Summary: Kenna and Diavolos just want to spend some time alone, but they keep getting interrupted.
All Diavolos wants is to be alone with his wife. He tells Kenna this, half-joking, a few days after their wedding. They’ve been bombarded with requests and concerns and question after question after question since they’ve been married. It’s to be expected, with ruling two kingdoms, but he hadn’t been expecting the frequent interruptions even when they’re in their private quarters.
Kenna has had an open door policy since she took back Stormholt, and while Diavolos loves and can appreciate how devoted she is to her people, he sometimes wishes she would change it.
The second night after their wedding, they were lying in bed, Diavolos kissing his way down her neck, her breathy moans and wandering hands driving him crazy, when someone had knocked on the door, and they hadn’t gotten back to bed until the middle of the night.
The next morning, Kenna had dragged him into a side room in between meetings, kissing him hungrily and sighing as he lifted her up against the wall. “Finally,” she breathed in his ear, and then Jackson had come looking for her. Diavolos had cursed under his breath as he set her down, giving her one last lingering kiss before she slipped out the door.
They spent the rest of the day in meetings, and when they finally returned to their quarters that night, she nearly tore his clothes off. Her name had been a strangled groan on his lips as she straddled him on the bed, until Raydan had pounded on the door and nearly burst into the room, because rebels who were unhappy with her marriage to Diavolos had snuck their way in through the tunnels that were still being repaired. Diavolos had just managed to get his pants on before Raydan came in, but none of them got back to bed until nearly dawn.
That had been the worst night, between the lack of sleep and concerns about their safety and Diavolos wondering if Kenna had sabotaged her rule by marrying someone with the Nevrakis name. The look she gave him had been enough to make him stop talking about it.
“Kenna, I love you, but I really don’t love your open door policy right now,” Diavolos grumbled as they finally collapsed into bed.
“I really don’t either,” she mumbled, settling over his chest and running one of her hands up into his hair.
When they finally woke up late that morning, she sleepily crawled on top of him, kissing her way up his jawline. “I want you,” she murmured. “Right now.”
He almost ripped her nightgown off in his desperation to feel her against him, confused by the frustrated look on her face as she started pushing against his chest, until she gestured to the door and he realized someone was knocking.
“Hells,” he muttered, dropping back against the pillow. “I should’ve thrown you on my horse and taken off with you when I had the chance.”
He hardly saw her at all that day. When he finally got to bed that night, she was already asleep, and as much as he just wanted to feel her, he couldn’t bring himself to wake her. He woke just before her the next morning, pulling her in to a kiss when she finally opened her eyes.
His hand wandered over her stomach, tracing gentle patterns for a few moments, until she slid her hand on top of his and gently pushed it down. He nearly came undone at the feel of her heat, her quiet gasps as he inched his fingers lower.
When there was a knock at the door, she moaned, “No,” and he almost told her to ignore it. But he knew she wouldn’t, and that they couldn’t. Still, he pressed her into the bed, kissing her desperately, and growled, “I want you to myself later. I will drag everyone out of this castle myself if I have to.”
And so it had gone for a week, with constant interruptions and stolen, all-too-brief moments in hallways and empty rooms, until someone inevitably came looking for them.
He’s actually relieved when they’re summoned to Lykos, because Diavolos does not have an open door policy, and has no problem telling Zenobia and Adder to leave them alone. But Zenobia is in fine form the second they arrive, irritated by something Adder has done, and he doesn’t get to bed until late.
They’re in meetings most of the next day, and he’s so frustrated that as soon as the last one is dismissed, he shoves his chair back, grabs Kenna’s hand, and all but drags her up to the quarters they’ve claimed as theirs.
“I need you,” she sighs, winding her arms around his neck as soon as they’re in the room, the door firmly shut and latched behind them.
“I’ve needed you for a week,” he groans, yanking her clothes off roughly.
She pulls his shirt and pants off, and he grunts and bucks into her when she wraps her hand around him.
“I can tell,” she purrs, pressing up against him, her hand moving over him slowly, teasingly.
“Stop, Kenna,” he groans. “Not tonight.”
He lifts her up before she can say anything else, dropping her on to the edge of the bed.
“Lay back,” he says gruffly.
She leans back on her elbows, looking at him in anticipation, squirming under his intense gaze as he slides his hands over her thighs and kneels before her. He kisses and nips at her inner thighs, lifting his head and raising his eyebrows as she scoots forward impatiently.
“Don’t tease, Diavolos,” she moans.
“Oh, my love,” he says in a low voice. “You know I’ll follow through.”
Before she can get another word in, he plunges his tongue into her, and she gasps and nearly comes off the bed. He’s learned already what she likes, what makes her come undone, his lips and his tongue working her into a near frenzy. Her fingers grip his hair tightly, pulling hard as she gets close. It almost hurts, a low groan escaping his throat as he falters for just a moment before resuming his movements, brushing his fingers over her and making her come undone.
Kenna cries out his name and collapses back on the bed, chest heaving. She’s panting and flushed and beautiful and his, and he feels suddenly possessive after having to share her all week. He pulls her upright, kissing her deeply.
“Say you’re mine, Kenna,” he whispers, gripping her hair and sucking at her neck.
He likes the way she moans and loops her arms around his neck. “You know I’m yours, Diavolos. Always,” she murmurs.
One of her hands trails down his chest, over his stomach, taking him in her hand again.
“Kenna,” he says warningly.
“What?” she asks innocently, staring up into his dark eyes, running her hand up and down over him.
“I said not tonight.”
“Mmm,” she murmurs, tightening her grip slightly and twisting her hand. “I didn’t agree though.”
“Hells, Kenna, you have to stop,” he groans after a minute, gripping her forearm.
“Stand up,” he commands her.
“Make me.”
He grins, lifting her up and setting her on her feet before turning her around, pulling her back against his chest. She shivers as he runs his hands over her breasts and down her stomach, brushing between her legs. He bites her shoulder and then nudges her back towards the bed, her thighs hitting the edge.
“Lean forward,” he says, pressing his hand against her back.
Kenna sucks in a breath before bending over the bed, a quiet groan escaping her mouth as he presses up behind her. His hands rove over her hips and back, tracing over her skin.
“Please,” she pleads, pushing back against him.
“As you wish.”
He grips her hips tightly and slams into her, groaning at the feel of her, finally.
“Gods, Kenna,” he gasps, thrusting into her rapidly, his fingers digging into her skin.
Kenna whimpers, her fingers flexing against the blanket as they move together. He releases one of her hips, running his hand up to cup her breast and pressing into her more deeply.
He feels her muscles start fluttering around him and knows she’s close, letting go of her other hip to run his hand between her legs.
“That’s it, Kenna,” he says in a low voice.
She cries out his name as she clenches around him, her hands tightening on the blanket. Diavolos groans out his release, closing his eyes and dropping his head forward. He rests his hands on her lower back, catching his breath.
Kenna lets out a satisfied sigh, standing and craning her head back, sliding her hand into his hair to pull him down into a kiss. He grins against her, kissing her again slowly. Eventually they part and climb into the bed, Diavolos rolling onto his side and pulling her back against him.
“We should do this more often,” he says, pressing a kiss to her hair and wrapping his arm around her waist.
Kenna laughs. “I agree.”
“I love you,” she murmurs, twining her fingers with his.
“I love you too. Good night, my love.”