The Crown Lies Heavy

Distraction (noun): a thing that prevents someone from giving full attention to something else.

JASMINE

I crawled onto the bed. I could feel Theodore’s eyes on my body, drinking me in.

“Running away?” Theodore teased, dragging me by the heels back closer to him.

I erupted into giggles, my naked body slamming down onto the bed.

“Got you,” he said as he got on the bed behind me.

I felt his lips kiss up my leg, all the way up to my lower back, lingering there before making their way along my spine to my neck. His kisses left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. My body came alive for him, igniting with pleasure.

“You look so sexy in this position,” he whispered in my ear.

“Oh yeah,” I posed for him, sticking my ass out so he could get a better look.

“You’re the sexiest woman alive,” he said.

His hands ran up and down my body, grabbing my ass. On my hands and knees, I arched my back toward him. The heat emanated off his skin, seeping into mine. I could feel his hard body pressing against my backside.

He grabbed my waist, drawing me back toward him. Circling my hips onto him, I felt him throb for me.

Then his hand made its way between my legs. His fingers massaged my clit firmly. He was a man on a mission. And that mission was making me come.

“You’re so wet,” he pointed out as his fingers traced my opening.

“And whose fault is that?” I giggled.

“Mine,” he nibbled on my shoulder as he slipped a finger into me, then a second one. “It's all my fault. Sue me.”

I laughed. Having sex with Theodore was incredible because while it was erotic, we could also joke around together. The perfect balance of intensity and ease. Yin and yang in harmony, dancing around one another.

As Theodore stroked his fingers inside of me, I felt my walls open up for him. Spreading my knees apart, I moved with the motion of his hand. In a way, his fingers were controlling me, like they were casting a spell on my body.

With every tiny movement of his fingers, I responded, the tension building till it was borderline unbearable.

I slammed my head down onto the sheets, letting him take me. I loved it when we fucked in this position. While I wasn’t a submissive person in real life, far from it really, I loved seeing Theodore be dominant. It was sexy.

He could do anything to me and I would let him.

Face in the mattress, I felt every inch of him as he entered me. He was slow and careful, yet assertive, pulling me apart with his hands as he did this. Once he was deep inside me, he exhaled. I tensed my body around him, which made him moan aloud.

Slowly, Theodore thrust in and out. It was like he wanted to explore every inch of my insides with his cock, like he didn’t want to miss a single part of me. Each pump was getting deeper and harder, still slow, knowing the exact spot to hit with every one.

“Harder,” I begged him, wanting more, my voice muffled by silk sheets. “Harder.”

Theodore grabbed my arms and pinned them to my lower back. He angled my ass higher as he hit the edge of my core. I loved it when he restrained me like this, when I could totally relinquish control to his firm grip.

He could bend me into any position, always managing to find the perfect angle to blow my mind.

He slapped my ass playfully, making it jiggle. I writhed with pleasure with every slap.

“God you’re hot,” he groaned, his throbbing dick deep inside of me.

All of a sudden, he spun me around, raising my legs up straight against his muscular torso, my feet perched on his shoulders.

He looked down at me from above. “I love seeing you from this angle.”

My legs still pressed up against his body, he pried my legs open, slipping his cock back inside of me. His finger stroked the front of my legs as he thrust in and out of me. With his thumb, he circled my clit.

I was losing my mind.

I could come any second.

I wanted to tell him, but found myself unable to speak.

All I could do in this moment was watch his abs flex tightly as he pumped himself into me, his muscular forearms, his firm shoulders. Theodore was the sexiest man alive. And he was all mine. And I was all his.

I swung my legs to either side of him, wrapping him with them.

Theodore lowered himself closer to me. My nipples hardened at the touch of his warm skin.

He kissed me, his tongue tracing my lips.

“Let’s come together,” he breathed, grabbing my breast and massaging it.

I nodded, following along with his rhythm. We breathed in perfect synchronicity as he thrust into my body. That familiar feeling was gradually bubbling to the surface, intensifying with every push. I was starting to lose control and Theodore could tell.

“Don’t come without me telling you,” Theodore instructed, the assertiveness oozing out of his voice with such authority.

“I’ll only come when you tell me to,” I nodded, my mouth agape, wanting.

His breaths were now shortening. I recognized the expression on his face, the very same one he always has as he’s about to come.

“Three, two,” he counted. “One.”

With that final number, we both gave into the feeling we had been fighting. It felt ecstatic to release it, to allow it to ravage my body, and consume me whole. The fireworks had gone off and there was no stopping them.

I screamed out loud as he filled me. Theodore continued on, still hard. After a few seconds, I came again. Then again. Each orgasm building off the one before.

What had he done to me?

By the time Theodore pulled out and laid by my side, his hand resting gently on my lower belly, closely watching my breath rise and fall, I had orgasmed at least seven times. Or at least I thought it was seven. It was hard to keep count when he put me in that state.

“So,” Theodore smiled deviously. “How many times did I make you come?”

His fingers traced around my breast delicately.

“Oh stop it,” I slapped his hand away from me, laughing.

“What? You’re not going to tell me?” He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, why don’t you tell me when to stop.”

He held up one finger, waiting for my response. When I didn’t say anything, he kept going. By the time he got to five, he was in disbelief.

“I made you come more than five times?” he asked.

“Seven actually,” I confessed. “Well, it might have been more than seven. That’s when I lost count.”

Theodore pulled me into him and kissed me on the forehead. A forehead kiss was always the perfect ending to sex. Even though it sounded silly, to me, it was the most intimate gesture of all.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked Theodore.

“Anything, my love.”

“Are you ready to be King?”

The question had been on my mind all day. I think I was just too afraid to ask it. Until now, that was.

Theodore played with his hair for a second, thinking about the answer.

“To be completely honest,” he finally said. “I have no idea. But I don’t think I have much choice in the matter.”

“Well, I think you’ll be a brilliant King,” I admitted.

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“I would never lie to you,” I replied. “I think you’re an incredible husband, so caring, thoughtful, and responsible. You take care of your family. Your country is just like a big family.”

Theodore smiled, reassured by what I was saying.

There was a beeping sound from one of the piles of clothes on the ground. It was Theodore’s phone. He answered the call, his eyes still on my naked body.

“Right now?” he said into the phone, displeased by whatever the person on the end was saying.

He huffed. “Fine, I’ll be right over.”

Hanging up the phone, he pouted before jumping off the bed and started getting dressed.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Duty calls,” he rolled his eyes. “They need me to address Parliament on the King’s current condition.”

“Where is Parliament?”

“They meet in the Palais Bourbon in Paris.”

I hadn’t been there yet. I hadn’t been anywhere but the countryside, our cottage specifically, in a while. If we were to become King and Queen soon, I would need to know all about these spaces, how to behave in them, their history.

“Can I come with you?” I suggested.

“You can go anywhere you want.”

***

The moment we left the palace gates, the flashing started. Paparazzi swarmed the green perimeter, hoping to get a shot of us.

We watched the sea of photographers as our blacked-out limousine made its way through the crowd. They all squinted their reddened faces trying to get a better look into the car.

The news must have gotten out about the King.

I wondered what the public assumed.

Did they think he was dead, and that Theodore was King?

Perhaps there was already a hefty sum of money for the paparazzi that captured the first photograph of the new King and Queen. Those tabloids were vultures circling around Versailles waiting for their chance to snap at the carcass.

I would never get used to their scavenging ways. It sickened me to think that people made a living in this horrific way.

The King wasn’t even dead.

He might not even die.

The crowd was somehow even worse around the Palais Bourbon. The car was practically at a standstill as the masses refused to budge.

Theodore looked down at his watch to check the time. “I’m going to be late.”

The chauffeur made a phone call and soon guards appeared, moving disgruntled bodies out of the car’s way. They wouldn’t get their shot. At least not today.

The limousine drove around the back to a private entrance and came to a screeching halt.

“Sorry about that, your highness,” the chauffeur said as he opened the door.

Theodore led me by the hand into the Palais de Bourbon’s entryway where members of Parliament rubbed shoulders before the meeting officially began. These palaces looked exactly like one another.

They all merged into one in my mind, their idiosyncrasies disappearing. There was always a massive crystal chandelier up above that was usually hundreds of years old.

The walls were covered in paintings of people who had long died and would have hated to see someone like me walking these halls. They would have called me a commoner, their noses turned up.

“Look who they’re letting in these days,” one snooty man would say to another, somehow even snootier man.

Maybe they would assume I was the help.

It turned out that being inside was no escape from the hostility outside.

Quite the contrary…

Here, the flashing cameras and photographers were replaced by an entirely different crowd, a sea of pompous people, mostly men.

I spotted a few women speckled throughout the group but found little to no comfort in their eyes. Much to my surprise, I found myself missing the paparazzi.

“Are you ready?” Theodore asked me, guiding me toward the main hall where Parliament would be hearing him speak.

“Um,” I stopped in my tracks. My eyes darted around at the unfriendly faces around me. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. “I think I might actually wait outside for you.”

While I was curious to see the ins and outs of royal life, the politics of it all, I was a bit too intimidated this time.

Especially since I wasn’t even officially Queen yet. I had no title to muster up respect from these people.

I wondered if I ever would, with or without the crown. I suspected they would always see me as lesser than.

“Are you sure?” Theodore asked.

“Certain,” I nodded reassuringly. “I’ll be fine. I’m sure there’s lots to do around here.”

This was a lie.

I would probably be bored out of my mind in this stuffy old place.

Theodore raised his eyebrow, not convinced. “How about I call my mother to keep you company?”

My face lit up. Yes, Thalia would be the perfect company on a day like this, when I was feeling my most insecure. Her warm presence would thaw the mean-spirited glare of Parliament.

“That sounds lovely,” I smiled.

“She’s around here somewhere,” Theodore’s eyes scanned the room. “Ah. There she is.”

Standing in front of a large portrait of Louis XIV was Thalia. She looked up at it pensively, deep in thought.

Thalia turned to me as I approached.

“There you are, my darling,” she hugged me. “Not interested in being lulled to sleep by those old farts?”

“Mostly just intimidated,” I admitted.

“Don’t be,” she touched my arm. “They’re all miserable sods.”

Her eyes drifted back to the painting.

“He was such a party boy,” she said. “They called him the Sun King, but we all know he just loved a good romp.”

Thalia inspected my face, noticing an undeniable discomfort.

“Why don’t we get out of here,” she whispered excitedly as if we were planning some grand heist.

“And go where?”

“You’ll see,” she winked.