Several weeks passed, and Torven was back on his feet. His wound was fully healed but he would always bear a slight limp and a vivid, pink scar now marred his upper thigh. Not that anyone except Caera ever saw that. His new role as Captain of her Guard meant he needed no excuse to be near her tower after hours. After all, what Guards Captain would not patrol the castle to ensure the safety of the Queen? Indeed, now that Caera had been officially crowned, Torven had argued that even more frequent patrols would be required since he was not protecting a mere Princess.
The coronation had come as a bit of a shock to Caera. A few weeks after the battle she had been summoned to the Great Hall, where a collection of Lords had gathered. Many had fought at the Battle of the Gate (as it was now known) and had witnessed first hand how Caera had marshalled her troops and fought from atop the wall. Each Lord in turn had bent down on one knee, and then Lord Hanley had cried out, "Long live Caera, Warrior Queen!"
Whilst Caera felt a little daft at having earned this ancient and prestigious title by what she felt was "firing a few arrows", she had to admit it did feel better to finally be trusted with mantle of Queen. In some ways, the shadow of her parents' loss did not seem to follow her so closely now, she reasoned that perhaps being made Queen had given her a certain amount of closure from that chapter of her life. Additionally, her nocturnal activities with Torven were proving no small distraction.
That night Torven had given the secret knock, and Caera pulled back the bolt to let him in. The past few weeks Torven had shown her many things about the art of lovemaking, much of which she could not possibly have conceived of on her own. She had never dared to ask how he knew such things, but she was not so naive to think that there were no tavern wenches back in Huntsmark. Not that she really begrudged him that experience, as he certainly knew how to pleasure a woman. Almost every night would end with her flopping back onto the bed in post-orgasmic bliss. Tonight, however, would not be like the others...
Torven entered her chambers, and pulled Caera to him. He kissed her hard on the mouth as she pressed herself against him, moulding her body against his. Torven gave a deep moan as her tongue darted into his mouth and she grabbed his arse. She squeezed his taut buttock as she felt a now familiar bulge press against her hip. Torven wasted no time in peeling off his armour to stand naked before her. He then paused to admire Caera. At Torven's request, Caera had worn something special for him. Having consulted Gilaena (who naturally was fully informed about every new development in Caera's bedroom), Caera had put on a sheer, silken gown, which tied loosely at the front with a small thread. Under Torven's piercing gaze, Caera had demurely undone the small tie at the front allowing the gown to part. The effect was such that her breasts were just barely hidden by the edges of the fabric, with the jutting pink nubs of her nipples poking daringly through the mesh.
Torven seemed to approve, as he took a seat on the nearby armchair, and invited her to come closer. Standing before him in the sheer garment made Caera feel oddly exposed, which added an extra prickle of excitement to proceedings.
"Turn around," her ordered, which Caera did obediently. She felt the back of her gown lift, as Torven reached under the hem to grab a pert buttock. "Now face me." Torven's orders were quite exhilarating to Caera. She had always been happy to do what he wanted, but now it seemed he wanted something even more submissive. With rock hard nipples and an aching, wet pussy, Caera realised she was only too happy to oblige.
She turned as she had been ordered to and saw that Torven was rubbing his cock. She enjoyed the sight, it gave her a thrill to see that he was rubbing himself whilst staring at her with a steely, hungry look in his eyes. "Rub your nipples." He snapped the order at her, giving her no choice but to obey. She reached beneath the sheer fabric of her lingerie and started to rub. She did not allow her nipples to be seen outside the fabric but kept them hidden, only allowing Torven a partial view of what she was doing. Torven rubbed his cock a little faster, so Caera thought she was probably right to tease him.
"Get my cock wet, slut." Caera was slightly startled at this outburst, but knelt down to do as she was told. As she stuffed his cock into her mouth, the most devious part of her brain was relishing in being told what a slut she was.
"Yes, I am a little tart, just for him," she thought. "Everyone in the castle thinks I'm so pure and innocent, but here I am pleasuring my man in any way he wants!"
Once his dick was suitably wet (with a few extra licks just to be sure), Torven ordered Caera to stand again. He continue to rub his cock whilst staring at Caera.
"Rub between your legs so that I can watch." Without taking her eyes off his cock, Caera slipped a hand between her legs and inserted a finger into her dripping slit. Torven grunted and rubbed his cock harder, focussing on nothing but the hand on her pussy.
"Yeah, rub your cunt for me," he encouraged. The filthy words were working Caera up to a fever pitch already, but she tried to focus on what she was being told to do. "Rub your nipple too," he demanded. This time Caera did allow her nipple to slip out from the folds of her gown. Every stroke of her fingers causing her slit to squelch, even more so when she put a finger inside. They remained like that for a while, but slowly rubbing themselves whilst staring at one another.
"Go and lie on the bed. Spread your legs for me." Caera did as she was bidden, and splayed herself for him, her cunt dripping with her arousal. Torven stood at the bed next to her and continued rubbing himself, gesturing for Caera to do the same. Just as Caera was leaning forward to lubricate his shaft once more, a noise made Torven's head jerk round. Torven ran to the door, pulled back the bolt, then stepped into the corridor. Caera heard a commotion outside the door and hid her nakedness under the sheets. When Torven re-entered, he was dragging someone with him by the arm. It was Consetta.
Caera gasped. What on earth was her lady-in-waiting doing outside her door? And why did she look so dishevelled and red in the face? Both questions were soon answered by Torven.
"I found her looking through the keyhole," Torven explained. He sniffed the fingers of the arm he was holding. "I reckon she's been touching herself too. Nasty little pervert, this one."
Caera was horror-stricken, but Torven seemed almost amused.