The Cursed Tyrant and His Reluctant Queen

«Why are you nervous?»

«Because you're touching me!»

«Does it make you nervous? Shall I stop?»

He interrupts the massage and leans the hands on my legs. His palms are burning in contact with my skin. He's so warm, isn't he?

One hand is covering a knee; the other is lower, between calf and ankle.

How am I supposed to think in this situation?

«I don't dislike it,» I explain. «It's just new to me.»

«Oh, is that so?»

«Yes.»

I hope he won't mind that I'm so clumsy.

«So, can I continue or not?»

«As you wish.»

He tilts his head, pretending to be confused.

«I said you can do what you want, Ignis. For me, it's pretty much the same.»

I cross my arms to confirm my words and wait for him to continue the massage. However, his hands don't restart with the wonderful motions of a while ago.

Oh, no. They don't.

He touches my knee, caressing the side of it with his thumb. Then, his fingers slip in between my legs, moving up. Slow yet unstoppable, he grazes my thigh with his clutches.

The inner part of my legs starts swarming, and the only thing that can make this weird feeling stop is Ignis's touch. If only I could just tell him what to do...

«If you say it like that, then I will do what I want,» he whispers after I don't complain about his hands.

Oh, not that I mind. I'm sure I want the same he does, more or less.

«Aren't you going to tell me to stop?» he inquires.

«No, I won't tell you not to touch your wife,» I point out. «What's the point?»

«Oh, Veronica, you'll transform me into a crazy man,» he chuckles. He bows towards me but, since we're in this comfy position, there's no hope he can reach me for a kiss.

I lean on my arms, relying on them to move closer as well, and our mouths meet midway.

I try moving my legs away to reach closer, but Ignis prevents me.

«Wait,» he murmurs before returning to kiss.

I can't reach out to him and sink my fingers in his hair. Even if it's my primal desire, right now, I need my arms to stay up.

Meanwhile, a brave hand moves up my inner thigh, disappearing under my skirt and promising prohibited excitement. It moves too slow for my taste, making me expect the moment it reaches secret and unexplored places.

Yet, it doesn't speed up. No matter how much I wish for it, it keeps its unbearable slow pace.

«Ignis,» I call him in between the kisses.

I want him to kiss my neck as well, just like he did in his own room. I want to feel him so close that just breathing harder would make our chests touch.

Yet, how am I supposed to ask something like this? Isn't it improper for a wife to be too demanding?

I've had enough bridal lessons to know that I shouldn't ask for too much. Even less should I demand from my husband to do something!

However, my whole being is so thrilled by the expectations. I'm stuck at wishing for that kind of touch. I can't move my thoughts away.

All I can do is wait and wish, wondering whether he will do the same thing as last time. Oh, it would be just wonderful. Yet, Ignis might have different ideas...

I close my eyes and decide to forget my wild wishes. It's fine like this, really. I should just enjoy the moment.

I can stand leaning on a single arm, so I use the other to clutch Ignis's shirt and keep him close, lest he gets tired and decides to end our kissing too soon.

I've just started heating up and liking it, so he better stay like this a couple of minutes more. Just a bit, please...

His hand moves up again, reaching half of the thigh. It can't continue on its designed path because I've locked my legs together.

I pull back, splitting our lips and finally looking him in the eye.

It lasts for a while before I make my decision. I spread my legs a few centimetres, enough for his hand to continue up.

Ignis smiles, all happy. As if this pleases him more than me. For goodness, if this means being married, I don't mind being a wife.

My body is crossed by thrills every time he does something. Literally, anything works.

My legs are quivering, but it's no big deal since I'm not standing on them. Moreover, Ignis's lips... Oh, his lips.

I pull him by the shirt and continue kissing him while his fingers reach the rim of my underwear. Just like the rest of the clothing, even the most intimate layer is light and simple.

It's too hot outside to wear stockings, and I don't have anything as plain as this: cream-coloured and without a single detail.

I didn't think someone would ever look at my underclothes while choosing them. Oh, how naive of me.

Since Ignis doesn't move for a minute or so, I spread my legs more. It's enough of a signal, isn't it? And, more importantly, is this appropriate? For sure, it's better than talking...

Since my husband doesn't seem to mind my shameless behaviour, I sigh in relief and close my eyes again, focusing on this new kind of pleasure. Even though, for now, it's just the expectation that is making me act like this.

Before finally touching where my skin is most sensible, Ignis grabs my thigh with a little more strength and backs away. He's suddenly on guard, for some reason.

Have I done something weird? Oh, I shouldn't be this proactive, maybe. But I didn't do anything much...

«We're under attack,» he whispers, sitting straight and listening to something outside.

«Oh, again?» I murmur, utterly displeased.