Mr. Perfect
King Endymion loved his wife Serenity.
They were adored by all of their people, followed loyally by the planetary guardians and heavenly kings.
Peace and prosperity was enjoyed by those of the blue planet.
The Black Clan family had been defeated - the future of Crystal Tokyo no longer known.
Keeping the secret of the Shitennou’s resurrection had been difficult for Endymion when he was forced to face his past self. Luck was with him that the senshi hadn’t yet regained their memories of the men that they had fallen in love with so long ago. Since then, secrets had been something he had become accustomed to.
Most nights Endymion lay in bed with his silver haired bride, his strong hands holding her with a tenderness that surprised even him. He would rest above her, his hips thrusting at a slow, even pace as she would moan beneath him. Sometimes his fingers would trail through the endless lengths of her hair, and sometimes he would simply whisper words of endearment against her ear while inhaling her sweet scent.
It was because of her that his kingdom was revived.
It was because of her that his Shitennou were brought back from their stone prisons.
It was because of her that his remaining nights were spent tangled in the sheets with another woman.
The senshi of Venus was everything that her queen was not. She was tantalizing, erotic, and without remorse. He did not need to be kind to her. His touches were anything but gentle. When he would go to her, it would be on the nights where the moon was at its fullest because the illumination meant that they stood the most chance of being caught. She liked that.
Their bodies would collide against hard surfaces, his lips descending on her neck, teeth tugging at the skin it encountered. She would push at him, resist his advances, but they both knew that it was part of her game. The more she fought him, the more it excited him until he could no longer control his urges. Had it not been for her ability to make her clothing dissolve with a flick of her thoughts, he would have torn the fine material to shreds. She would have laughed.
When she finally gave in to him, wrapping her legs around his waist, he would thrust into her, the force nearly knocking the wind out of her as she was shoved into the wall. His lips pressed against hers to silence her cries. She loved an audience.
After they were done, she would slip away from him while he breathed in the cool night air, trying to catch his breath from an orgasm more intense than he has ever known. She never bothered to speak a word - it would be days before she would even acknowledge him again. Endymion never knew what she did during those days. He wondered about her relationship with his lead Shitennou. They were lovers once. Did she allow him to her bed? (The thought almost made Endymion’s blood boil in anger and jealousy.) Or did it just give her pleasure to fuck his king?
An hour later he would crawl into bed, laying besides his wife, pulling her into his arms as he nestled in close to her. She would lean back into him, a sigh escaping her lips. He hated himself for returning to her, tainted with another woman’s scent. In the morning he would be greeted with a kiss and smile. Once she was gone he would rush to the bathroom and get sick over the sink. This simple act somehow allowed him to continue with the day - pretending to be the perfect king, the perfect husband, the perfect father.