CHAPTER 14. LIFE AFTER
And so Nymira accepted her new role as his wife. His mother, once a symbol of motherhood and love, was now his sex wife. Their passionate connection persisted, it was like a dream (or maybe a hot nightmare). At times, his desires teetered on the edge of madness, leading him to question if he was really venturing into forbidden territory--impregnating his own mother. However, those distressing thoughts dissipated whenever he witnessed Nymira's nurturing presence in the evening, breastfeeding his younger brother and wearing a transparent nightgown. He took every opportunity to finish inside, but she always insisted on pulling out.
The morning had just begun and Darian turned Nymira onto her stomach and straddled her from behind, entering his birthplace, her warm mother's cheeks. He groaned, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation, as he felt the tip of his engorged manhood brush against the delicate barrier of her cervix. What could be better than that feeling? Be inside your mom.
"Easy, honey," Nymira whispered feeling the warmth of his hands on her breasts. "Ohhhh we are doing it like animals."
"I like this pose. Ughhhhh Mom. I just entered but ready to finish" he trembled,
with every passionate thrust a cascade of pleasure unfurled within him, coursing through his veins like a torrential wave. His hips moved, driven by an insatiable craving for more. He moved his hips so vigorously that Nymira had to intervene.
"I forgot how much stamina you, young boys have. Please, take your time. And don't call me 'mom'. Remember to pull out." she murmured, her arm encircling his hand on her hips. Her words carried a maternal touch, guiding him with care. The depths of her womb beckoned to him, promising an unparalleled pleasure.
"I'm so close... I want to release inside, Mom," he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. The very thought of cumming again into her womb was overwhelming.
She drew a shaky breath "You can't..."
"Just let me do it today," he almost pleaded.
She made a deep breath. "Fine. You can...do it...ohhh... but just today."
The affirmation unleashed a surge of passion within him, igniting a primal instinct that had been building steadily. He increased the intensity of his thrusts, his movements becoming more urgent and forceful.
"Ohhhhhhh... yes" his whole body trembled, guts clenched and with a final, primal thrust, he emptied his male seed directly into her unprotected womb, thrust after thrust. Darian surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming wave of climax. "Ughhh" His body tensed, every muscle taught, as he unleashed a torrent of cum into the sacred vessel that brought him into existence. "Ohhh Mom..." he emptied himself within her. His seed, warm and potent, flooded her depths.
As the torrents of pleasure gradually subsided, he found himself physically spent, his body collapsing onto hers. In that moment of intense vulnerability, a tumultuous mix of emotions swirled within him--shame and guilt entangled with a profound, inexplicable love for his mom.
In the recesses of his mind, still, inside her, memories resurfaced like fragments of a fading dream. He returned back to his childhood when he held Nymira's hand. The nostalgia washed over him, and he marveled at the timeless beauty she possessed, seemingly untouched by the passage of years.
"When you grow up, dear, you'll be a king just like your father. You'll find yourself a good woman and have a lot of children with her" He recalled that moment vividly, his cheek pressed against the warmth of her back, overwhelmed by a sense of connection as he poured his essence into her womb.
"I love you, Mom"
CHAPTER 15. SUDDEN RETURN
Time passed, but nothing happened. Sometimes she would let him do it inside, sometimes not. But there were no signs of pregnancy, nothing. This distracted him from being a King, so Darian decided to ask Lokir.
The counselor was sitting in his office as always (it had become even messier here, for after Narim left, Lokir had more things to do).
"Ah, my king," he said, standing up and bowing respectfully as Darian walked in. This new version of Lokir seemed politer than the first time Darian sought advice. Lokir appeared neat and, importantly, clean. "At your service."
Darian did not sit down and walked quickly to the table. "I have a delicate question."
"Yes, yes. Is it something with the queen again?"
"Is it really that easy to predict?" Darian wondered.
"I thought things were going great for you, frankly. But so be it. Ask away."
And Darian spoke right away. "I want to continue the Serpent-Slayer's lineage with the queen, but my mother plays a strange game. One moment she lets me, you know... But then she doesn't. I just don't understand it." Darian looked a little lost and couldn't make sense of all the intricacies. "And she still isn't pregnant."
Lokir lightly touched his chin and grinned sneakily. "I think I know what it is. The ladies believe they're the only ones aware of women's matters." The counselor jumped from the chair he had sat on a few seconds ago and walked over to the window where moonlight illuminated the castle. "There are special days when a woman is most fertile. It's tied to her cycles..."
"Cycles?" Darian looked at Lokir in wonder.
"Never mind, Your Majesty. I suppose Queen Nymira specifically keeps you from doing it during those opportune days. I will speak to the servants, gather information, and inform you when she is prepared."
"Thank you, Lokir. I owe you." Darian headed for the door, but Lokir drew his attention again.
"My king, you should be aware that there are rumors of... Nome's return."
"Nome is dead, Lokir"
"But what if he's not?"
Darian walked out, slamming the door slightly. Rumors like that put him in a bad mood. If Nome came back, it was all over. No throne, no queen, nothing.
He went back to the king's chambers, where he found the queen deeply focused on her usual tasks for the day. The room was softly lit, and he could see her sitting by a window, dressed only in a light nightie, her blonde long hair in a bun.
"You seem upset," she remarked.
"It's...nothing. Just tired."
Setting her tasks aside, she walked over to Darian, hugging him tightly. He could feel her breasts touching his chest. But there was still a sense of coldness in her movements.
"I still haven't asked for forgiveness for suspecting you in the king's death," she softly said, resting her head on his chest. He rarely saw her so open and fragile. Probably the last time was by the stream when she fell in. "Sorry."
"Do you still struggle to fully accept our roles as husband and wife? As king and queen," he inquired, ignoring her sorry.
