger woman's waist.
"Would you like me to show you?" Cicale asked, watching Alayne's face for any glimmer of indecision. Finding only curiosity tinged with desire, Cicale stepped back from the brunette and parted her opulent robes.
Beneath she wore the same form fitting style of breeches all the warriors, male and female, were accustomed to, although these were a pair made of the finest leather. Alayne recognized the shape beneath the snug fabric as one she had seen before on their male counterparts. The sight of a generous bulge on Cicale was both surprising and wonderfully erotic.
"Being king," Cicale murmured, stepping forward again and reaching for the younger woman's rounded hips, "has its advantages."
She pressed herself against Alayne, pleased by the tremor of desire the other woman could not contain.
"One of which is that I must prove my manhood." The look in the woman-king's eyes was both hot and amused. "Since the female kings before me also lacked the necessary equipment they fashioned this," she thrust aggressively against Alayne, please by the woman's sharp intake of breath. "it is as much a part of me now as the crown."
Alayne could feel the king's deft hands unlacing the back of her gown. Cicale eased the fabric from Alayne's arms, lowering it to free her breasts for the older woman to appreciate.
Cicale traced the soft underside of each breast, the gentle curve along the periphery, before running her fingers lightly over Alayne's already hardened nipples. The king's touch was soft yet possessive; moaning, Alayne allowed her head to fall back, exposing the delicate lines of her collarbone. Her breasts tightened and lifted; Alayne whimpered, needing more than a light tease.
Cicale took, her hands weighing the soft heaviness of Alayne's breasts, the rough texture of her aureole, the hard apex of her nipples. They were beautiful breasts, perfectly shaped and wonderfully soft. Cicale bent and took the tip of one in her mouth.
Alayne clung to her, touching the king for the first time since the older woman had entered the room. Clasping Cicale's head to her breasts, Alayne marvelled at the softness of the king's bright auburn curls.
The younger woman's breath came in measured, gasping pants; she hardly dared to move as Cicale laved one nipple with the roughness of her tongue before turning her attention to the other. Alayne could feel the wet heat between her legs, the pleasurable tension deep within her. Cicale's mouth was hot, her tongue skilful; Alayne had never dreamt that mere breastplay could bring her to her peak, but much more of Cicale's attention and that very thing would happen.
Sensing the younger woman's weakening hold on her ability to remain upright, Cicale swept Alayne up in her strong arms and deposited the breathless woman gently on her bed, taking the time to slowly divest Alayne of her dress and soft leather boots. Earlier it had pleased Cicale to see Alayne wearing her finest dress for her victory banquet and coronation, now it pleased her even more to see the naked body spread before her.
Alayne was flawless; her arms and legs had a sleekness Cicale attributed to the younger woman's position as a master archer in her army; Alayne's hips and breasts curved provocatively into a narrow waist; her belly a gently sloped plane above the nest of brunette curls which guarded her core. Cicale could hardly believe the beautiful, shapely woman was lying silently, freely before her.
Alayne in turn was in awe of the powerful woman-king standing over her. Even fully clothed, Cicale was a dazzling specimen of grace and strength combined. Alayne had always liked to watch Cicale in battle; the tall woman was as formidable with a broadsword as any of the men she commanded; she fought with the same strength and with more passion than any man; with copper curls flying and a dangerous glint in her emerald eyes, Cicale on the battlefield was a magnificent sight. Now, with those green eyes darkened by lust, Cicale was even more splendid; unspoken anticipation left both women trembling.
Alayne held her breath as Cicale lowered herself down onto the bed. The king dropped her head to suckle again at Alayne's breasts, eliciting a pent up cry from the smaller woman. Cicale smiled against the pale softness as she ran her tongue from the tip of one rose-coloured nipple to the other. Alayne's response pleased her greatly. Cicale pressed the hardness beneath her trousers against Alayne's supple hip, wanting to communicate her own desire to the writhing woman beside her.
Cicale's touch was light yet sure as she traced her fingers down the length of Alayne's torso, stopping at the nest of dark curls; Alayne's sharp intake of breath was all the permission the woman-king needed; Alayne's thighs parted, allowing the other woman to dip her fingers into the damp heat between them.
"Cicale." Alayne hissed, as the other woman touched the sensitive button of her clitoris. "Oh sweet Goddess."
Cicale chuckled again, marvelling at the generous wetness she had found; the heat beneath her fingers was incredible; without thinking she plunged three fingers deep within Alayne.
The younger woman's hips rose off the bed, the ragged moan torn from her throat swallowed by Cicale's kiss. Fiercely, deeply, she claimed Alayne's mouth and core with tongue and fingers, wanting more than anything to bring the dark-haired beauty to completion.
The king teased Alayne's nub with a strong thumb, maintaining the aggressive drive of her fingers; each thrust drawing another cry from the young woman, who tossed so violently Cicale couldn't sustain the kiss; instead she bent again to Alayne's breasts, sucking sharply on a hardened nipple.
