QueensQuest by Suz deMello Read Free Book Online Page B

and croaked my name as his penis swelled,
spurting hot jism into my mouth and down my throat. He tasted spicy and I
delighted in swallowing every drop. As I sucked and licked his shrinking cock,
he continued to softly moan with pleasure, his hands convulsing, digging into
my rear.
    On a whim, I opened my eyes, hoping to look into his and see
the same desire that possessed me.
    Lifting my head, I saw that he was watching me. His gaze was
not abandoned to pleasure as I expected, but instead seemed cool—observant
rather than involved. Inside me, my heart jolted. I also was not captured by
the unstoppable lust I would have expected from the torrid sex we’d shared.
    Something was missing and I wasn’t sure what it was. Yes,
Kaldir was sexually skilled, but I did not have the sense that he would
willingly give himself to sensuality. Was I also holding back because I
believed he was not wholly absorbed?
    Perhaps I also missed the bond of trust I experienced with
Parron and Rall. If that were the case, I needed to develop patience. Many
starturns would elapse before I would completely trust a new lover. Kaldir and
I were royals, ruling over rival lands. Would it always be so?
    * * * * *
    After breakfasting at the inn, we rode back to the castle,
laughing and talking freely as though that moment, that jolt, had not occurred.
And why not? Time would, I hoped, make us good friends even if I did not choose
him as my mate. A DesertDweller ally would always be useful.
    We did not ride back to Castle Remarck through the forest
but took a well-traveled route through the town and then along neatly planted
fields bordered by paths and hedgerows. We urged the horses into a last hard
gallop before slowing when we neared the castle’s outer walls. The portcullis
was open, as was our daytime custom, and inside the keep, people had erected
stalls selling food and wares in the expectation that visitors to the
castle—travelers seeking counsel or judgment from me—would purchase their
goods.
    A cluster of about a dozen people milled about to the left
of the open gate. They were grouped around a woman holding a small bundle in
her arms, with a beaming man by her side.
    “A baby!” Excited, I dismounted, and Kaldir followed suit.
“I heard about this child. She was born to the local greengrocer’s wife perhaps
seven weeks ago.”
    He took my reins so I could get a closer look. I advanced
and asked, feeling somewhat shy, “May I hold her?”
    The mother gasped and started to curtsey, a difficult task
given her burden.
    “No, don’t do that,” I said hastily.
    “We are honored by your attentions, Your Majesty,” said the
father. “Thank you for your gifts.”
    “I would have come sooner, but affairs of state…” I nodded
at Kaldir, who still stood at the group’s edge, holding the horses’ reins.
Given the rarity of births, the royal custom had long been to visit the homes
of those blessed by a baby, if reasonably nearby, and to dispense gifts. I had
sent presents, of course, but had not visited the home.
    “Here you go, Ma’am.” The mother, a chubby-cheeked wench of
perhaps eighteen starturns, smiled proudly at me and deposited the baby, a
sedate quilt-wrapped bundle, into my arms. “Her name is Beryla,” the mother
said. “After the crown princess of blessed memory.”
    I pressed my lips together but tears sprang to my eyes.
“Th-thank you. That is so very kind.”
    I stared down at baby Beryla, gazing at her closed eyes,
perfect crescents rimmed by soft, dark lashes that rested like evening mist on
smooth, rounded cheeks. She had a red, puckered mouth and a fluff of dark hair.
She was lovely.
    I bent my head toward her face and inhaled the divine scent
of clean baby, caressed her impossibly silky cheek with mine. More tears
followed the first ones.
    At that moment, something shifted inside me, inside my
heart.
    I ached for a baby. My baby. This was more than a
politically inspired plan to secure the succession.
    I longed