Isaac stops watching and sucks on her tits, but he’s not my focus. She is.
There’s lube in her bedside table and I find it easily. Isaac sits Blair up and kisses her, kneeing before her and supporting her as I manoeuvre behind, sliding my fingers between her ass cheeks and opening the tube.
I don’t warm it first, knowing she prefers the shock of the temperature. One finger, then two, then I add a third into her ass, hearing her hiss, see Isaac pinch her nipples to draw attention away from her pain. I line up my cock and slowly press into her, breaching past the muscles. When I’m fully there, I place my hands on her hips and pull her back, impaling her on my cock and staying still, giving time for Isaac to enter her.
He bends over us and kisses me, roughly and slow, then moves to her. I move my lips to Blair’s neck, adding to the distraction while he pushes into her tight pussy, slowly, talking to her, reassuring, telling her how good she feels.
It’s tight. She’s still between us, the only movement from her is the rise of fall of her breaths which are deep and rapid.
“Are you okay?” I manage to get the words out, the sensation of Isaac moving in her overwhelming. Her tightness and heat overwhelming.
“Yes. Going to come.”
I reach my hands to her tits and cup them, playing and then I feel her pulse and her cry out.
Her orgasm makes her wetter, I can tell because Isaac speeds up, his thrusts as deep as before but faster. I move too, following his lead, knowing I’m close. Our mouths mingle, the sound of fucking all that breaks the silence.
I know it will never be the same after this. They are the nails in my feet and the chains around my wrists but I don’t want any release but the one I find with them.
I come hard, my arms clutched round the pair of them. Isaac pauses and then gives one last thrust, his cry long and loud into the quietness of the night.
We collapse for minutes maybe, a pile of heavy breathing and soft kisses. Then between us, we carry Blair to the bathroom and clean her up, and ourselves, before we fall into bed and a mess of something that feels like love mixed with lies.
Part Four
December
Remember This December, That love weighs more than gold!-Josephine Dodge Daskam Bacon
Chapter Seventeen
“Goldsmith isn’t happy about Norway. He’s asked us to postpone any meetings with them until the New Year, when we have an agreed deal with England.” One of Blair’s advisors looks over to my team and I’m sure there are more wrinkles on his face and his hair is greyer.
Majken’s words resonate in my mind. The threats. The repercussions.
Blair’s breaths are there too, her cries and moans from the night before and the night before that.
She doesn’t talk politics, not unless something’s on her mind.
“The problem is my cousin, Lachlan, has spoken in the media about being in favour of a deal with Norway. An all-encompassing one that would see us lose our independence in key areas.”
“Hence more unrest.” Micky isn’t wrong.
In the week since Lachlan’s statement there have been protests, some peaceful, some in support of a tie to Norway, some against. The threats towards Blair have increased; we’ve upped security. If she thought she couldn’t move without two guards being there before, she now can’t breathe.
“I plan to give a statement to the press tomorrow about how we plan to proceed and make headway on this. I’ll also update them on my father’s health.” She looks pale. Her eyes find mine and I see the tears that she won’t let fall.
Padan is failing. He’s barely conscious for an hour in the day. His wife doesn’t leave his side. Her husband and her son in a twelve-month period, unless there’s a miracle and that’s what it will take. For all purposes, Blair is now the ruler of this tiny country that so many want to see as theirs.
“What are your leanings?” Micky asks. It’s unusual for him to bother to ask direct political questions, because he has no influence, nor does he want any.
“Deals without being owned by anyone else. Guarantee we have financial stability and avoid a crash. Freedom of movement and support with our defence. We have drafts of agreements drawn up based on our most recent discussions. They’ll go out formally next week and we’ll reconvene with Norway and England after Burns’ Night.” There’s no emotion to her words and it’s easy to see that this is nothing but a role that she has to do.
“You’re staying independent?” Micky looks directly at her. “That’s decided.”
“There’s no other decision to make. Not without a constitution and a referendum. That has wider implications.” She unties her hair that’s been on top of her head. It drops down her back, a waterfall of white gold.
I know what she’s considering. A parliament. Return control of the country to its people so it can no longer be governed by the wishes of one sole person.
