The Throne
“All rise for Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth,” The herald had a voice like a foghorn. If Buffy didn’t start wearing earplugs every day, she’d be deaf by the time she turned thirty.
The court took their seats as she ruffled her skirts. The hoops were strategic and if she didn’t carefully place them, the court would no longer call her the Virgin Queen.
Lord Giles stood to address the room, and she tried to look interested. But every time he spoke, she became bored. Even if the Spanish were invading, Giles just made the news tedious. He currently had the ‘Do listen, Buffy’ face on right now, as if he knew she was zoning in and out.
It was only when Lord Angelus took the floor that her interest was...aroused. His face was just so pretty, even if his words were nonsense. He looked particularly cute because he was trying to concentrate and she couldn’t help herself. She slipped her hand between the folds of lace and silk to feel the wetness of her skin.
She was bored, okay? And Angel was in his best livery. Buffy bit her lip to quell a moan. Some of the court looked ruffled at her minxy expression. She had a libido, damnit!
Her fingers found the spot inside, a cloud of pleasure swamping her senses. She had to come quickly because it was almost time for her to see the people. Her fingers sped up and she kept as still as she could as she came.
She didn’t feel the sharp knife before it was too late.
*
He had been awake for hours. He really fucking hated when a job couldn’t be bothered to either be a daytime or night time job. He needed his goddamned sleep. He’d been up all night carving out the throne with the flimsiest of chisels. The cut of is abs was better than that thing.
Spike walked along the precipice until he reached the hanging drapes that fell behind the throne. He dropped to the ground, the stone not making a sound at his sudden presence. He crawled to the throne and found the hollowed section he’d spent forever on. His trusty dagger had plenty of room through the wide hole, except...what was the Queen doing?
She was diddling herself! Oh man, she had a tight little arse. Spike couldn’t even imagine the wonder of her movement beneath her skirts.
*
She really wished she had the scythe she kept beneath her pillow. She startled when a foreign finger found a pleasurable spot upon her back, quite lower than the knife.
“If you move, your majesty, I’ll knife you through the heart.”
“You’re the assassin who has been killing off the family.” His hand began sweeping across the skin he could find behind the fabric.
“You wouldn’t have liked them anyway, cheeky girl like you. Fingering yourself in the throne room? If the cardinals knew!”
She blushed and some of the clergymen shot her a particularly god-fearing glare.
“Whoever you are, I’ll have you whipped with barbs and cut with daggers if you do not unhand me.” Buffy could totally be verbose if she wanted to.
“I think you like my hands, pet. You getting wet under that silk?”
Her lips didn’t move as she uttered death towards her assassin.
“You will face dire consequences. Do not plan to leave this room.”
His chuckle was soft, but his hands wrenched her back, intimate openings just a lick away.
Not a soul noticed that the Queen was uncharacteristically leaning forward on her throne. She certainly wasn’t enthralled with the speaker.
She gasped as the assassin penetrated her, cock hot with the fire of blood pumping through the man’s body. Her breath caught between her heart and her lips, choked with want as he pumped within her body.
When a particularly bratty baron called up from the back, she came within her skirts and all over his cock.
Spike smirked as the Queen tried to right herself without actually moving. He jacked himself off with one hand until the throne was covered in come. He disappeared behind the drapes, trying to blend in but one of those loud herald motherfuckers saw him.
“Lord William has returned!”
“Fuck.” His dagger was lost to her skirts.
The Queen turned to see her most handsome Lord, unruffled but with a rapidly spreading wet spot on the front of his hosiery.
“You traitor!” She whispered behind her plastic smile as he came to kneel before her.
“Hey, I love the Crown!” He stood to move away from her but the Queen of England was quick on her feet.
The crowd gasped when she clipped him over the top of his bright blond head.
“I’ll deal with you later. In my chambers.”
She had to see the people, she couldn’t let upstart Lord get in her way.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This is for Sotia's birthday. She's a brilliant person.