FALLEN ANGEL: MARRIED TO THE DEMON KING
Chapter 78: THE NIGHT OF A KING AND QUEEN

Chapter 78: THE NIGHT OF A KING AND QUEEN

Arella sat in her office that night, working on more coronation plans, the soft glow of the candlelight and firelight flickering over the parchment in front of her. The day had been a whirlwind for her. She had had dinner with her brother and had ensured he retired to bed before finally retiring back to her office for more work.

The king had been unable to join them because he had used up a big part of his day to watch as Arella tried on her gowns. Her brother had taken up all of her time, telling her all that she had missed in the demon realm. The child that had been born and the engagements that had been made.

To some extent, she was sad to have missed all that she had not been able to see in her hundred years in the human realm.

A soft knock at her study door pulled her out of her thoughts. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and King Varziel stepped inside. His eyes scanned the room before settling on her.

"You are still working?" His voice carried a tinge of concern. "It is late, my queen; let us go to bed."

Arella set her quill down, rubbing her temple after she did so. "There is still so much to be done and so little time. The seating arrangements alone are a nightmare. If I did not have Velmoria helping me, I would have died from overwork long ago."

His lips pulled up in a smirk as he crossed the room, his movements graceful as they always were. The moment he got close enough for his scent to reach Arella, wetness had already pooled in the juncture between her thighs. "I imagine no one would want to be seated next to someone they despise," he came to a stop, standing opposite her, leaning on her desk. "Politics over dinner—such a dangerous game."

"I do not quite understand it," Arella leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms and wings as she did so. "If you hate someone so badly, why go to an event that they are attending?"

"That is where you are mistaken, my queen." He said as he picked up the parchment she had been working on, "This is not just any event; it is the coronation of the new queen. There has not been a queen for years now. Only a fool would refuse to come."

"I guess I just do not yet understand the ways of demons," she remembered the reason her mother had gotten her kicked out of the angel realm: "Back home, if someone you dislike is attending a party, you do not attend it, in order to prevent the other angels from talking." She shut her eyes to rest them.

"Therein lies the difference between angels and demons, my queen." His voice was as smooth as silk as he placed the parchment back onto the desk. Arella could not see, but she knew he had walked to her side of the desk thanks to his scent growing stronger; "demons do not shy away from confrontation; they thrive in it."

Arella opened her eyes, watching him through her lashes. "That sounds terribly exhausting." He smirked as he perched himself on the edge of the table.

"Well, more like demons love drama." He raised his hand to touch a lock of her hair. Arella let him, letting out a soft sigh at his scent. It was slowly becoming a comforting scent for her. The firelight cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharpness of his features and the softness in his gaze.

As always, he was very gentle with her, very patient. She had so much to learn; their cultures were so different, but he never seemed to tire of answering all the questions she had, no matter how foolish they sounded even to her ears.

His gaze searched her face, and his expression darkened slightly. "You push yourself too hard."

She frowened slightly at his words, "You say that as if you do not."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound sending that usual delicious shiver down her spine. "I am not the one who spent most of her day working with designers and pleasing the whims of my brother before locking myself in my office for the night."

"I enjoyed all I did today."

"I do not say you did not," he gave her a boyish grin, showcasing those dimples she liked to see. "I am simply saying that I wish to spend time with you."

"Oh," Arella said simply.

Then her eyes widened as the realization of what he was actually saying sunk in, "Oh."

She pushed her chair back and stood, wrapping her arms around his figure after she was out of her seat. He wrapped his arms around her waist and sunk his face into her neck, taking deep breaths of her scent.

"It was a tortorous day for me." His voice sounded muffled. "Seeing you look so beautiful but not being able to do anything about it. I wished to throw everyone out and have my absolute way with you."

Arella allowed him to rant as she ran a hand through his locks, "I am here; you can do whatever you wish to me."

He raised his head from her neck and gave her a long stare. "I was going to do that irregardless. Your study is one of the places I have not had you yet. I wish for you to think of me while you work, and what better way to do it? If that will take you to bed earlier than me so that I find you asleep, so be it."

Arella laughed upon hearing his words, "My goodness. You really are insufferable. Why are you so adorable at this time? Huh?"

"Do my words not scare you?"

Arella gave him a wide smile. "Not really," she tugged at his hair gently to tilt his head back, "if I really did hate it, I would have run away from you the first day I got here."

She lowered her head to press her lips to his own, and his body relaxed as their tongues twined. The low groan he let out went straight to her core, fanning the flames of the heat that, as usual, threatened to consume her.

He raised her up from her standing position, positioning her on his lap such that her legs were wrapped around his waist, with the heels resting on the table. She could feel his hardness between her legs through the dress that she wore, and the sensation felt so good.

Every time, it felt as if it was the first time that they were touching.

Arella could not get enough of it.

She moved a little, rocking her core against him, and he let out a stifled moan through their kiss. Arella moved against him again, pressing herself into the hard, tantalizing heat between them.

He let out a low growl, his grip on her hips tightening as his fingers dug into the soft fabric of her gown. His restraint was always thin, a fragile thread she was coming to learn she could snap with a single action.

"You are playing a dangerous game, Ella." He murmured against her lips, his breath hot, his voice thick with desire.

Arella smiled, threading her fingers through his thick locks, tugging slightly. "What will you do if I continue to play?"

A wicked gleam passed through his crimson eyes as she took his mouth in another kiss, putting all of her own desire into it.

Using his hands, he directed her movements, going up and down. Her wings were stretched out behind her, balancing her in the position. Arella felt her muscles winding tighter and tighter every time he pressed her to him. She could feel the pleaure within her become sharper, more concentrated, and the pressure kept on building, both sweet and torturous.

"Varziel," she moaned out his name in a pleading tone, although she was also not quite sure what she was pleading for.

He seemed to know exactly what she needed, though, as he reached for the hem of her dress, pushing it back until he exposed the top of her thighs. Bringing his hands between her legs, he entered her slightly with his fingers. Arella’s gasp was covered by his lips, meeting hers once more.

He slid his fingers fully inside her, thrusting slowly. Arella’s body seemed to have a mind of its own as it moved of its own accord, following the pleasure his touch brought. Her mind had gone blank, and the only thing she could think about was the exquisite sensation of his fingers inside of her.

He slowly rubbed her clit, which elicited a loud moan from her. Her back involuntarily arched back as he alternated between rubbing her clit and thrusting inside her until she was on the edge of cumming.

"I want to see you lose control for me, my queen." The king muttered in her ear, his voice a mere whisper.

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