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Being granted an audience with the High Queen of Narnia was no small feat, nor was it a small matter. Many diplomatic matters these days were taken care of through the aid of messengers. Relations between the Narnians and the Telmarines were dodgy, as King Edmund put it, thanks to King Peter's innate distrust of Caspian. He was not officially banned from entering Cair Paravel, it was just strongly and non-verbally discouraged. So his arrival, as unannounced as he could manage, caused quite a stir.
Queen Susan the Gentle bustled into the room where he waited, feeling anything but her namesake. "What are you doing here?" she said in a low whisper, aware of the attendants in the room watching them with curiosity. "Peter expressly forbid you--"
"King Peter said he would not deal with me if I came. Which is just as well, as I have no desire to interact with the King at all."
"No?"
"No," Caspian clarified. "I came for you."
It was enough to make her still and color. "We cannot have this conversation here."
Caspian nodded his agreement. She grabbed his arm and stalked her way through the halls, trying to maintain her dignity as best she could. Caspian just favored her with a roguish smirk, and she all but shoved him into her bedchamber. It was the place she thought Peter would be least likely to enter unexpectedly.
"Make it fast," Susan hissed. She could not imagine what would happen if her brother found Caspian, of whom his irrational dislike was well-known, wandering about his castle without proper warning. Especially since Susan had a sneaking suspicion that this was merely a social call.
Unfortunately, Caspian altogether misinterpreted her intentions. Or perhaps read into them a little better than she liked, for either of them. He sat himself on the edge of her bed, grinning widely. "I fully intend to take my time, Majesty."
"Why are you doing this?"
"I could not wait to see you again," he said simply, reclining.
Susan could not wait, either, but she was a little more polite than that. "You should not be here."
"And yet, here I am. You did not call for the guards, you did not draw your bow on me; rather, you took me to your bed. We are wasting time, Susan. The High King could come searching for you at any moment. And how shall you explain my presence then?"
"You came for me," she said slowly. She understood quite well, or thought she did, but she would have liked to hear him say it himself.
"I missed you," he said, rising to his feet, taking her hands in his own. Breathing, in that moment, became more difficult. "I want you," he pronounced, and it ceased altogether.
Susan tried to think of a way to protest, but she couldn't even manage to think of a reason why she might. Instead, she lifted her chin to him, raising her lips to just the right level for him to kiss. He took her invitation gratefully, and greedily, crushing her to him, his tongue invading her mouth in the most delicious way. He tasted like a Telmarine delicacy she had tried once, the last she'd seen him. He smelled almost spicy, and uniquely Caspian. He flooded her senses. She drank him down.
Caspian led her to her bed, and she complied. She had longed for him more than she realized, more than she thought possible, and now here he was, like a dream. He unlaced her and pulled her on top of him. He had to look up to meet her eyes, and he did so with veneration, as though he was her most loyal of subjects. Curse herself if Susan did not desperately need his worship.
"My beautiful Susan," he said, the words dancing across her naked skin. His hot breath branded her, his fingers traced it, and she lost herself to arousal. This was what she had denied herself? She leaned into him with equal parts urgency and desperation. Caspian's hands roamed her flesh, rough with callouses from years of swordplay, yet surprisingly smooth and gentle on her breasts and thighs. He nipped at the delicate neck of her flesh and dipped two fingers into her eager wetness, and Susan found herself releasing an unseemly and quite un-queenly moan. Caspian flashed her a nearly feral grin, and then quick as a flash had her off his lap and on her back, spread wantonly across her covers, stripped of her dignity and not minding a bit as her hips thrust upwards to meet his mouth.
"Caspian," she murmured reverently, without really meaning to, and then his wicked tongue slid into her, to teasingly remind her of what she really wanted. Her voice caressed his name as his lips caressed her more delicate parts, and then it became a chant, a plea, a prayer. Queen Susan the Gentle, a brave, bold warrior who'd fallen not in battle, became a victim now to pure ecstasy. She dug her nails into Caspian's shoulder and attempted to lure him upwards. Caspian teased her relentlessly, though his eyes were dark points betraying how difficult it was for him to do so, as he kissed his way up her body and hovered over her for a hot, agonizing moment.
"My queen," he rasped.
"Your queen commands you..." she said deliriously, "commands you to... to..." She could not quite bring herself to put voice to what she really wanted, was not entirely sure she had words for it, but Caspian knew and deferred to her whims. They shared a groan as his hips met hers, the sound of pure pleasure. Susan gave up ordering and said simply, "Please," and he complied. She wrapped her legs around him. He closed his eyes. It was messy and undignified and Susan loved every single second of it.
When it was over, Caspian remained on top of her, inside her. She clung to him giddily. "I trust I've served the High Queen well?"
"Quite well," was all she managed. Too well. Caspian withdrew from her then, but still clung close, his arm around her as though he couldn't bear her going anywhere else. As for Susan herself, she was so wonderfully sated, and yet, so flustered. It would be a good, long while before she could bring herself to leave. Though she did not think she wanted to anytime soon.