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Heavy footsteps echoed across the white marbled floors as a group of four plainly-dressed men were led towards a set of looming, ornate doors flanked by two guards, poised with blank expressions on their unremarkable faces.
“His Highness is expecting these men for talks of trade routes,” the servant leading the group said to one of the guards, earning a firm nod before the two men pushed open the doors, revealing the grand throne room in all its regal glory. With a thanking nod of his head, the man walked forward with the four men following, just as the doors were closed behind them with a heavy thud. They marvelled at the grandiosity of the huge room before gathering their wits together, silently going through what little they knew about the king they were about to meet as they trailed behind the servant.
King Vox was a man shrouded in as much mystery as his mother, the late Queen Mother Luna. She was quiet during public affairs but was said to be the leading force behind all expeditions involving subterfuge, as well as the reason for the influx of creature clans joining the growing kingdom. It was for that reason that when the current king had taken over after his father's death, no neighbouring kingdom tried to overthrow the king, due to the protection employed by the creature clans that called Luxiem their home. The king himself was very much like his father in terms of looks and attitude — tall and handsome, and with a flair for the dramatics, yet shrewd and wise — but he showed more affection for his people than his father did, as although the king and his king consort did not show themselves very often to the wider public, when they did, it was usually met with huge fanfare and days of celebration. It was rumoured, however, that both parties frequently visited the towns dressed more plainly and greeted their people warmly. Whether the rumour had a basis in truth was uncertain, but it meant that the royal family was likely more in harmony with the wants and needs of their people than most neighbouring kingdoms were. It was a position to be envious of, and more importantly, a place that would most likely continue to thrive if they could keep their detractors at bay.
"Now sirs, in case you do not know the protocol for outsiders meeting a member of the royal family in court, you must keep your eyes lowered to the ground at all times unless given explicit permission from his majesty," the servant said, turning to the four men and pulling them out of their musings. With a nod of understanding, the men allowed their eyes to wander the room they had entered as they approached the throne.
It was unsurprisingly draped and decorated in all sorts of different fabrics in one particular shade of red — the kind that would match the splatter of freshly-drawn blood. The centre carpet stretching to the end of the room was red with gold trimmings and flanked by two copies but smaller in width, while several red velvet chairs were lined adjacent to the steps leading up to the throne. Arched glass windows etched with symmetrical patterns towered over the men, light streaming through the semi-opaque glass while simultaneously disallowing anyone from being able to look inside with ease. The throne itself was—
“Please kneel and bow your head before His Majesty King Vox, and His King Consort King Mysta,” the servant announced, making the four men do as asked, eyes immediately dropping to the ground as a sign of respect.
“You may rise,” a smooth, deep voice said in a commanding tone. All four men and the servant stood up again, eyes still planted to the floor, except for the servant. “What is it you have come here to discuss?”
“We are humbly requesting the honour of brokering a trade agreement between you and a farming village just north of your kingdom, your Majesty,” the first man with dark-brown hair said. “We believe it will benefit both you and our home, sir.”
“And what can you possibly offer me that other villages have not already done so in the hopes of joining my domain?"
“I hope it won't be considered presumptuous to hold our humble village in such high regard, your Majesty, but—” A high, breathy moan interrupted the leader of the group, startling the man as he cut himself off, looking towards his companions in confusion while the king’s men hardly acknowledge the noise.
“Continue,” the king’s voice boomed, spurring the leader to speak.
“—But, our village has a clan of Wiccans, having lived with us for a few generations. As we understand, they are a rare and prized… commodity in your palace and a necessity to the well-being of your illustrious kingdom. I’m sure that they could be persuaded to extend their services to your majesty if such an alliance or more were to be agreed upon.” A tense silence echoed through the room as the travelling men felt a sense of sudden hostility radiating from the occupants of the throne room as the last words left the leader’s mouth, making them all fidget uncomfortably, wondering if they had said something wrong.
“You may look up,” the king finally said, his voice somehow even deeper and raspier than before, tinged with something the foreign men couldn’t place. The four travellers raised their heads, noticing four additional men flanking the king on either side of the throne, before quickly stifling mixed reactions of disgust, surprise and arousal as they finally found out where the earlier noise had come from.
Seated in the king’s broad lap was an ethereal figure of a man with silky, ash-brown hair; just as tall as the king himself and just as intimidating, but for completely different reasons. Dressed in intricately revealing clothes — showing everything and nothing all at once — the man wiggled in the king’s lap, hiding the intimate act they were in the middle of with his careful positioning and the very sheer fabric of his long, thigh-split skirt. Unfamiliar eyes were drawn to the erotic expressions and to the veiny pair of ring-clad hands gently squeezing the tiny, supple waist. They watched intently as the lewd body bounced up and down, pulling pretty noises from soft, parted lips, only to be gently shushed by the king whispering the man’s name into his ear.
It was then the four men realised who exactly this man was.
King Consort Mysta, also known as the most beautiful man to have graced the royal family in several generations. He was seen as docile, if a little brash and outspoken on occasion, but was only ever seen as a mere figurehead to appease the neighbouring kingdoms through his appearance, which was normally completely covered — even his face was constantly veiled in public. Those who had seen a glimpse of his face said that his beauty was rumoured to come from being a descendant of the last clan of fox gods that died just over two hundred years ago, but no one could truly verify it. Even his entire history was a mystery to everyone but his husband, it seemed.
His husband, who was also extremely protective of his wedded partner.
“Keep your hungry eyes off my wife before I cut them out and feed them to my pets,” King Vox said sharply, golden eyes darkening as he scrutinised the men before him. “You will not look at him nor address him in any way while I speak to you, is that clear?” The men nodded hastily, the leader having to nudge one of the men in warning as he was about to open his mouth to speak out of turn. "Good." He paused, whispering into his wife's ear again before stopping his movement so the brunette was still in his lap, doing more than simply warming the king's thighs. "Now, as for your offer... It is rejected."
"Rejected? On what grounds?" One of the men with blonde hair spoke before the leader could stop him, making the king's narrowed gaze fall on him.
"For one simple reason, really. You seem to think that the Wicca clan residing in your village would allow themselves to be used for your monetary benefit without explicit consent," King Vox sneered, looking down his nose at them. Beside him, one of the finely-dressed men — dark hair with various streaks of colour — stiffened. "Reducing these powerful beings as mere trading stock will not get you the deal you want, and to offer it in the first place is rather... reprehensible."
"Wiccans are nothing more than cursed beings of the Abyss; they are lucky to even have shelter in a village as tolerant as ours!" The blonde boasted, uncaring of the strained looks painted on the faces of his companions. The other three grabbed at the outspoken one, squabbling amongst each other as the rest of the present figures watched the ongoing display.
"You; the blonde one. Step forward," King Vox finally said, his deep voice halting the four men in their tracks. Suddenly less confident, the blonde came forward until he was at the foot of the steps leading to the king, only a couple of feet away.
Up close, the king was even more intimidating — cooly lounging there with his red, gold-trimmed robes splayed over the throne — despite his gorgeous partner seated in his lap; his orange, backless halter-top wrinkling under the king's grip. If anything, the king consort added a dangerous allure, like a siren ready to draw in its victim. His sunset-blue eyes were attentive, even when never uttering a word, and in the throes of simmering pleasure. Together they presented a dominating force, backed by the four figures behind them, all no less daunting.
The one stood closest to the king seemed like a quiet and unassuming man, but looking closer revealed a shrouded undercurrent of depravity, only seen in the depths of those piercing, green eyes hidden behind silver hair that faded into cobalt blue. The man next to him was the complete opposite — golden hair and lavender eyes; and a tall, muscular body, contrasting his fairly cheerful face — and one to avoid at all costs. Then, on the other side of the throne was the one with the colourful streaks of hair. He had a svelte figure, and clearly possessed Wiccan powers if the glowing violet eyes and triquetra birthmark on his exposed left wrist were indications. Lastly was a man with short hair, the colour of deep nightshade, and indigo eyes. Unlike the other three men who were dressed in red, he was dressed in black robes trimmed with orange, mirroring the king consort's colours — a clear indication of where his loyalties were kept.
The circle of people the king had chosen to surround himself was a wall of intimidation and impenetrable secrets, and it was then that the four men were suddenly aware of how dangerous of a place they were in.
"You dare talk down against Wiccans that have the power to crush you, should they choose it?" The king boomed, eyeing the man below him. "I cannot tell if you are brave or foolish, though it matters not. One day your words will come to haunt you — whether you survive that, is to be seen." He waved his hand dismissively. "Regardless, I have nothing more to say. I am feeling rather merciful today, so I will not hold this strike against you this time. You are dismissed."
"But—" The blonde man protested, taking a step forward before immediately stepping back when both the short-haired man and tall blonde on either side of the king drew a weapon. "We did not travel an entire month just for you to reject this offer we have made!" He clenched his fists, face screwed up in frustration as the leader pulled him back to their group.
King Vox frowned at the four men, shifting slightly and stroking his wife’s back when the man whined quietly in overstimulation. "I found your outburst amusing the first time, but I am no longer entertained by this rather brazen conduct. I have given you my decision. Leave before my patience runs thin, and do not show your faces again."
Just as the servant began to insistently herd them towards the door, the youngest man of the group took a step forward and quickly kneeled with his head bowed while the other men quickly copied their companion. "Your Majesty, if I may be as so bold as to say one more thing."
The king hummed in consideration. "You may continue without punishment, for now."
Not looking up, the man — or rather, a man barely out of his teenage years — spoke. "Firstly, I deeply apologise for the imprudent behaviour that my friend has shown. But, I ask that you gracefully reconsider our proposition — in truth, our village is in dire need of supplies that we do not have access to. We have nothing more to offer, and the... Wiccans refuse to aid us through more magical means, despite the urgency."
"And what is your stance on the Wiccans, young man?" King Vox asked. The king then must have moved, because a loud, lewd groan erupted from the king consort's lips, making the four village men flinch in uncomfortable arousal.
"I am... indifferent to them."
"And yet you would sell them to save your village?"
"I would not use the word sell, sire. 'A mutual, beneficial exchange' would be a better phrase."
"You have no respect for Wiccans."
"Should I, sire?" A hint of contempt leaked into the man’s words and made the king tighten his lips.
"My mother was a Wiccan," the king said, flashing his left wrist which bore the same triquetra birthmark as one of his generals. "Kindhearted, and soft — some would say, too soft. But although that may have been the truth, she was a force to be reckoned with. One of my trusted generals over here, General Shu Yamino, is also a powerful Wiccan. My kingdom relies on the power of Wiccans and otherworldly beings, yes, but what you don't seem to understand is that I do not force them to protect my kingdom. I have earned their trust, just as they have earned mine. They have a place in my kingdom that they do not seem to have outside of it, and that is why my kingdom stands strong, despite the odds and the smaller size." The king told the man to raise his head and look him in the eyes. "However, it seems I have changed my mind in the face of your words." The four men muttered excitedly to each other at this. "I will amend my conditions — I will offer the Wiccans of your village a place in my kingdom, and in exchange, I will supply your village with a years-worth of necessities. When the year is over, you will no longer have my help, nor will the Wiccans be an unwelcome intrusion to your village."
The four men let out various sounds of shock. "Surely that is an unfair deal? You stand to gain more than our village does!" The blonde spoke up, lifting his head, only to be backhanded by the silver-haired man, who had been prepared for the outburst and left the king's side.
"Unfair? You made your stance clear on your feelings on Wiccans. It seems I am doing you a favour if nothing else. And you— " His gaze then narrowed darkly at the blonde. "Speak out of turn again and you will be leaving without a tongue in your head." He shook his head, gesturing at the servant and nodding at his generals. “Get them out of my sight before I have them killed on site. I have been more than lenient for someone who has had to listen to such a pathetic attempt at a trade agreement, and I will hear no more of it.”
The leader snarled as he was manhandled by the silver-haired man and dragged towards the door. “I knew we should have never trusted you to side with us humans!” He yelled in the direction of the king, before looking at his fellow men. “By the gods, men, do what we always planned to do and kill him!” He managed to get out, just as the silver-haired general sliced his throat open with one swift movement.
The three men scrambled up and away from the approaching generals, each making solid but useless attempts to get closer to the king before they were shortly cut down by the other three one by one. In the wild scuffle, the youngest man had managed to avoid being hit in a vital spot and dodged the next sharp blow, making it a few steps closer to the throne and chucking his special throwing dagger laced with poison as a last-ditch attempt, just as he was stabbed through the chest from behind.
All the young man could do was grin as the dagger flew towards its target unhindered, the king and his wife open and vulnerable to his killing blow.
The generals were too slow and too far, they would never make it in time.
He would die avenging his family—
His smile dropped.
Caught between two manicured fingers was the throwing dagger, with not even a paper cut to speak of. Blue eyes glinted dangerously as they caught the alarmed look of the man before the figure slowly slide off his husband’s lap with a tiny groan and approached like a fox teasing its prey, his sheer skirt fluttering around his ankles sensually as he flipped the dagger around with his left hand.
Uncaring of the slick and semen dripping down the insides of his bare thighs, King Mysta stood in front of the young man with a spear protruding through his chest and lifted his head up with the flat side of his newly-acquired dagger.
“H—how…? You’re… s—supposed… to be…”
“What, helpless? Weak? Where did you possibly get that idea from?” The brunette said as though he was speaking to a child, smirking down at the slowly-dying man before him.
"Y—you..."
The brunette cooed at him, trailing the sharp tip of the dagger down the man's throat. "Hush, boy... Surely you don't want your last breath to be of you choking on your own blood— oh wait, never mind," he said, chuckling to himself as pulled back, playing with the dagger again in his hand. "It's a shame that you're dying. I would have loved to pick your brain on how you managed to create a dagger with permanent poisonous capabilities." King Mysta shrugged his shoulders, making his thin shawl fall to the floor enticingly, and even in his last moments, the young man couldn't help but stare at the enchanting figure before him. "Still can't keep your eyes off of me, can you?" The king consort hummed in disappointment. "All of you humans — you're all the same," he sneered, scoffing as the young man gave into his temptations and reached out as if to touch the brunette. “Disgusting filth.”
“Now now, darling, it's not his fault — he can’t help but be human. Have a little pity,” King Vox said uncaringly, contrary to his words, and leaned back casually as all the generals except for the short-haired one returned to the king’s side. The king made no move to even tuck himself back in, showing the young villager his large girth that had been stuffed inside his wife during the meeting.
The king consort turned his head and pouted. “Well, fine, not all humans are bad, but this one,” he jabbed the young man in the chest with a sharp nail, earning a pained groan, “is a foul, little vermin, along with his dead friends.”
“Don’t… talk a—about… them… you shameless harlot…” The young man growled, spitting out the blood in his mouth directly at the feet of the king consort.
The short-haired general stepped forward with his weapon drawn, ready to strike the young man down permanently, only for King Mysta to stop him with a simple hand gesture. “General Shoto, stay your hand. Let me deal with it.” The general nodded reluctantly as he drew back, but made no move to put away his weapon.
“You’re lucky the sight of blood has no effect on me, or else I’m sure you’d be facing the wrath of my husband,” the king consort said, looking down on the man. “But, since you’re dying anyway, let me tell you something.” He crouched down to the balls of his feet, left elbow perched on his knee as he held the dagger in his hand and waved it around playfully. “I assume you’ve heard rumours about me being this and that, but no one truly knows. Would you like to know?”
The young man gulped as he watched the brunette’s long, dark lashes flutter and petal-soft lips part teasingly. “Y—yes…” He uttered mindlessly, before breaking away from the haze occupying his failing brain. “W—wait, no! What are you… doing to m—me?”
“It’s my allure. When a person of human blood looks upon my uncovered face, they are inexplicably drawn to me,” King Mysta said, tilting his head slightly to one side. “Those rumours weren’t quite right in the end, but they weren’t wrong either — I am not a descendant of one of the fox gods, I am a fox god. Specifically, the god of love and lust. Two very different things, but when combined,” the king consort sighed in delight as he glanced over at his husband, “lead to some amazing results.”
“Why… a—are you telling… me this?” The man managed to choke out, screwing his eyes shut. He would not fall for this… creature's spell anymore.
“Your meeting here isn't a random chance of circumstance; your group was deliberately allowed to enter this castle by my orchestration. After all, normal trade meetings do not require all the generals here, but I made sure that your men would have a… warm welcome. Do you remember the conditions that were set for your arrival?”
“The leader… and his four… s—strongest men…” The young man inhaled sharply at the realisation and the pain that followed from his movement. “Y—you… bastard…”
“Shameless and a harlot I might be, but bastard I am not,” King Mysta said with a wide grin on his face, his fangs poking out now that his secret was revealed. “Do you know why I led you here, David?”
“How do you… know my… name?”
"The same way I know that the three other men with you were your friend, your cousin, and your father." The brunette slowly stood up and made his way back to his husband, easing the man's cock back into his body with a satisfied sigh as he sat sideways, legs propped up on the plush armrest. Encouraging his wife to lean back into his chest broad chest, King Vox wrapped his arms around the brunette's waist as the other rested his hands atop the king's before he continued speaking. "I've been keeping my eye on your village for a very long time, and your people have not changed, even after taking in a Wicca clan less than a hundred years ago."
"W—what have we... ever... done to you?" David gasped out, forgetting to keep his eyes away from the king consort as he looked up at the man. Staring at those captivatingly blue eyes, the young man shuddered as the king consort's face contorted into one of hatred and disgust.
"What have you done?" King Mysta said quietly, suddenly no longer acting coy and playful. His face and tone were severe, lacking any type of outward emotion. "Your village massacred my family when I was barely five years old. The rest of the fox gods fled to to the heavens and never returned after what your village did. I was lucky to even survive, let alone live as long as I have." He looked over at the short-haired general who was still standing near the young man. "If my general’s family hadn't taken me in, I wouldn't even be here," he said, smiling disparagingly, "and yet, even after almost two-hundred-and-fifty years later, your village has not learnt its lesson. I know what you humans do to those Wiccans when they refuse to stay in their place."
"Y—you, you— All of you… filthy… abominations should have… stayed in the nether-realms… where you b—belong," David spat out, blood dripping from the corners of his lips and down his chin.
King Mysta’s smile turned feral and dangerous as he watched the man faltering, on the verge of death. “Ahh… So there are your true colours. Like I said, your village hasn’t learnt from their mistakes, but we’ll make sure that changes.” His eyes glinted, a spark of something that shook the young man to his core.
This truly was not the picture of a docile royal who was only good for their sexual appeal. This was a man who hid in the shadows, lurking and waiting for the right moment to strike.
And he was ready.
“W—what… are… you…”
Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head over it,” Mysta said pleasantly. “It will happen long after your body is devoured by my husband’s cute little pets.” He rubbed his thumbs into the skin of his husband’s wrist and squeezed his legs, earning a sensual kiss to the crook of his neck in retaliation. “Let’s just say, judgement will rain down on them shortly.”
“You… c—can’t—”
“You will find that I can,” King Mysta interrupted. “The neighbouring kingdoms may believe that I am a silly, pretty little fool with nothing to offer but my appearance, but my people know better. My closest circle know better. If I wished it, I could make those in the highest position of their royal court bow at my feet.”
The young man gasped for air, more blood beginning to fill his mouth as he could barely keep his eyes open. “You… will… rot… demon…” He finally slumped back a little, hardly a groan leaving his mouth as the spear through his torso shifted slightly but prevented him from falling over completely.
The king consort giggled, sharing amused glances with his surrounding generals as his husband smirked, chin resting on the brunette’s shoulder. “I think you’ll find that the only demon here is my husband.” His blue eyes seemed to dance as he pressed a sweet kiss on the king’s cheek while his hand reached up to cup the other side of the man’s face. “Do you want to see?”
David could barely muster a sound of rejection before he felt his body thrumming with intense, burning agony. His ears throbbed as loud, high-pitch screams drilled into his eardrums, before realising it was him making that harrowing noise.
As his world quickly faded into dark blotches, the last thing he saw were two glowing pairs of eyes — one beautiful shade of blue, and one bright colour of gold — before the underworld claimed him as their own.
xXx
The occupants of the throne room stared impassively at the mess the king’s abyssal hounds had left of the villager, body ripped in half and chewed up and with his head frozen in an expression of pure pain and terror.
“Your dogs really need to learn table manners, Vox,” the king consort said, turning to his husband with a disapproving look on his face. “This is the fourth time they’ve made a mess on the carpet in the last year, and every time we send it to be cleaned, I feel sorry for the poor cleaners who will have to deal with it.”
“I’m sorry, darling. They got a bit too excited,” the king replied, nuzzling his face into his wife’s neck. “Forgive me?”
Mysta caved immediately. “Of course, baby.” He leaned into the warm touch of his husband, before scowling at his brother — in all but blood — when he saw the disgusted expression he made. “Get that look off your face, Sho.”
Shoto laughed at the other man, his more professional attitude melting as they all relaxed, the adrenaline from the impromptu assassination attempt dying down as his fellow generals began to gather up the three other bodies and place them carelessly on or next to their youngest member. “Never. Just because I have finally accepted the fact that you married that demon, Mysta, does not mean I want to watch you getting all romantic with him.”
“Sho, I am quite literally sitting on his cock right now,” Mysta said, deadpan.
“I’ve desensitised myself to you two fornicating everywhere and anywhere because you happen to be the biggest whore in existence apparently,” Shoto sighed in exasperation. “But, seeing you exchanging sweet words makes my stomach turn,” he added in jest.
“Well, I think they are pretty cute together like this,” the blonde general suddenly chimed in, just as he dumped the last corpse over the shredded one with a cheery smile.
“You think the hounds are cute, Luca. You don’t get to have an opinion,” the silver-haired general said in mild amusement. “I, for one, wish you two would stop with the public indecency every time we are greeted with new guests, especially those wishing to genuinely trade with us.” He took off his glasses and wiped the tiny blood splatter away with his blue, embroidered handkerchief before putting them back on as he resumed speaking. “Although granted, I suppose I can’t hold this one time against you.”
“It’s just a little test, Ike,” Mysta pouted slightly. “If they want to work with us, they need to be able to handle how extreme I can be. Besides, it also helps to filter out the bad ones.”
“True, but I can’t think of why you would tell him that your allure works on every and only humans,” the wiccan general mused, waving over the (unharmed and unshaken) servant who stood respectfully to the side until he was called over. Briefly directing the servant to send in the guards to sort out the dead bodies, he then turned back to the other generals and his kings. "It works on everyone — not just people born with human blood — with dark intentions against you, no?"
"Yes, but he didn't know that, Shu," Mysta grinned cheekily and shrugged, mildly paying attention to the dead bodies being promptly dragged away by his guards, before looking back at his loyal friends and generals. "I just wanted to mess with him before he was killed." He moved his legs down from the armrest so that his thighs were now on either side of his husband's legs. "Babe, how you do feel about continuing where we left off before we were so rudely interrupted by those horrible men trying to assassinate you?" Mysta ground down against Vox's lap for emphasis, earning a surprised groan and a pinch to his hip as a warning.
"Do that again and you won't be walking tomorrow morning, you little minx," Vox whispered into the brunette's ear heavily, gripping his waist tighter.
The generals exchanged knowing glances with each other and caught the attention of the two aroused men before they could devolve into a lustful mess in front of them. "We will be taking our leave now, your majesties," Ike said, speaking for all of them. "Anything you would like us to do after we leave?"
"Start planning the expedition to that god-forsaken village," Vox managed to get out as Mysta completely ignored them in favour of leaving hickeys all down the king's neck. "We'll need a thorough plan within the week before these men's families start suspecting something. That will be all." With an understanding nod and respectful bow, the generals swiftly exited the throne room, leaving the married couple alone to their own devices.
Vox wasted no time in pulling his suddenly affronted wife off of his cock and turning him around to kneel on the throne, ass sticking out and chest pressed against the backrest as the king pinned him down with a hand pressing on his left shoulder. "Vox, what are you—" Mysta was cut off with a firm slap against his bare ass, yanking out a startling moan of pleasure from his open mouth. "Ngg~!"
The king barely let the other recover from the smack before he was pushing in again, groaning deeply as he sank in straight to the hilt, lubed up only by the leftover semen from their earlier tryst. The man coaxed Mysta to turn his head towards him, catching soft lips with his own. "Now, where were we?" He mumbled against the brunette's lips, drowning the moans escaping his wife as he began to move, barely pulling out but driving in deep with every thrust of his hips.
“Oh gods…!” Mysta whimpered, unable to do anything but cling tightly to the throne as he was roughly handled, muffling his loud moans into the plush padding of the throne. "Please, I want— Ooh—!" A choked cry was ripped from the brunette's throat as Vox's plunged deep, his cock creating a little dent under Mysta's navel from the force and angle.
Vox ran his hand down to where his cock was poking out from under Mysta's skin, his breath quickening as he pressed down on the spot, pathetic whines escaping his wife's mouth. "You feel that, baby?" Vox whispered into Mysta's ear, rubbing the soft skin with the palm of his hand. "Feel how deep I am inside you? So deep I could breed you?" Mysta moaned breathily, head lolling back as his eyelashes fluttered. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Want to be so full of my babies, hm?"
"Uh-huh..."
"Good boy," Vox said in a hushed tone. He brought his tongue behind the shell of Mysta's ear, licking and sucking the delicate skin and leaving marks over old ones. "You love it when I keep you full, don't you?"
"Vox, please..." Mysta begged, feeling overstimulated and nearing the edge of his orgasm just from the overwhelming sensations his husband was putting his body through.
The king smirked, leaving behind a bruising hickey before he pulled back slightly. "Want to come, darling?" The brunette gave a wordless moan, his long legs trembling in exertion. Vox sighed and encouraged the man to lean back so that their warm skin was in contact, a supple back against a muscled chest. "There we go," he drawled, hand still pressed on Mysta's stomach as the brunette wriggled his ass impatiently. "Hold on, baby, let me just..." With no warning, he moved their bodies a few inches away from the throne and adjusted his wife's stance so that the man was bent over completely, fingertips brushing the lush carpet.
“I, wait— ough—?!" Mysta's eyes rolled back as he gagged, feeling his husband's cock slide in impossibly deeper from their change of position.
"Fuckkk..." Vox almost growled and gripped Mysta's hips firmly when the brunette's legs buckled momentarily and squeezed around him tight. Using his hold to stop the brunette from squirming, he swatted his ass in warning and began pounding into his wife with an unrelenting pace, leaving Mysta to take everything his husband was giving him with no mercy.
"Vooox..." Mysta sobbed out to his husband, still feeling weak at the knees but stable enough that he wasn't in any danger of falling over as long as Vox held on tight. "Vox, please, I can't— I can't—" He slurred his words, unable to feel or comprehend anything but his own blinding ecstasy and the blood rushing to his brain, making him lightheaded.
"Almost... there—"
Mysta could do nothing but brace himself — mouth open and tears smeared all over his face as he was used like a flimsy toy — with the only sounds being his hitched breaths, high-pitched whines and the rhythmic sound of skin against skin. It was too much, too hard, he felt like he was going to die—
"Fuck, come, baby. Come for me."
With a broken scream, Mysta came violently, body shaking with the intensity — so much so that Vox had to hold onto his wife to stop him from falling forward, and even as his orgasm slowly died down, small tremors shuddered through the brunette's body.
Gently, Vox guided them to the throne once more and sat down with Mysta in his lap as he made no move to reach his own release, instead wiping the tears off his wife's face with his sleeve, more concerned with the man's wellbeing. "Good, my love?" The king asked as he stroked his wife's back until the man stopped trembling. Then, Mysta simply slumped back into his welcoming husband's embrace and turned his head to press lazy kisses into salty skin. Eventually, Vox was given a muted hum in reply before hazy blue eyes looked up.
"Come inside me, baby," Mysta mumbled with a pout on his lips when the euphoric fog had slowly lifted from his brain and he realised that his husband was still rock-hard inside his body. "Please?"
Vox couldn't help the fond look of adoration that came over his face as he pulled his beautiful wife into a short, loving kiss. "Anything for my darling boy," he muttered, shifting so that he could easily move without bouncing the brunette too much. "Can I?"
Mysta nodded his head as his husband began to roll his hips upwards like a slow, passionate dance. Despite feeling overstimulated, the brunette enjoyed the sensations, letting it wash over him until a surprising pressure built in his gut and he was climaxing all over again with a quiet whimper, just as Vox came with a low, drawn-out groan.
After a moment of respite, Vox wrapped his arms around his exhausted wife, pressing a chaste kiss to the temple of the brunette's head and cradling him as they basked in the blissful afterglow of their release.
"...Vox?" Mysta mumbled after a little while, breaking their comfortable silence. He turned his body so that he was across Vox’s lap and looked at the man with a soft, disarming smile on his face.
"Yes, my love?" Vox hummed, unable to do anything else but return a smile to his precious wife.
"Thank you for finding me," the brunette whispered, suddenly looking as vulnerable and small as he did when they had met each other as nothing but two small, bratty children on opposite ends of society. "I know I've said this many times, but if you hadn't found Shoto and me all those decades ago, maybe I wouldn't even be the same person I am today." He then abruptly shook his head, an embarrassed flush rising up his face. "Sorry. I don't even know why I said that."
"Don't apologise, darling." Vox stroked the other man's hair, playing with the ends as he spoke. "I thank the higher gods every day that they led me to you — the beautiful, wonderful, unfaltering, love of my life." Then, he paused and briefly stared at his hand as it began thrumming with a demonic wave of power before pulling it away from his wife's head until he contained it again, not wanting to accidentally corrupt him. Even after holding that kind of power for more than a few years, he still had moments where it leaked out unintentionally. “Despite everything I have done — good and bad — somehow, I still have you in my life, and I will forever be eternally grateful to you, my love.”
At those words, Mysta looked away, trying to fight the growing smile on his face. Any other time, he would have teased the man, but for once, he allowed his husband to shower praise over him. “I love you,” he said sincerely, once his husband had stopped talking, earning a surprised blink at the sudden confession that Mysta rarely said aloud — after all, his actions were always the loudest in the room.
Vox continued to blink in shock for several seconds before he pulled his wife into a loving kiss. “I love you too,” he said, drawing away slowly as he cupped Mysta’s cheek and caressed his smooth skin with his thumb, feeling the other lean heavily into the warm touch.
They both shifted their bodies as the ache started to settle in, as well as the feeling of drying semen making Mysta uncomfortable. Without a word, Vox reached his arm back to grab at the clean towel (stashed in a little compartment attached to the throne after one too many times of getting caught having sex on it) and wiped his wife down after he pulled out, then cleaned himself up. Adjusting their clothing as best they could — because even if it was clear what they had been up to, it was only polite to keep up appearances — they both eventually got up, although Mysta struggled to take a few steps before nearly buckling and falling over.
“I did say you would not be walking after I was done with you,” Vox said amusedly, yet held out a hand to help.
Mysta grabbed the outstretched hand, but instead of continuing to walk, he dragged the older man closer and fluttered his lashes at him. “Carry me?”
Faced with the rare instance of his wife actually asking for something, Vox didn’t dare deny the man (even if it was something a king should not be seen doing) and simply did as asked and swept the man up into his arms. “Ready?”
Mysta nodded, wrapping his arms around his husband’s neck. “Lead the way, my king.”
“As you wish, my love.”
And as he passed his quietly giggling generals, the king of Luxiem knew that the resounding grin he received in that moment was worth any humiliation he would be faced with in the following days.
At least he had his wonderful wife by his side to make it up to him.
