The Raven

Twenty

"It has begun, Your Majesty," Delilah says as she enters the king's private chambers. She struts into the first of the series of rooms without bothering to knock as if it is familiar to her. A confident aura surrounds her, one that blatantly declares that she belongs within these rooms designated solely for the king and clearly displays that this is not her first time permitting herself entry. "Things have been set into motion for the fulfillment of the prophecy," she explains, a sense of pride swelling in her chest as if every positive event recently unfolding is all thanks to her.

"Excellent," the king replies, rising from his seat on the bed and taking several steps toward the woman. "I presume that the trap is set appropriately? Can I trust it has been presented as tempting enough to lure in our prey?" he questions. His voice holds a firmness that would cause at least a sliver of apprehension in any ordinary person; however, it does not seem to affect her in such a way. Instead, it appears to only awaken previously dormant feelings of lust within her, which are further solidified by the eyes raking over her body in the most greedy and lewd way.

"Yes, Your Majesty," she breathes, her body trembling at the arousing air suddenly surrounding the two of them. The flame of desire within her spreads quickly, fanning through her entire body. "I believe I have done an adequate job ensuring the plan will transpire successfully. I have been personally keeping watch as things progress," she continues after clearing her throat to distract herself from the quivering heat within her core. It is a difficult task to remain unbothered in the king's presence, especially when Delilah is so helplessly in love with him. "I believe it will not be long now before the prey is completely caught and tangled in our web." The woman's gaze roams over His Majesty's state of undress, his unclothed chest a feast to her hungry eyes, spiking the already raging sexual desire brewing within her.

"And what of the bait, Delilah? Is the raven still unaware of the plan?" he questions, flexing his muscles as he sets his hands on his hips, putting himself more on display to the obviously sex-starved woman. The king's body responds fervently to her, his pants tightening in the groin the longer she stares at him with that ravenous glimmer in her eyes as if he were a delicious dessert served on a silver platter; it pleases him in a way that only she can.

Struggling to look away from his bare, muscular torso and the prominent bulge just below the waistband of his pants, Delilah somehow manages to stutter out a response. "Y-yes, Your Majesty. He remains unaware and wholly unassuming; I have ensured to raise him with a veil of naivety for this specific purpose. I suspect this stage of the plan will go off without a hitch."

"Very well," the king praises, sending a shock of warmth through the woman's body. He carefully pets her hair, and lowly says, "You are a good little witch, are you not?" The way Delilah looks up at him with her beaming smile and her bright eyes filled with appreciation for his slightly condescending words makes him imagine all the dirty and entirely inappropriate things he could do to her right now. He mentally pictures the ways he could touch her, how he could bend her to his will without any effort at all, to have her come undone before him without inhibition or hesitation. His already rigid shaft stiffens impossibly further at the thought, twitching in the confines of his pants and begging to be put to use. Temporarily putting those ideas on pause, he says, "Continue to keep watch, but do not interfere under any circumstances. Everything must go precisely according to plan; we did not spend the last eighteen years plotting just to be thwarted now."

The command in his tone sends a shiver down her spine; Delilah would never allow a man to order her around, and yet, when the king does it, she is so unnaturally eager to please him. It both excites and disgusts her simultaneously; a fool in love, she is, allowing a man to demand anything of her. Finally able to meet his eyes again, the witch quietly answers, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Remember, Delilah, the fate of our kingdom relies on this plan. We are all relying on you. Do not mess this up, or the consequences will be dire. For everyone, but especially for you," warns the king.

"I will not fail you, My King," Delilah vows, bowing her head slightly in submission. She takes a deep breath to calm the fire burning within her, thoroughly understanding that His Majesty's warning is much more than a threat; she absolutely cannot mess this up.

"Good. Now, come here; allow me to reward you for your loyalty and obedience," His Majesty says seductively, gesturing for the witch to approach him. Eagerly, Delilah closes the space between herself and the king, allowing him to embrace her. His touches are rough and unrestrained, filled with unrestricted power that Delilah cannot deny. She surrenders herself to him willingly as he kisses her hard, his lips and hands devouring her simultaneously. Being in the arms of the man she loves eases any doubts or guilt she had previously held about her actions. Surely, if it is the king's will, their seemingly evil plan must be for the greater good of the kingdom, right?

However, no one needs to know that she does not intend to keep to the original plan. Eighteen years ago, the witch had devised her own scheme, using the plan with the king to cover her tracks. By the time the king discovers the purpose behind her seemingly blind obedience to him, it will be far too late; she will have progressed too far by then to turn back. Not even her love for the king could stop her. The impending betrayal shadows her heart with a cloud of doubt, which soon ebbs away into a thrilling shudder that rushes down her spine; something about the mere idea of secretly using the king for her own benefit increases her desire for him.

As His Majesty's lips descend upon her neck, all thoughts of plans and betrayals escape her entirely, her mind emptying as if it had never had anything within it, to begin with. In this moment, there is only them, a woman and the man she loves. Just two people passionately consuming one another, their hands desperately tearing at each other's clothes in a heated frenzy. With everything else forgotten, Delilah loses herself in her king, allowing him to possess her entirely.