The Blood Order

LIII

One month later. 

"Alright, my queen. You are cleared for all activities. Your weight has increased by a stable five pounds, your iron pool has increased, and the scars are healed nicely. Very thin lines. Barely noticeable. How are you feeling otherwise?"

"Better than before." I mumble. Raphael steps out to speak with a guard. I look towards the doctor for a moment between us, "Am I cleared for everything? Everything?" 

"Are you asking if you can be sexually active?" The doctor checks over his charts when I give him an embarrassed nod, "Your lungs are back to capacity, your muscles have fully recovered... I would say very much so. As per tradition, if you were to start trying for child you should be successful before your anniversary." 

"Everything okay?" Raphael grumbles entering the room. I suck in a breath at the sight of him. The doctor catches the red-faced terror that comes over me, thus choosing to avoid mentioning my latest question. 

"Yes, your majesty. She is a perfect vision of health." 

He gives a weird look to the doctor who steps back awkwardly, Raphael takes a moment before walking over to guide me off the bed. I give the doc a wave as we leave the room. His touch is gentle, a warm reminder of his comfort as he walks me through the halls. We stop by his main office to grab a few things and then head back to our room where I stretch-out on the bed. Raphael gives me a kiss before stepping into his office. 

Just fucking do it. 

I slide off the bed gliding over to the drawers that sit against the wall. Raphael has refused to touch me until I was cleared by the doctor, and my need to be with him grows by the minute. Our bond demands to be fed, and why are we the ones to deny such pleasures. 

My fingers land on a simple g-string with a matching sheer bra. Don't be a coward.

The bathroom calls my name. Walking in and closing the door behind me was a challenge in itself without giggling like an idiot. I'm not a virgin by any means, but the idea of being with someone who cares for me so deeply is a new rush. 

I drop the comfy clothes that I have been wearing this past month and hop into the shower. The warmth is a good motivator as I pin up my hair to keep it dry. I shave any area I can then hop out. The towel is rough against my skin as I dry quickly. The mirror mocks me as the scars cover my skin. Ignore it. He loves you anyway. 

The lingerie is foreign against me, but I encourage myself. You're attractive. He want's you. 

And you want him.

Stepping out of the bathroom was the hardest thing I've had to do yet. My feet stumble underneath me as I move into the middle of the suite. His voice is heard speaking with another one of his people, then the shuffle of papers. Come on. Do it. 

"Hey honey?" My voice is a whisper, the terror of him seeing me like this taking over. He mentions he has to go to the person he's speaking with before sliding his chair back. Raphael creaks open the door, his drink glass in hand. I watch his back while he closes the door behind him, then the slow turn as he makes eye contact with me. 

The glass is thrown onto the table next to him, his footsteps approaching me quickly. I feel his hand wrap into my hair turning my head to look up at him, "Sultana." 

"Please, please." I run my hands under his shirt, and before I could beg once more my back is on the bed and his body over me.