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Cassia puts her book into her lap before she turns slightly to look at the man half-napping next to her.
“You've been an Emperor for decades.”
His eyes flutter for a moment as she shifts to look at her, a slight frown on his face that he always sports when someone interrupts one of his naps.
“Yes,” Emet-Selch simply says before giving her a strange look. “Was there supposed to be a question in this?”
Briefly, Cassia’s eyes are stuck on her book before she bites her lip in anticipation of what question is running through her mind.
“In all that time, have you ever…” she starts off, hesitating briefly. When Emet-Selch gives her an expectant look, Cassia clears her throat before she tries again. “Did you ever have sex right there, on the throne?”
It is definitely not a question he had expected, judging from the way his eyebrows rise up.
“My throne?” he asks, curiosity spreading all over his face. “Why do you ask, what gave you the idea?”
“Oh, just my current book,” Cassia murmurs, gesturing at the book still in her lap.
His eyes fall onto the plain cover, and he asks with a mischievous grin, “Oh, and what kind of book are you reading where this comes up?”
Cassia lets out a soft snort.
“What do you think?” she counters.
Emet-Selch’s look stays the same as he sits up to lean comfortably against the headboard before he holds out his hand.
“Show me,” he demands, and Cassia opens the book to the scene that prompted her question before handing it to him. She watches his eyes fly over the page, his smile steadily widening with every sentence.
“Ah, my dear, this is positively filthy,” he points out not much later, his voice full of appreciation for that fact.
“Lyse recommended it to me,” Cassia says with a shrug before her own curiosity is back. “So, did you?”
Emet-Selch is still reading as he shakes his head.
“No, I have not,” he says before his eyes widen at the following paragraph, and he adds with a murmur, “But I'm starting to regret it.”
“Truly never?” Cassia asks with a hint of disbelief.
Emet-Selch closes the book and puts it aside onto the nightstand before he gives an almost apologetic shrug.
“I wish I could regale you with a more gripping tale, my dear, but it never came up.”
“If I were an empress,” Cassia muses, “I'd simply decree one daily throne ravaging. For morale!”
At that, his eyes sparkle with amusement.
“If you were an empress?”
“I would look good in a crown,” Cassia argues with a small chuckle.
A moment later, Emet-Selch reaches for her and drags her further onto the bed with him.
“You would look amazing,” he says with a small growl before he presses her into the mattress, leaning over her to leave a playful kiss on her half-bare shoulder.
“Tell me, empress , what would that look like?” he murmurs against her skin. “You all alone in your throne room until each day, at the arranged time, your favorite concubine offers you relief from your duties?”
“Hmm, interesting,” Cassia replies with a sigh as she feels a hint of teeth on her skin. “That you would cast yourself as the concubine and not as my rightful spouse.”
Emet-Selch lets out a genuine laugh.
“You're the empress, my dear! Spouses are opportunities and peace contracts.” He leaves a trail of kisses along her shoulder and neck. “Everyone knows it’s the concubine that holds the ruler’s heart.”
“Everyone knows?” Cassia asks, gasping slightly as his hands roam over her nightgown.
“Naturally! Read any good book on the topic. Or watch a play.”
Emet-Selch’s eyes sparkle as he stops what he is doing for a moment to give her a playful look.
“Pff,” Cassia snorts, “You wouldn’t happen to be the author of those, right?”
He tilts his head as his smile widens.
“Only half of them, at most!”
For a moment, Emet-Selch stills as he looks down at her, fondness and mischievousness in equal parts in his eyes. His hand traces the side of her face before it slips into her hair.
“You, my dear, would look magnificent on a throne,” he says in a low voice filled with what sounds like reverence.
Cassia swallows as his gaze turns more heated. The thought of ruling over anything is not one that occupies her mind at all, nor would it be something she could see herself be interested in. But she can not deny the shiver of excitement that runs through her when Emet-Selch simply looks at her like this.
“Well, I could offer you a reasonably fancy couch at best, I’m afraid,” she murmurs.
Emet-Selch lets out a small laugh as he rolls his eyes at her.
“You know,” he says with a resigned sigh. “Sometimes it pains me, your lack of imagination. Especially when it comes to using aether.”
It’s not the first time he has raised his eyebrows at her tendency to completely disregard any sort of magic as a solution for anything. It is simply not her first instinct, something he seems to find endlessly amusing.
“You forget that not all of us can easily weave creation magic, love,” Cassia points out, and suddenly his face is much closer as he leans in until she can feel his breath on her face.
“And you, my dear, forget that you are sharing your bed with the one person around who can.”
His voice is but a low murmur, and Cassia swallows again as it seeps underneath her skin. But, from the glint in his eyes, he knows exactly what he is doing. Emet-Selch is well aware of what effect it has on her whenever his voice drops lower, and he is never hesitant to use that fact to his advantage.
“So what,” Cassia mumbles, ignoring her suddenly much dryer throat. “I just have to ask, and you’ll build me a throne?”
A hearty laugh rings through their bedroom before he lets his lips brush over hers.
“My dear, you just have to ask, and I’ll build you a whole empire.”
He almost growls the last bit, delighting in the slight shudder that wrecks through her.
“This is both terribly romantic and a little bit concerning given that I know you are fully capable of it,” Cassia points out before she tries to close the last bit of distance between them. But as she tries to kiss him, Emet-Selch leans back a bit and gives her a thoughtful look.
“I guess I won’t need to go through the whole process,” he deliberates, looking deeply in thought for a moment. “It’s long and tedious, after all. A decent stage and some props should do the trick.” He winks at her. “You are an actress, after all.”
It sounds much more like a genuine plan than a random idea, and Cassia blinks in confusion before she fully understands he is not being theoretical about this.
“And if you set all that up - then what?” she asks full of curiosity. The way his smile widens into a telling grin sends another shiver through her.
“Well, then you call for your favorite concubine, of course, to serve your every whim,” Emet-Slech says almost casually, but there is a heat still in his eyes that is mesmerizing.
“That does sound appealing,” Cassia murmurs, and as if he had just waited for her to say anything in affirmation really, he suddenly moves, getting up and pulling her along with him. He snaps his fingers once, and the bedroom suddenly shifts. It’s like the world turns into something liquid, everything flowing and malleable, before it turns into something solid again, and just like that, they are standing in a lavish throne room.
It takes Cassia a few seconds to recognize the decor.
“Is this the Garlean royal palace?” she asks with wide eyes, taking in the sheer vastness of the place.
“Not the real one, of course,” Emet-Selch assures her. “I wouldn’t whisk you away to such a place.”
She didn’t expect him to, but his words are reassuring nonetheless. With utter fascination, she looks around. Real or not, it doesn’t change just how impressive the place seems to her.
“Hm, let’s see,” Emet-Selch murmurs next to her before he snaps his fingers once more, and suddenly her nightgown is replaced with a simple dress.
“No, too plain.” He shakes his head and snaps again. The dress turns into something made out of leather, but again he seems not entirely satisfied.
“Too rustic,” he complains before snapping once again, and this time his smile widens.
“There, this should do the trick.”
For a second, Cassia feels like he has simply disappeared her clothes altogether, so light is the fabric on her skin. The material is almost sheer, held together by golden strings and covering only what’s absolutely necessary.
“Just a little,” Emet-Selch adds at that moment, and with a wave of his hand, her hair comes down.
“Yes, perfect!”
Cassia takes a look down at herself and chuckles as she realizes that she is wearing less than she had for many of her more provocative shows.
“That is scandalously little to wear for a ruler,” she points out with a telling smile.
Emet-Selch gives her a slightly patronizing look.
“Would you prefer five layers of stiff cloth for this endeavor?” he asks playfully, and Cassia immediately shakes her head as she imagines the hassle it would bring.
“I would not!”
A moment and another smile later, he is nudging her towards the throne.
“You should take your rightful place then, Your Radiance,” Emet-Selch says with a teasing look, and, just like that, Cassia finds herself sitting on the Garlean throne, looking over the entirety of the massive throne room like she belongs there.
She doesn’t. The vastness of the whole throne room is almost a little intimidating, despite it being empty and even despite her knowing it’s not real. The throne sits high atop a couple of stairs so that even when sitting down, whoever occupies it towers over anyone standing at the feet of the stairs. It’s a symbol of power, carefully designed to shift the balance between the one atop and those below.
Emet-Selch doesn’t lose any of the power that practically radiates from him, not even when he kneels in front of her. A knowing smile is on his lips as Cassia gasps at the weight, and then his lips are on her skin, leaving a trail of kisses up her leg.
“Tell me what you want,” he prompts in-between kisses, and Cassia swallows as she can’t tear her eyes off him.
The idea of being in charge, with all its intriguing possibilities, pales in comparison to the desire that rages through her, calling for something else.
“I don’t think I’m meant to be an empress,” Cassia gets out between small moans as she feels his teeth scratch over her skin.
The kisses stop, and Emet-Selch leans back a bit, looking at her with inquisitive eyes.
“You really have no desire to rule over anyone, don’t you?”
It’s more of a statement than a question, but Cassia shakes her head nonetheless.
“None whatsoever,” she admits, and to her relief, he doesn’t look disappointed at all, only thoughtful.
“Would you like to change the game then, my dear?”
Cassia lets out a breathless gasp as his lips graze over the inside of her thigh.
“Maybe,” she teases him before spreading her legs enough, so he has more room. “This is your throne; you’ve been orchestrating an entire empire from it for decades.” She lets her hand run through his hair, pulling playfully at the soft strands. “It may have all been of a greater goal, but I know you. I know you’ve enjoyed the power that came with it.”
Emet-Selch chuckles softly against her skin.
“Of course I did; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been this good at it,” he admits before his teeth join in, coaxing a moan from her.
“Then you can’t tell me it wouldn’t give you a rush to have your way with me, to claim me right on it,” she breathes out.
With a low growl, Emet-Selch tears himself away to look at her.
“You could always tell me exactly what you want and see what happens,” he says with a challenge burning in his eyes, but Cassia can feel how his hands lightly tense on her legs, barely concealing his desires.
“You could always take whatever you want, being as powerful as you are,” she points out with a sweet smile.
The shorts flash in Emet-Selch’s eyes is the only warning she gets before he is suddenly on her.
“You should know better than to provoke me like this.”
He sweeps her up as if she weighs nothing, and a moment later, Cassia finds their positions reversed as he sits down on his throne, with her between his legs.
“I think I know you just right,” she murmurs as she sinks down to her knees without hesitation.
Emet-Selch gives her a fond look as his hand slips into her hair, pulling her closer.
“It seems like you do, my dear,” he says, his voice rough than before as he goes from looking at her to look over the vast throne room. “I must say,” he adds in a low voice, “this is certainly a much more potent view than I imagined.”
“Let me see if I can improve on that,” Cassia teases before she licks a broad stripe over his hard cock.
The moan that leaves Emet-Selch’s mouth is invigorating, and her smile widens before she reaches for him and takes him into her mouth. The hand in her hair tightens, nudging her head along just the slightest bit.
“Claim you right here on the throne,” he murmurs between soft moans. “Is this how you had that in mind?”
Cassia doesn’t answer directly; instead, she takes him deeper for a moment, relishing in the low groan it coaxes from him before she draws back a bit.
“Among other things,” she replies in a husky voice. “I could imagine you claim me in every way possible.”
Her words sent another tremor through him, and once more, his hand in her hair tightens. Wordlessly he guides her head back where he wants it, his cock pushing into her mouth once more. Cassia moans around the heavy weight of him on her tongue. She closes her lips tightly before she slightly shifts, relaxes her throat, and lets him push deeper. The noise Emet-Selch makes lets heat pool between her legs. He isn’t rough, but there is an urgency behind his grip on her hair and the insistent push of his hips that belies the still rather calm look on his face. He moves her back, giving her enough time to breathe deeply before he pulls her closer again until her lips are all the way down to close around the base of his shaft.
“But how to claim you, how to show the entire world that you’re mine if no one is watching?”
Emet-Selch’s nearly growled words sent a shiver through Cassia. She swallows once around his cock before he pulls her back again, and she gasps for air, arousal running through her and making her brim with excitement. Then, finally, Cassia draws back enough, so he slips out of her mouth with a soft pop.
“You would want to take me in front of an audience?” she asks breathlessly, even though she already knows the answer.
“You would want me to take you in front of an audience,” Emet-Selch points out with a knowing grin. “And I am more than inclined to oblige.”
“It’s not necessary,” Cassia murmurs, but his smile only widens.
“Maybe so, but why not enjoy that I have the means to give you whatever you want?”
Emet-Selch’s knuckles graze over her cheek as he leans further down.
“You rarely ask me for anything,” he murmurs. “When you know full well I would give you anything. You could ask for so much more...”
His words send shivers down her spine. With a casual wave of his hand, something around them shifts, and a moment later, the air is filled with quiet murmurs and the rustling of clothes. When Cassia turns enough to look over her shoulder, she can see the throne room is now filled with people. They look like palace guards, ministers, and ordinary people, all here to have an audience with their Emperor. And every single one of them is looking at her.
It is an illusion, of course, just like the throne room itself. Cassia knows it, but to her surprise, the effect the illusion has on her is very much real. It’s potent enough to have her have to fight the reflex of letting her hand drop between her legs right there.
But Emet-Selch knows her well enough, sees even the slightest tension in her.
“Ah, my dear,” he laughs, “you are predictable in the most delightful ways.”
A moment later, he reaches for her, and as he turns her further, he pulls her up and onto his lap.
“Look at all these loyal subjects, come to catch a glimpse of their ruler, only to see much more than expected,” Emet-Selch whispers hotly in her ears, and Cassia shudders in his grasp.
A devious idea runs through Cassia’s mind.
“What if I didn’t want them to see? What if I wanted to keep your affections for me private?” she murmurs, and she can feel the slight gasp he lets out against her neck before his hands on her get firmer.
“You wouldn’t dare deny your emperor,” Emet-Selch growls behind her. He lets his hands run down her body and onto her legs before he spreads them apart, exposing her to their phantom audience.
“If I want to show you off, you will not only let me, you will enjoy it,” he promises her, and Cassia knows there is no question about it.
She is already dripping wet to prove his claim.
“How about you tell them, tell the world what you want me to do to you, hm?” he asks, and Cassia can practically hear the satisfied smile shine through his tone as he reaches for her chin and nudges her to look at the crowd. The crowd that is suddenly murmuring, focusing on her as if they are waiting to hear what she says.
It is mesmerizing the effect his illusion has on her. Cassia knows full well they are alone. Alone and most likely still in her room, and yet everything around her feels remarkably real. People whispering in the crowd below, someone clearing his throat as someone else gets shushed. When Cassia holds on the side of the throne, she can feel the cold touch of marble beneath her fingertips. She hears the slight echo her heavy breathing makes in the large chamber. The illusion is perfect in every way that matters, and her body doesn’t seem to care that her mind knows it’s not real.
She is so immersed in the roles that they play it is almost like being on stage in a play. Somehow she has the feeling that this just might turn out to be her favorite role of all.
“I want you to fuck me,” Cassia claims loudly, and the way her voice carries through the room has her almost freeze for a moment. The murmuring crowd goes quiet, looking at them in expectation.
“I think you can do better,” Emet-Selch chides her before his hands are on her breasts. His fingers playfully pull on her piercings before rolling her nipples between them until Cassia lets out a small moan. “You are in the presence of royalty, after all.”
He pulls again, and Cassia leans into his touch as her eyes flutter shut.
“Your Radiance,” she breathes out, “please, I want you to fuck me, Your Radiance!”
A shiver of excitement runs through Emet-Selch at her words.
“How could I ever refuse such a heartfelt plea,” he says as he places a kiss on the side of her neck. “And besides, all these people really expect a show, don’t they?”
His hands run down her sides, fingertips leaving behind trails of goosebumps on her heated skin as they slowly move lower and lower.
“Please,” Cassia finds herself begging as her hands try to find purchase, something to hold on to while her body quivers under his light and still teasing touch. “I need you!”
“You have me,” comes Emet-Selch’s almost playful sounding reply. With a snap of his fingers, he takes care of their clothes. His hands settle on her hips, and suddenly he nudges her to move.
“Turn around,” he murmurs.
Cassia moves the moment he says it, but she can’t help a small pang of disappointment as she realizes that she won’t be able to see into the throne room anymore. As if he is reading her mind, Emet-Selch lets out an amused chuckle.
“Don’t worry, my dear, this is temporary,” he assures her as he pulls her back onto the wide throne and his lap until her knees rest left and right of his legs. “I won’t let you miss the full spectacle, but some preparation is in order.”
Her hands rest on Emet-Selch’s shoulders as he teases the tip of her breast with his tongue, and Cassia shivers again.
“Preparation?” she asks in confusion, and she feels him smile against her skin.
“You wanted me to claim you in every way possible, my dear,” he says in a low voice filled with promise as his warm hand runs down her back, slowly, teasingly, but not stopping as it goes steadily lower.
“Oh,” she sighs as she realizes where he is going with this, and a shudder of anticipation runs through her.
Emet-Selch’s other hand is between her shoulder blades, holding her easily against him as his fingers tease around the tight ring of muscle of her ass. He prods gently, watching her hold her breath in anticipation before he snaps once, and then his fingers, now slick, press into her, widening and stretching her gradually. It has been a while for her, like this, and Cassia mewls softly under the intense sensations he sends through her body. She finds herself pushing back onto his hand, impatient and wanting more, but it takes a while until he is satisfied that she is prepared.
When his fingers leave her, so does a noise of protest that he completely ignores as he wordlessly nudges her to get up and turns her around once more. The sight that greets her is that of a throne room filled with people that look nothing but eager to watch her, and it takes Cassia’s breath away. Her sharp gasp for air turns into a moan when he spreads her ass apart, and Cassia feels the head of his cock press against the tight ring of muscle.
Half-supported on his lap and half on her legs that barely reach the ground in front of the massive throne, Cassia lifts herself before she pushes back against him, causing his hands to tighten on her hips and a low growl to leave his mouth.
Even with all his preparation, she is tight around him, each ilm he pushes inside her causing a delicious stretch. Heavy breaths fill the air as Emet-Selch wraps an arm around her and draws her closer until she is flush against his chest. A strangled moan leaves her as she fully sinks down onto his cock.
“Can you,” she breathes, trying to find a semblance of coherent words.
“Can I what?” Emet-Selch sounds amused and still far too composed for her tastes, and Cassia grinds herself against him until she hears him gasp sharply again.
“What you did with your aether, your magic,” she starts to describe. “When you touched me like that, can you do it again?”
A surprised laugh leaves him. “My dear, you are completely insatiable, aren’t you?” Emet-Selch murmurs, but he doesn’t hesitate to do as she asks, even for a moment.
Already Cassia feels the blissful cool sensation of his magic washing over her, sending a tingling sensation all over her skin. Flickering touches spread over her body as the formless smoke of aether around her forms into something more solid. Several something more solids, that is.
Emet-Selch wastes no time teasing her. A solid tendril of aether is between her legs, the tip of it rubbing over her folds and sending shivers of pleasure through her before it dips inside, filling her to the brim. But he doesn’t stop there. Another solid bit of his magic trails down her stomach, lower and lower, until it spreads her folds apart and finds her clit. Flickering motions alternating with deft strokes send pure heat through her, despite their cooling touch, and Cassia’s mouth falls open. She feels close to screaming in pleasure when something slides over her lips.
Like the last time, the aether is smooth and solid as it pushes into her mouth, muffling her moans and noises of pleasure as her lips close around it.
And then Emet-Selch starts to move. But not just his body; all of him does. His cock slides blissfully in and out of her ass while his aether fills her up in every other possible way, thrusting in tune with the rocking of their bodies.
The aether pushing into her fills her perfectly, hitting just the right spot with every thrust. Her breasts tingle with pleasure as smaller tendrils tease her nipples endlessly, and Cassia can’t help the sheer unending string of moans rising in her throats at just how perfectly another part of Emet-Selch’s aether rubs over her clit, every stroke perfectly timed with the deep thrusts of his cock in her ass.
For a moment, Cassia’s eyes flutter shut, and her head falls onto his shoulder as the many different sensations run through her, leaving her nearly breathless.
“Keep your eyes open,” Emet-Selch says with a low growl, a slight shake in his voice betraying his seemingly flawless composure. “After all, if they get to see everything, so should you!”
A deep moan, muffled by the solid aether in her mouth, spills from Cassia’s lips when she does as he asks.
All eyes are on her.
The room is filled to the brim with people, and not one of them is looking away. Cassia can see the closest ones’ faces, can see their eyes wandering up and down her body, lingering every now and then. There is nothing respectful in their looks. Each gaze on her stokes the fire burning within her core, running over her skin in heated flushes. They leer and stare until Cassia feels like she herself is close to being on fire, sizzling heat meeting Emet-Selch’s cold and soothing touch.
“All of them staring, wanting what they can’t have,” Emet-Selch whispers hotly into her ear when another rush of aether flickers over her skin. There is a clear intention behind the magic, something demanding and possessive as it takes shape and another thick tendril wraps around her throat. Yet, it doesn’t feel threatening as it heavily curls around her and his magic presses her closely into him. Cassia’s legs start shaking as he speeds up.
“Mine!” Emet-Selch growls, sounding almost harsh for a moment, and then his aether in her swells, and his hold tightens.
The whole room holds its breath. The low hum of enthusiastic murmurs dies down into a silence so clear one could hear a needle fall.
Cassia’s scream of pleasure is much louder than that, echoing through the hall as her release shakes her whole body. Her moans mix with Emet-Selch’s as he follows right after, and their voices linger in the air together for a moment as Cassia sinks against his chest.
The crowd is still watching, hungry eyes meeting her from all across the room, and even though it’s over and, most of all, not real, the looks send another shiver through her.
“That was… different,” Cassia murmurs as she lets her head fall back against his shoulder. Her breath keeps slowing down gradually as she practically melts against him, all tension having left her body. Around her the strands of solid aether become translucent before they slowly disappear, one by one, leaving nothing behind but the touch of his skin against hers.
“It was your idea, my dear,” Emet-Selch says with an amused chuckle before he snaps his fingers once, and, just like that, they are back in the familiarity of their bedroom.
“It was not,” Cassia protests with a breathless laugh. “I merely asked a very innocent question, caused by a piece of literature!”
He snorts as he shoots a look at the abandoned book that lies still open on top of the covers.
“I am not entirely convinced I’d call that book ‘literature’,” Emet-Selch murmurs. He keeps cradling her against him, one of his hands drawing nonsensical patterns of soft caresses over the skin of her back.
“But I concede your point, the idea was all mine,” he admits with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Thanks to your inspiring question.”
Cassia almost purrs from his relaxing touch. Her lips graze over his shoulder in a soft kiss.
“I should clearly ask you inspiring questions much more often,” she giggles, and when she looks up at him she is greeted by a raised eyebrow.
“Are you implying that our usual romps in the sheets lack creativity?”
Emet-Selch sounds almost insulted, but Cassia knows he is not serious. It’s hard to resist playing along, though.
“I could ask for so much more,” she quotes his own words back at him with a wink.
A slight growl is the only warning she gets before he moves and she finds herself under him and on the bed.
“Is that so?” Emet-Selch says in a low voice, and the look he gives her sends a renewed shiver through her whole body. “Let’s hear another question then, my dear.”
Cassia’s breath goes faster as she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“You’ve been an avid patron of the theater,” she starts, licking her lips before her next words. “Have you ever done it in one of the boxes during a performance?”
“Have you?” he asks, and Cassia shakes her head.
“Not yet…”
A promising smile widens on his face.
“During a play? I think I’d enjoy seeing you struggle to keep quiet, my dear,” Emet-Selch says, and his voice is filled with raw desire as he leans in to kiss her.
Cassia’s eyes flutter shut under the feeling of his demanding lips back on her own. Despite her exhaustion, she can feel the renewed spark of arousal run through her.
“Aren’t you glad I have all these questions?” Cassia murmurs against his lips as he lets up enough so she can breathe.
Emet-Selch’s reply is a warm chuckle.
“My dear, I hope you never run out of them,” he says with an amused smile. “Now, what theater did you have in mind?”