One Heart

27. Coronation

Kensie watched while Sorah readied herself, with only two hours to go till her coronation. "What if I'm not what they were hoping for?" Sorah asked. 

"You will be," Kensie said from where she reclined on the bed, her lips quirked in a soft smirk.

"How do you know?"

"Because you are so much more than they could have possibly hoped for. You're the strongest queen in history. I know you know that because I can feel it within you."

Sorah grinned. "Maybe you should show me what else you can feel within me." Her eyes grew dark with an intense hunger that only her wife could fulfil.

Kensie's eyes grew wide. "I..." She paused and closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind. "We don't have time," she said. "Get dressed."

When Sorah emerged from the walk-in-robe, Kensie wished she had taken her when she had the chance. Because seeing her dressed in all black leather was enough to bring her frustration to the surface. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. There was only one event the queen could not be late for, and she was determined to make sure Sorah arrived at her own coronation on time.

"Are you sure we don't have time?" Sorah asked as she approached, her green eyes sparkling.

"I'm sure." Kensie shook her head and retreated to the safety of the wardrobe.

"You're no fun today."

Kensie laughed as she donned her black leather pants, slipping into them easily after such a long absence. She slid her arms into the burgundy leather jacket and was brought straight back to her last moments in the castle. Her last moments as the Queen's Assassin. She drew a deep breath, pushing her memories aside, and tried to concentrate on the momentous day that was the present.

She emerged, fastening her sword belt to her hip. Not having wielded the blades in almost thirty years, she realised how much she had missed them. Re-familiarising herself with their weight, she drew both blades and painted the air with shimmering patterns.

Sorah's gaze turned to her the moment she re-entered the room. She watched with rapt attention as her wife gracefully drew and tested her weapons. "Holy shit..."

Kensie smirked as she was hit by a barrage of thoughts and feelings from Sorah. "Is that appropriate language for a queen, Your Majesty?"

Sorah approached her till their bodies touched. Her hands reached out for Kensie's hips as she stared into her eyes. "It could get much worse," she whispered, "and you had better not tell me again that we don't have time, because I need you to fuck me."

Kensie's eyes darkened as she lifted Sorah off the ground and kissed her, before pressing her against the wall. She wasted no time in bringing her lips to Sorah's neck, her teeth scraping against fragile skin. She teased her, refusing to puncture until ragged breaths and frustrated cries signalled her need.  

"Please." 

Kensie smirked. "Please what?"

"Please fuck me," Sorah begged. 

Dark, almost black eyes bored into her as Kensie unfastened her leather pants and pulled them down. Sorah cried out as Kensie entered her, the intensity exactly what she needed.

*

Sorah repeated the words that seemed to drive her wife insane, begging for more, for harder, knowing that Kensie would enjoy her requests just as much as she would enjoy the result.

Though Kensie usually enjoyed every aspect of giving, Sorah felt, and heard her coming undone in ways that were usually only in response to her touch. As the two spurred one another on in their pleasure, she was sure that her wife's satisfaction was reaching an equal intensity to her own. She kissed her hard and stared intently into dark eyes as she pressed their foreheads together. As the body-jolting waves ran through her, she felt the same reaction from Kensie as they both tumbled over the edge, their frustration finally soothed.