"Why do you like to practise in our bedroom?" she asked me idly one night. I couldn't sleep. I swung my feet out of the bed and slid my sword from its scabbard. I began to cycle through the sword drills, letting the flow take me and the sword be my guide. It was only halfway through one of the complex lion guards when I realized she was watching me. She was wrapped in the bed sheets, her shoulders, a wry smile on her lips. Even after our lovemaking, she still looked as if she had emerged from the rose-petal bath, her skin glowing, her eyes sparkling with secret mischief.
I rested the sword on my shoulder. I was naked and proud of my bare breasts. I knew she was taking in the sight greedily. She was eating me whole. My queen and lady.
"Tell me more about the mountain warrior," she purred and I felt wetness between my legs.
I forced myself to focus, going back to the lion guards drill once more. Her words unclogged the memories in me: his inscrutable face, his mouth on my skin, and his hands along my thighs. "He is a stern teacher and his swordsman skills are incomparable."
She stretched luxuriously on the bed, easing her shoulders from the bed sheets. They slipped off, showing her pale skin and the curves of her hips. "I am sure that he taught you something else."
It was said in a matter-of-fact tone, that I stopped in my tracks and stared at her hard. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"
My queen laughed merrily and grinned at me. My anger at her jealousy melted. It was the same grin that drew me to her, moth to flame, the same day when I saw her in her father's courtyard, the scent of the orange flowers thick in the air. It was late spring. The sun danced on her body, gold against gold.
"No, not jealous," she shook her head slowly. "You are a fair maiden too. I would be surprised if he were immune to your beauty."
I felt myself flush. My face was warm, my body prickling as if I had spent too much time in the sun. I kept my sword and went back to her open arms. My mouth moved against hers. She wrapped her arms around my neck, moaning softly. Laughing softly, I began to tease at her breasts, my tongue flicking at her hard nipples. She gasped, arching her back, pressing her body against mine.
My queen and lady was warm, soft and hard all at the same time. She was passionate, like banked fire - gently flaming and then bursting forth in a roar. She wanted me to have pleasure too. I groaned as I felt her hot breath on my parts. It was joy. It was pain. It was both.
At last, when we were both sated, she curled beside me, her arm across my breasts. I stared at the ceiling of our bedroom, my skin deliciously coated with a layer of sweat. All I could think of was the wolf emblem and that I needed to have the heart to tell her the enemy was at our gate.