Selfish

The room beyond was furnished as a study and library in solid dark oak. Good enough for royalty, yet not modern and hard-edged like some of those new designs.

“It’s been a while since you barged in,” Lelouch said. He was seated at his desk in his shirtsleeves. Probably brooding over his plans with most of the lights turned down for dramatic effect. A drama queen to the end.

“Your knight said I should come and use my womanly charms on you. It’s like tag-team wrestling, only--”

“He said no such thing.”

“Spoilsport,” C.C. said, flopping down on a comfortable armchair.

“Score one for me then.” Swiveling his chair around to face her fully, the 99th Emperor of Britannia and current conqueror of the known world looked no different from the schoolboy she had saved from almost certain death two years ago. Almost. He had no physical scars, this damaged boy with grand ideas and a demon’s grin.

“Have you finally run out of pizza requests to frustrate the kitchen staff with?” he asked.

“Hardly. I just dropped in to see how a teenager was managing the world.” That came out a bit sharper than she had intended.

He was quiet for a moment before he crossed the floor to where she was seated and dropped to one knee

“C.C., if this is about the contract, then I am sorry. More sorry than you’ll ever know,” he said, taking her hands in his. A schoolboy no longer. Blood did out and the potential she had seen in Marianne had been distilled into something else.

“You’re not the first to be unable to complete the contract,” she said, hating the part of her that protested that this was not so, he had got the wrong idea as usual. Stupid male.

“You hid your Code from my father for the promise I made. You gave up a perfectly good opportunity to be rid of it.”

“Did I?” she asked lightly. “Perhaps it was because I didn’t agree with Charles’ plans.”

“Did you? Did you care about the world so much?” He mirrored her tone, but his eyes were fixed on hers. Not so stupid after all.

She almost laughed, but restrained herself just in time. It would spoil the mood, she thought as she stood up. The night was coming to an end.

“Of course not. I am a selfish woman,” she said, slipping off the suit and allowing it to crumple to the floor.

“Oh? I hardly noticed.” But he was watching her warily as she disrobed.

“I’m a selfish woman and I’ll take what I want,” she said, standing before him in her skin. She had kept her boots on. Extending her hand imperiously, she willed herself to be the witch, seductress and queen--claiming what was hers by right.

There was a moment when uncertainty almost shattered her composure. Then he straightened up and placed his hand in hers.

“I’m in your hands, then.” Oh, the boy was a smooth one . . .

The witch took the prince by the hand. She led him to his bedchamber and took her time undressing him for she had learned once that the art of unveiling the body was an erotic act in itself. This was her present to herself and she would not rush it.

Not even for this prince whom she had known while he had been in his mother’s womb. He was not like Marianne, who had approached everything with boundless energy and a mischievous smile on her face. Even destroying time and negating change.

No, he was not like his mother, she thought as she kissed him. It took a moment before he opened himself to it. So guarded . . . but beyond his walls--beyond them was acceptance.

Flawed as he was, he had it within him--the ability to love and be loved in return. When vengeance was out of reach and futile, others might have fallen or lost their way. Not this one. He had the seeds of greatness in him, like the others she had known.

Had.

She cursed--for the first time in decades--the plans of men and kings. What absurdity. No-one would remember this. This single foolhardy attempt to change the world.

C.C. welcomed his exploratory caresses, the lips at the hollow of her throat as he grew bolder. It was about time he had other things on his mind besides Zero Requiem--

Unsurprisingly, she was less accepting about it than he was. So little time left . . . She ought to bring Suzaku in. Next time. If there was a next time. Such thoughts were not--

And she really did swear then--an old, old obscenity not written down in any book, in a dialect that would not die so long as she lived. At herself for caring. At the inevitable ending to this story--

“What?” Lelouch asked, confused.

“Nothing . . .” She pressed him back and straddled his thighs. “It’s nothing.”

Reaching down between them, she stroked him until he groaned with desire. In this respect, he was a boy still. And she was really much, much older than him. Cradle-robber was not an appealing moniker, but she was past caring as his hands skimmed the tips of her breasts, tracing her skin all the way to the curves of her hips.

She was ready, more than ready, as she eased herself down, the slickness between her legs making it easier for them both. The energy of youth more than made up for inexperience, right here and now. If she wanted a more skillful lover, C.C. had known her fair share--more than her fair share--of them.

He gasped out her name--her real name.

Names still had some power, even now. It cleaved through her, parting through the layers--witch, queen, seductress--layers and layers of selfhood that she had formed over the years.

He summoned her--what she was and had been. He reminded her--that she still was and would always be.

Yes, this was eternity.

The pleasure peaked within her and she instinctively ground down harder, drawing out her own orgasm along with his.

I have seen eternity.

This was only what they called a little death she remembered while floating in the warm mental fog that followed such activities. Her mind did pick the strangest times to wander . . . Those things close to death were often beautiful. And he was so very beautiful in that moment.

“So, is this a point for you?” he asked, too tired to care that his face was inches from her bosom as they lay together under a muddle of coverlets and sheets.

“It’s all right,” C.C. said, idly running her fingers through his hair. “We will have plenty of time to keep score.”

We will have eternity.

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