The Queen’s Throne Part 1

Her breaths grew ragged again, her nails raking his skin as she neared another peak. “Now,” she gasped, the word a gift, and Marcus let go, his own climax crashing through him as she shuddered above him, their cries mingling in the air.

Evelyn collapsed onto him, her corset pressing into his chest, her heartbeat a wild drum against his own. She reached up, finally slipping the blindfold off. Marcus blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, and found her gazing down at him, a rare smile softening her features.

“Well done,” she said simply, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he replied, exhausted but content.

She rose, offering him a hand. He took it, standing on unsteady legs, and she led him to the couch, where a blanket waited. They sat in silence, the power dynamic fading into something gentler, more equal. She draped the blanket over him, her touch lingering.

“Rest,” she said. “You’ve earned it.”