Order him to serve you.

No, you think, today restraint will not prevail.

"Try to remember that loyalty then. On your knees, Sir." You say with a saucy smile.

Freezing only for a fraction of a second, Jonathan obliges, finding his knees in front of you. Many men have kneeled in front of you. None like this.

"Lift my skirt." You command.

"Your Majesty, I cannot-" Jonathan begins.

"Lift my skirt... and pull down my panties." You continue. This time, the Marshal does what he's told.

You feel wet down there. Clearly Sir Jonathan, or the wielding of your power over him, has gotten you excited.

"Ever think you'd get this close to royalty?" You titter, in a way that's not like your usual self. In truth, Jonathan should've counted himself lucky. He was from a good family, and had had some success in skirmishes, but even you could've thought of a handful of better choices for Marshal, and you were only fifteen at the time of Jonathan's appointment.

Unable or unwilling to avert his eyes, Jonathan stares at the royal cunny.

"Why don't you show your deference? With a kiss..." You suggest. This the older man does not have to be told twice.

Leaning in, Jonathan plants a kiss on your wet twat. Gods, it feels good to have someone's mouth on it.

"More." You softly say, and Jonathan provides it.

He teases, worships and buries his tongue in your cunt. Jonathan conducts himself with the same efficiency and resolve he'd display on the battlefield, bringing you more pleasure than you had ever provided yourself with your fingers. Or your most vivid imaginings of Lili drizzled in honey.

"Fuck!" You gasp, moving back clumsily towards your bed. You drop onto the edge, and spread your legs. "Continue."

Jonathan does, steadying himself and diving in once again. Your knickers around your ankles, you stroke Sir Jonathan's dark hair, whispering encouragements as he goes about his task.

With Jonathan's constant, continuous pleasuring, you can only hold out for so long. Clenching the man's scalp, you let out a breathy and satisfying shudder as he makes you climax.

"What do you think, Majesty?" Jonathan asks, wiping his mouth. A smile had found its way onto his face.

"That if Count Stephen had a cunny, we would have nothing to worry about!" You say enthusiastically.

He chuckles.

"As always, it was quite the pleasure, Your-"

"Mathilda." You tell him.

"I'm sorry?" Jonathan responds.

"Gods, you just had your tongue inside me." You say. "When we're here, you may call me Mathilda."

"Of course... Mathilda." Jonathan says. "So you'll be requiring my services again?"

"I reserve the right to keep my options open, but probably." You tell him. In an ideal world you'd have Lili for a bedwarmer, and Jonathan for when magical business sends her from your side.

Glancing down at Jonathan, you notice an unmistakable bulge in his breeches. Here you were, being given a perfectly lovely orgasm, when you hadn't so much as touched him.

Seemed a little unfair...