The Queen's Maid

ten

"Oh," was all I could manage to say as my mind whirred.

Did the Queen want me to... stay the night? My heart fluttered at the thought.

Her lips twitched at my response. She reached her hand out towards my face again. "So tell me, Seul-Ki, what do I need to do for you to not be so" —her fingers brushed my scrunched brows, searing the creases of my skin— "angry anymore, hm?"

I let out a shaky breath. "I... want to do whatever he did, Your Majesty." Whatever that man had done, I was going to do it better.

Her smile widened. "So jealous again." She shook her head as she tugged a strand of hair behind her ear. "He did not even do anything for me. You don't have to worry."

"He got to see you naked."

"Is that what you want?" Her hand dropped to her collar. Her white robe was the same kind she had worn yesterday night. The same thin fabric that hugged her body too well. "See me naked?"

I clenched my fists over my knees. This was a preposterous request from a lowly maid, but I was too bitter to care. He had seen her body, even though he did not deserve to. He did not deserve her.

Slowly, I nodded. "Y- Yes, Your Majesty."

Her hand lowered even more to the ribbon tying her robes together. With a tug, the strips came loose. The fabric slipped off her shoulders, down to her waist, and onto the mattress where she sat.

My eyes drank up the sight of her exposed upper body like a parched farmer on a summer afternoon. Her arms, her bosom, her midriff, soft, voluptuous, perfect for fondling. But best of all, I could not take my gaze off her nipples—so pink, so perky, and so close to my mouth.

I gulped. It must be a sin for a mortal like me to witness this.

The Queen stood up, shaking the rest of her gown off her lower body. Her lower pelvis was right in front of me now, bare and vulnerable. I gulped again.

"There." She kicked her robe away and sat back down in front of me, folding her legs to the side as though she was posing for a painting—and I was the painter.

It took me a long moment before I could manage to speak.

"Your... Majesty..." I choked out. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you." She tilted her head. "Are you happier now?"

"He got to kiss you."

The Queen raised her eyebrow at my demand. Lifting a hand, she wagged her fingers. I shuffled towards her, my knees climbing onto her mattress.

The hand cupped my neck and she leaned. Her lips met mine. It was a light peck, but it was enough to send a tingle of pleasure down my body.

She went for another kiss, and another, and another. When our tongues met, the tingles became explosions, and I could not help but wrap my entire arms around her neck to keep her there. She tasted so good and I did not want this to stop. Ever.

We stared at each other as we pulled back for air. Her dark irises were dilated and wild, and her cheeks were flushed. She was stunning.

"Your Majesty," I breathed, glancing at the rest of her. "May I... kiss you... elsewhere?"

She responded with a long and hard kiss—giving my lips a cheeky bite at the end—before whispering into my ears, "This body is all yours."

And that was all the permission I needed.

I bent down and trailed kisses along her neck, her shoulders, her arms. Her skin was soft and sweet everywhere.

I lingered at her chest. I had to—her breasts were perfect. I took my time massaging them, feeling them, squeezing them, while my tongue played at her nipples. Licking, sucking, the occasional brushing of the teeth—whatever that got the Queen to moan out loud, whatever that drove her to embed her hands into my hair in desperation. My hair was probably no longer in a braid, but I did not care.