#queen surana

[darlingrutherford]

Kinktober Day 9

Happy day 9 of Kinktober, all!

Thanks so much to everyone’s patience. Day 7 and 8 will be posted eventually, I’m just still lagging a bit behind with everything going on. In the meantime, here’s today’s fill, brought to you by this lovely request via Anon: “Alistair's queen riding him into oblivion on the throne.”

Kinktober Day 9- Throne | Ao3 posting coming soon | Alistair Theirin/Lana Surana | Surana as Queen AU | Explicit - sex on the throne, what else? ;) | 18+ only, please!

Being King never seemed to get easier. There were days when the crown felt heavier than others, sometimes even after the end of a long day of sitting and listening to complaints with little break between. Today had been one of those days, where everyone in Ferelden seemed to have come to pick a fight with the King over matters that he wasn’t sure he was fit to solve. As Alistair sat on the throne and the final person filtered out of the throne room, he slumped with a loud sigh, closing his eyes as the guards shut the great wooden doors and he was left with his first moment of silence that day. Not two minutes had gone by when he heard the doors creak as they opened once more, and Alistair groaned. Fully ready to whine for a moment of peace, he cracked open an eye before perking up as his queen entered the room. He watched her say something quietly to the guards, before making her way towards him as they left, closing the doors behind them.

“Maker, but you look beautiful,” Alistair sighed, slumping back down in the throne with a smile as she walked across the long rug that led to the throne. He could feel her smile reach him from halfway across the room as soft, light blue fabric swayed amongst her feet. 

“You look exhausted,” Lana said sweetly as she climbed the few steps to his throne. “You’ve been in here for ages today.”

“Yes, well… A king’s work is never done, I suppose,” he sighed. He hummed happily as she placed a hand on either of his shoulders, his hands traveling towards her waist like magnets as she straddled his hips. He ran his hands up her sides, the fabric smooth beneath his palms as he grasped at her breasts without hesitation, knowing that they were alone. 

“You work so hard for your people,” she said quietly, leaning forward to press soft lips against his own. Her kiss lingered for a moment, sweet and tender, before pulling away as she trailed two fingers down the bridge of his nose, around his cheeks, then down his jaw, all the while she looked at each spot appreciatively and with a warmth that made Alistair melt beneath her. If she continued, he would be naught but a puddle on the throne, he was sure of it. “Surely the King deserves a reward or two?”

She leaned forward again, and this time Alistair breathed her in as their lips met. His tongue licked at her lips, pressing its way in to explore her mouth as her lips gladly parted for him. His hands squeezed at her as she pressed against him, thumbs rubbing over her through the fabric until he could feel her nipples perk beneath. Maker, but it didn’t take much from her to get him to rise to the occasion. He had just begun pondering the quickest route back to their chambers when he tilted his chin down to watch her small hands as they pulled at the laces on his trousers. Her lips quickly captured his again, easily redirecting him.

“Right here?” Alistair asked with a heavy breath between kisses. He could have slapped himself right then for questioning Lana when she was having such a rare moment of boldness. She was always so timid when it came to being the one to initiate a moment such as this, and he wanted nothing to do with discouraging her. As if anticipating her hesitation at his words, he grasped her backside with vigor to pull her against his straining erection, satisfied with the whimpered sigh that bounced from her mouth off his lips. He lifted his hips, aiding her to shimmy his trousers just low enough to free his aching cock, and as her hand wrapped around it he whimpered against her lips. Not very kingly, he was sure some would say, but, Maker, if she had wanted to take control of him for every night the rest of his life, he would die a happy man. Alistair eagerly brought his hands to her legs, pulling at the skirt of her dress until he could lift it to her belly, and a delighted laugh left his throat.

“Were you planning this?” He asked, regarding her lack of smalls as his hand dipped down to find her already soaked with anticipation. He watched red spread across her cheeks, and he grinned widely as she dared herself to slide along his outstretched hand. 

“You always said you wanted me to feel at home here,” she teased. Alistair moved his hand as he felt her lift, groaning as she slowly slid onto him. 

“If this is you feeling at home, I should expect my council meetings to be - mmm - very different.” A wide grin had spread on Alistair’s face. He watched Lana with glossed eyes, marveling at her as she rocked her hips against him. Her mouth hung open ever so slightly, her tongue jutting out to sweep along her lower lip for a quick moment. Her eyes shut, whimpers leaving her throat as her hands gripped his shoulders. Alistair slid his hands back down her body, squeezing at her thighs encouragingly as they flexed at his sides. Her hips were rocking sporadically against him, encouraged by his touch and the moans that were collecting deep in his throat. As she lifted her hips and vigorously brought them back down, the two of them moaned loudly in unison. Alistair's head pressed against the back of the throne as she did it again. Maker, but she knew exactly what she was doing to him. She knew exactly how to angle her hips, the right speed at which to sheath him to the hilt to make the groans curdling in his throat bubble over until his voice was echoing throughout the throne room. Her moans melded with his, curling down his spine and making him shiver. He could barely stand to tear his eyes from her face, her brow creased as she rode him like the absolute goddess he knew her to be. Her hair was coming loose from her braid, her skin flushed from the bridge of her nose to the tips of her ears. When he did deviate from her face it was to stare at her breasts, gently bouncing behind their silken cage that he found himself quietly cursing for keeping them from him. For the time being, he satisfied his lust for them with hefty squeezes, enjoying the sighs that fell from her lips with each touch through the smooth fabric. 

“I'm not going to last if you keep that up,” he groaned low in his throat. She was riding him at such a sporadic pace, hips rocking back only to snap forward just as quick as they had come. A wide grin spread across her face, and her eyes opened halfway to look at him under heavy lids.

“That's the point,” she teased through a heavy breath. 

“You don't -” he stopped, a groan interrupting his train of thought momentarily, before continuing. “You don't want me to last longer?”

“You can make up for it later,” said with a breathy laugh. “Do you want me to slow down?” 

“Maker, no.” He grinned. His hands slid to her rear as she sped up. It was maddening how good it felt. It was like something out of a fantasy, his Queen riding him on the throne. The only thing missing was the lack of clothes and a more comfortable chair. Alistair's eyes closed, his brow creasing upwards as his grip tightened on her rear. His arms pulled at her, encouraging her breakneck pace. His mouth hung open, his muscles tightening, and then he simply popped. Alistair's fingers dug into her, holding her flush against him as his groans echoed throughout the throne room. He gasped with every pulse of his cock inside of her, his body slouching further down the throne as his heart raced. His hands slid up her back, arms wrapping around her as he felt her slump against him. 

“I can't move,” she mumbled tiredly against his chest.

“Do you think anyone else has fucked on the throne before?” He asked with a chuckle. 

“I don't know,” Lana laughed, her breath not quite caught just yet. “Maybe if this throne was more comfortable, we would have heard about it.”

“Is it not?”

“My knees are saying no.”

“I hardly noticed. My rear went numb hours ago.” 

Alistair had the largest grin on his face, feeling the happiest he had that entire day. He wasn't sure if he should worry that none of the guards had come running at the amount of noise they had been making, but he couldn't be bothered to think on it more than that.

A problem for another day, he told himself.