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rabbit-reveries · 1 year

Text

—𝑺weet Sister

Synopsis: Aemond fears his youngest sister might fall prey to Aegon's infamous appetite. So, as a dutiful brother, he decides to claim her before he can.

Warnings: Smut, canon-typical incest, innocence kink, slight degradation, pet names, praise, way too many "good girl"s, p in v sex, unprotected sex.

Word count: 5124

He watches his sister with one violet eye, trying to hide in his face the anger bubbling deep in his chest at the sound of her girlish laughter. She doesn't even realize, does she? No, of course she doesn't. Aeressa, innocent as spring's first bloom, gazes at Aegon with wonder, unaware of the web of lies he weaves to ensnare her attention. Watching is so hard— No, he can't risk letting his guard down. A second is all his brother needs. To protect her honor, he must continue to keep watch. In amazement, the girl turns to him and takes his hands in hers.

"Isn't it incredible, Aemond?" squeals her. Incredible indeed. The youngest of the five siblings and Daeron's twin, Aeressa has no way of remembering the event Aegon retells, but the second-born prince surely has, and it was nothing like in the words of the heir. Doesn’t his tongue burn from all this nonsense? Ever since the princess’ first signs of coming of age, he’d been pulling all sorts of stunts to try and capture her gaze, no doubt in hopes of deceiving their poor sister into buying his fake affection and giving herself to him. Aemond watched the same happen with Helaena years before. The fact that he still cares for Aeressa soothes his heart, a clear giveaway that his older brother has yet to succeed in his devious plans. Sweet, sweet Aeressa… Too precious for her own good. He holds her hand over his. If he could, he’d keep her locked to himself, safe from the dangers of the world and its men.

She laughs again, the glorious sound filling the dining table. The prince watches Aeressa blush as Aegon leans in to whisper something in her ear, clenched jaw and hand protectively over hers. Her expression is soft and betrays no alarm, but she turns away to rest her head on Aemond’s shoulder. He relaxes the tiniest bit. So she hasn't fallen. There is still time. Aegon seems to notice it as well, all the hidden messages in such a small act, and it is clear on his face. He’s been growing impatient, and Aemond pretends not to notice. Pretends it doesn’t frighten him. He knows his brother’s only been playing nice because the subject of the matter is their sister, but that he has no qualms over taking what he deems his. The servant girls are all so very terrified of him.

In what can only be a desperate measure, Aegon takes the hand that used to sit under Aemond’s and kisses it, leaning once more to whisper in Aeressa’s ear. Aemond turns to Helaena, hoping now would be the time for a jealous fit, but it is only a feeble expectancy knowing her. Characteristically, she picks at her food, seemingly unaware of her brother-husband's antics. It is only by the slight furrow of her brow that he knows the princess isn’t deaf and blind to the scene displayed in front of her. Alicent is sitting at the head of the table and watches her children with a look of worry. If she didn’t have the same look every time she gazed at them, Aemond might have considered it some small victory. Gods, don’t they see this indecency? Is he alone on Earth? Is he the only one who might be able to protect this girl?

When supper is over and all are dismissed, he notices how Aegon corners their younger sister before retiring. Aegon has never been one for subtlety, thank the Seven Heavens. Aemond runs after her, afraid to leave her alone in the empty hallway leading to her chambers.

“Sister!” he calls, glad to see her grin when she turns and notices it is him.

“Brother.” she exhales, one hand over her heart. “You startled me.”

“Why? Did you think it was Aegon?”

She bites her lip, and it’s all the answer he gets.

“Has he been bothering you?”

Aeressa half laughs. “No, not BOTHERING… He’s just… a bit pushy.”

Aemond walks to her, stopping when he stands by her side. She tries to avert his gaze, but he picks her chin between his thumb and index to force the girl to look him in the eye. “Be truthful, Aeressa. What has he been pushing you to?”

“Gods, Aemond…” says her, eyes big as the moon set on his “He’s not a bad person, you know?” She places one of her dainty hands over his arm, perhaps trying to appeal to his emotions, but all Aemond can think is how close she is, how his breathing fans over her delicate face. She is so beautiful he almost forgives her for defending their brother. Such a precious gem.

“You don’t understand, Aeressa. You never do.” he shakes his head. “You only ever see the good in people.”

She frowns. “And you only ever see the bad.”

He wants to say more, scold her for her trustful nature, warn her of Aegon’s malice, but no words leave his mouth when the hand that wasn’t holding his arm reaches to cup his cheek. As if by instinct, he covers her hand with his. She is so close. So close. He can smell the oils she bathes in, and see the world of wonders living in the space between her parted lips. She is so close. He could close the distance, taste her if so he pleased.

Aemond forces himself awake from the fantasies, reminding himself of his place as her older brother.

“He whispered in your ears during supper. What did he say?”

His inquiry breaks the moment and Aeressa pulls away, repelled by the shock of reality. “I don’t know, he said so many things…” she says, almost musing, and begins to walk down the corridor again.

“Aeressa.” Aemond pulls her by the arm. “I’m not playing with you. What did Aegon say?”

She opens a grin, and at that moment he can’t read her in the least. His grip on her arm tightens. “What did Aegon say?” he repeats, more forcefully this time.

“He wants me to come to his chambers at night. He says we’ll play this fun game. Why is it so important?”

It is universally known how taken with his sister Aemond is. She’d been his little pet from a very young age, always following her older brother like a shadow, her twin by her side. When Daeron was sent away to fight, her attention had been solely Aemond’s, and he’d grown to cherish her company. Now, however, hearing those words coming from her mouth with a smile… He’d never been this compelled to hit her. Stupid girl. His grip on her arm tightens again, this time enough to earn a whimper from Aeressa.

“You’re hurting me, Aemond! What is going on?” she squeals, trying to free herself. She is so confused.

Of course, she is. She doesn’t understand the ways of men, she’s just a girl. She has no idea what kind of game Aegon plays - or plans on playing with her. Aemond lets go of her at last.

“You will not visit him tonight, do you hear me?”

“Why not? What if the game is fun?”

He grits his teeth, looking back at his sister’s bewildered expression. How can he explain the world to her? How can he keep her safe? He takes one hand to his hair, mind making work of his questions like a big machine with confusing and missing pieces. Aegon will not stop, even if Aemond himself keeps watch on her door. He’ll find a way, a secret passage, a time of the day when no one will be able to come aid. If there’s one thing he knows about his brother is how stubborn he can get when denied things he wants. And if there is another thing he knows about his brother is how great his appetite is, especially for maidens.

Aemond turns back to his sister, who watches him wearing the same confusion.

“So you want to play a game?”

“Embroidery gets very boring sometimes…” Aeressa tries to explain herself, gazing low on the ground, cradling the arm he squeezed.

Gods, she’s afraid of him… What now?

He sighs.

“Let us go to your chambers, I will play with you.”

She looks back up, childish delight mixed in with a slight distrust. “Will you?”

“Yes.”

She takes his hand and begins leading the way. The girl gets through the door and motions for him to follow, but he tells her to wait for a minute so he can tip the guard with enough gold to buy silence and one night in his sister’s bed.

It is the first time he’s entered Aeressa’s chambers in what seems like forever. It is covered in fresh flowers, the sweet scent filling the space between the four walls. The bed is grand as his own but wrapped in pink quilts and blankets. She sits on the edge of the mattress, swinging her legs a little.

“What game is it, brother?”

Aemond steps closer until he’s standing in front of her, looking down at her smiling face. If there is a time to stop, it is now. But if he stops… He knows Aegon won’t. Taking a deep breath, he cups her cheek much as she did to him in the hallway, face as stone. He loves her, he does, and because he loves her, there is no going back. This is his duty as a devoted brother. She can’t stay this naive forever.

“Have you ever played house?”

“Yes, of course! It was my favorite game with Daeron.” she says, innocent as ever.

“Do you want to play house with me?”

Aeressa laughs, that feminine, childish sound. “I think I’m a bit too old now… I haven’t played in ages.”

“Make an exception for today. I promise it’ll be fun.”

She looks away for a second but soon looks back at him with a smile. “If you promise.”

The prince takes another deep breath, trying to set it straight in his brain how this will go.

“This is the game: I am your husband, you are my wife, and this is our wedding night. Do you know what you are supposed to do?”

She hesitates for an instant. “Serve you…?”

“Yes. And how will you do that?”

“With a kiss?”

He feels himself smile at that, caressing the cheek he cups. “Very well. Have you ever been kissed before, Aeressa?”

“Only by Daeron when we played house last.”

Aemond has to hold back a flush of jealousy. All this time worrying about Aegon, it seems Daeron had gotten a headstart before leaving for the military. His caresses stop and he holds her face with both hands. He thinks of saying something, but now that he has Aeressa looking up at him with big lavender eyes, there are no words left. All he wants is to claim her rosy lips, and that’s what he does.

It is obvious she has little to no idea of what she's doing, which brings satisfaction to him. He tries to start chaste but soon finds himself tugging at her bottom lip, trying to get Aeressa to open her mouth for him to enter. When she finally gets the tip, his tongue slides in, and her hand flies to the arm that cradles her face, alarmed by the new sensation. It only amuses him more.

Startled by the intrusion, she opens her eyes wide and pulls back.

“Your tongue, it’s-”

He can’t help but chuckle. “Yes. That is what a real kiss is like. Do you not like it?"

A slight blood rush colors her cheeks. “It feels odd, but… It isn’t unpleasant.”

His thumb caresses her bottom lip, a starved look on his face. “Good. Try to match my pace, hm?”

Aeressa tries to pull back when he leans in, but she’s no match to the iron grip of the hands on her face. The prince kisses her again, this time stripping away all of the niceties he paid her at first, going straight for what he wants. His tongue laps at the inside of her mouth like fire licking at tapestries, spreading some weird warmth through her body. It might be the lack of oxygen, but she feels lightheaded, suddenly clinging to her brother like he, the arsonist, might save her from being burned alive.

She pulls away, struggling to breathe. The room is full of smoke. With her eyes now open, she can see the way Aemond gazes at her, and a tremble rushes through her body. His one eye is dark, veiled by a haze of something she doesn’t quite get. Desire? His hands pull her back for another kiss, searing, hot, all-consuming, and this time they don’t stay put on her face. Aeressa notices with confusion he is laying her down on the bed. Aemond can hardly hold back now, pulling her skirts up to grab at her legs.

“Aemond!” she yelps, sitting up. “You can’t lift a lady’s skirt!”

Yes, maybe he got a bit carried away… This is his sister, his beautiful, sweet, innocent sister. She must be so shaken by his actions. He stops and looks back at the youngest princess and her red cheeks. “Dear wife, it’s all part of the game.” he says, trying to sound confident and not as eager, his hands running up and down her thighs. “As your husband, I’m allowed to see you bare, understand?”

He descends from the bed to kneel on the ground, takes off her shoes and kisses her feet, then starts a trail of caresses that, when close to her thighs, are open-mouthed and fervent. His fingers grip her skin hard enough to leave marks - she doesn’t know it, but this is Aemond struggling to keep his composure. The room is filled with the smell of flowers and Aeressa’s labored breath. Without realizing it, her hands fly to his hair, and she’s pulling him back up for another kiss.

“Greedy, aren't you?” Aemond chuckles. He can’t help but give her what she wants, though, relishing in her grabby hands trying to pull him closer, impossibly closer. He kisses her ardently, kisses her, and kisses her, his own hands trying to pull her to him. How many nights did he spend awake, fisting his cock, fantasizing about her touch, her heaving breath, her tongue on his, on him… And now she is pulling at his hair, kissing him back as if her very life depends on it.

He pulls back, earning a frustrated sigh from Aeressa as she searches for his mouth again, but he holds her chin and makes her throw back her head. He begins another trail, this time from her lips to her cheek to her ear, where he nibbles at the lobe. “I’m going to make you mine tonight. Mine, no one else’s.” he growls, and, close as they are, he can feel the chill running through her back. “Am I clear?”

“Yes.” she breathes.

“Yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He only wanted to hear her say his name, but the title might be even better. Grinning, he begins following south, down to her neck. “Little princess Aeressa seems to be quite sensitive...”, he thinks, drinking in the heavy breaths she takes when he kisses her neck. Against his better judgment, Aemond sucks in a hickey or two and leaves a bite that makes him want to leave a hundred, hearing the whimper she lets out at the first. He is hypnotized by how her chest rises with each breath, barely contained by the bodice of her dress.

With greedy hands, he tugs at the strings that hold her gown together. Impatient to have his attention solely on her again, Aeressa helps, and soon the fabric is loose around her. “Are you… Are you sure this is right?” asks her, holding the front of her bodice to not let her breasts spill. She wanted him back on her, but now that it is time to be seen naked, she is too timid to let go of the gown.

“Yes, this is right. I have never been so sure.” is what he thinks, wanting nothing more than to free her of this godforsaken dress and feel her skin on his. As to not startle her, though, he forces himself to hide the feverishness and smile calmly. “Do you feel wrong, my sweet?”

“...No.”

“Then how could it be anything but right?”

Hesitantly, she lets go of the bodice, letting it fall on her lap, her round breasts now on display for only him to gaze at. Aemond thinks they’re just the perfect size, custom-made to fit inside the palm of his calloused hands. “Good girl.” he praises and kisses her again. Aeressa arches her back in his embrace, entranced by his words, drinking them in. “Good girl.” he repeats. His hands travel along her torso, feeling her up, squeezing, pinching, and scratching. He lays her down again and tentatively pushes up the fabric of her dress, half expecting his sister to stop him again, but this time all she does is lace her arms through his neck to keep him closer, pressing her chest to his.

With her beneath him, whimpering so softly, Aemond feels like he might be in one of the Seven Heavens, or perhaps all seven at once. His hand snakes down between her thighs, and he can’t stop a groan from escaping feeling how slick she is. He wants nothing but to fuck her hard, have her scream his name so loud Aegon won’t be able to miss it… But she is his sister, not some common whore, and he owes her love and respect. This is all for her, after all. His finger circles the entrance of her cunt, the heel of his palm pressing down on her clit

The feeling bubbling down at the pit of Aeressa’s stomach is so foreign, strong enough to make her tremble inside her prince’s embrace. Her mouth is on his like he is the air she breathes, only pulling away at the feeling of intrusion when he inserts a finger inside her.

“Are you enjoying this?” he asks, hovering above her, his long white hair falling over her face. His finger pumps in and out of her with ease. As if to punctuate his question, he rubs the heel of his hand on her pearl, earning a sharp mewl from the girl.

She grabs at his shoulders, trying to still herself, eyes shut tight as if not being able to see her brother’s expression will somehow stop him from staring this intently at her. At this point, the princess is a blushing mess, her chest and neck covered in hickeys and bites, hair falling disheveled around her like a fallen angel’s halo.

“Well?” he presses on, now making hither motions that squeeze more sounds out of her. “I’ll stop if you can’t answer.”

Aeressa is often told she is too kind for her own good, always ready to see the good over the bad. At this moment, however, she is sure her brother must be some kind of demon, the only possible explanation for how he toys with her body and mind, so obviously enjoying the shame in her features. “...Yes”

He grins, wicked, and leans in to kiss her. Aemond swallows the cry she lets out when he surprises her with a second finger. “Good girl. Thank you for your honesty.” says the man, in a tone that asks “wasn't so hard, was it?”. Her body is on fire and he’s watching like it is something amazing. Because it is; because he’s completely entranced.

Her heavy breathing and moans fill the room, mixed with one or two sloppy sounds coming from her wet cunt. The symphony is shameful and burns in her ears. Aemond wishes he had the kind of self-control to let her come undone on his fingers, maybe on his mouth later on, but, suckling on her right breast as he masturbates her, he fears this might be too much for him to take. He is so hard it hurts, his trousers now the cruelest prison.

His sister whimpers loudly, unsatisfied, and frustrated when he pulls his fingers out of her. In the candlelight, his hand glistens with her wet. “What? Why did you stop?” Aeressa whines, lying under him with uneven breathing. The one-eyed prince licks one long stripe on his hand, too taken with the flavor to dignify her question with an answer. She tastes sinful, devilish, the forbidden fruit untouched.

“Open wide.”

“What?” she asks. He can’t possibly mean…

“Do as I say.”

Obedient as she’d always been, she parts her lips and allows her brother to stuff his fingers on her mouth. She can feel herself on his digits, the humiliation bringing the heat in the pit of her stomach to bubble like a witch’s brew.

“Good girl. Such a good girl…” Aemond smirks and kisses her once more, the taste dancing on both their tongues. Aeressa figures he would go back to his ministrations and spreads her legs just a bit wider, waiting for his hand to dip in between them again, but it never does. He pulls back and leaves the bed, standing in front of her confused form now. Why did he stop? She didn’t want him to stop.

Her eyes follow his every move as he begins undressing, making quick work of his clothes. He has a lean, athletic body with marked V bones on his hips, which lead the girl’s gaze to the cock that is proudly erect in front of her. She hadn’t seen one since she was a kid and the servants bathed her with Daeron. His certainly didn’t look like that.

“You’re staring, wife.” chuckles Aemond, subtly reminding her of the game they played. The hand that played with her moved to stroke his manhood, jerking it a few times if only to put on a good show for her.

“I…” Aeressa starts but is unable to finish.

He is amused by her innocent yet curious demeanor. Flawless… Legs spread for him, dress pooled at her waist, breasts out just for him to ogle at. She half sits up, supported by her elbows on the bed, waiting with the most perfect expression for him to do with her as he pleases.

“Now, this might hurt a bit, but I need you to be brave. I promise it'll feel good once the pain dulls.” says Aemond, climbing on top of her again. She lets him, even if in her face she wears some shade of apprehension at the mention of pain.

Kissing her mouth as a distraction tactic, he begins aligning himself with her center and pushes in slowly. It is too late now. Too late. Tears sting on the corners of Aeressa's eyes, which she closes tightly shut, her face contorts itself into a pained grimace, and he can hear a whimper from her, but it's well past the point of stopping. He is inside her, trying to force himself further, squeezed by her insides. She is tight and hot and it might just be too much. He presses his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses touching, their breaths mixing as the two try to keep their composure.

Beneath him, Aemond can tell his sister is crying. Is he being too rough? He could swear… He is trying so hard to be good for her, to go slow.

“Brother?” she asks, grabbing at his arm like he might keep her afloat.

“What is it, my love?”

“When will it start to feel good?”

The prince can't help but smile at her words. She is trying to be brave for him, just like he's trying to be good for her. So adorable it hurts. With tenderness, he kisses her forehead, then the tip of her nose, then her cheeks, and, finally, her mouth. “Soon, my sweet. Very soon.” She looks up at him through wet eyelashes like she so badly wants to believe his words. “You are doing so well, baby. You're such a good girl for me.”

He moves inside her, slow like he believes that maybe if he goes slow enough, she might not feel the pain of the stretch or the breaking of her hymen. A cry from the girl proves his hopes wrong, and he attempts at remedying it by cooing sweetly at her.

“No, don't cry… You're a big girl, aren't you? You've been doing so good!” says the man, cupping her cheek and caressing her face.

“It hurts, brother!”

“I know, I know…” He kisses her teary eyes, salt on his lips. “But you can take it. I know you can. Look—” he nods towards where they are joined, her pussy having swallowed all of him. “You did it. You're such a good girl, such a sweet baby… Such a perfect cocksleeve.”

She looks up at him with violet orbs big as the moon. She didn't think she could do it, but she did it! Isn't it amazing? “And you're proud of me, sir?”

He smiles. “So proud.”

Aeressa laces one arm through his neck and pulls him in for a kiss. She kisses him, sweetly, so adoringly, and only pulls back to wince when he starts moving again.

He stops immediately and asks, worried as a dutiful brother “Do you need more time to adjust? Is this okay, sister?”

She bites her lower lip so strongly she might draw blood, but nods. “Yes… Yes, it's alright. Please, move.”

So he does. Slow, excruciatingly slow. It takes all of his self-control to keep himself from ramming into her. Everything about how she feels around him is perfect, and he just wants to make the most of the sensation. But he loves her, he has to remember that - that she is to be loved, not fucked. Slowly, very slowly, he goes in and out of her, one eye studying her every squirm, examining the signs her body gives. Slowly, her whimpers give way to soft moans, and, with patience and shows of affection, Aemond is capable of extracting from the young princess encouragement to move faster. So he does.

Aeressa is squirming under him, large breasts bouncing softly with the movement. She pinches her nipples, runs her nails through her white skin, and does as he had done before, chasing after the heat the actions spark in her belly. It feels so different, to be full, but the more the pain subdues, the more she enjoys it, and begins to dread the moment her brother bottoms out of her, leaving her empty. Thankfully, it's only for a short moment before he fills her again. "Faster, please!" asks her, guided by an instinct that says a quicker pace would be more pleasant.

Aemond is enthralled by the vision before him, one he only dared dream of. She is angelical, perfect, pierced by him, belonging only to one man now and forever. He smirks and leans forward to suck in a hickey on the pale pulse point of her neck, hips snapping against hers. Every bruise he leaves on her body is a work of art and a show of passion, a sign of ownership he will not let Aegon question. King-to-be or not, he lost this match, and with this victory under his belt, the younger prince finds that he does not mind losing the war all that much. He kisses his sister’s mouth with a pure mix of love and lust. “It feels so good! I might go insane!” the girl whimpers against his lips, prompting his hips to go harder.

“You’re doing amazing, Aeressa.” he smiles at her, sole eye taking in the beauty of her reactions, the perfect ‘O’ of her lips, the hitch of her breath. Aemond finds that she likes it fast, but it is when he goes hard that she gasps and cries out his name. “Such a perfect little bitch.” He cups her cheek with one hand, the other next to her head, holding his weight on top of her. He keeps praising her, locking onto her amethyst eyes, knowing it to be the way to her heart. “Such a good girl for me. The best hole in the Realm.”

She can feel it, how every word has her clenching around him, how every thrust gets the band in her belly to stretch further, closer to snapping. The princess is completely lost in the feeling, cockdrunk. Her brother searches for her, but there are no thoughts behind her pupils, only a thirst for release. Aeressa is vocal in bed, loud, and forgotten of consequences. She cries multiple “sir!”s and “brother!”s, gripping hard at her partner’s forearms. He can only chuckle at how gone she is, and give her his thumb to suck on.

Without waiting for more encouragement, Aemond sets a pace that is passionate and quick, almost wild, and has his sister screaming to the Seven Winds. He can’t deny he’s getting close. Gods, he’s getting close. Decided to extract one orgasm from the princess before giving in to his own, he retracts the hand that cupped her face to have it play with her clit, the spit-covered thumb slick as it circles her button. It earns a loud moan from the girl under him.

“Good girl, such a good girl!” he groans, hips snapping.

Her walls clench around his cock. He can’t help but imagine her womb thirsty, ready to receive all of him.

“Aemond, I-” the princess gasps.

“It’s alright, let it go. Let it go for me.” His thumb speeds up on her clit. She flutters, legs shaking, chest heaving, and the coil deep in her stomach snaps in fevering euphoria. Aeressa reaches up to press her brother’s lips to hers, the kiss marked by gasps and delirious moaning.

The prince bottoms in and out her with passion, now chasing only his high, which approaches at rapid speed. With a grunt, he cums inside his little sister, whole body clenching. He fucks her shallowly through his orgasm, pushing his seed deeper.

Both out of breath and absolutely spent, the siblings eye each other. Aemond’s senses return, making him wonder “what the actual fuck.” as he pushes out of her and lays down by her side. Before he can linger on the guilt of ruining the princess, she curls up on his chest, sweat sticking their bodies together. He wraps an arm around her and tucks his chin on the top of her head.

“Was that good, husband?”

He can’t lie to her, or to himself. “That was fucking amazing.”

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year

Text

"His plaything"

Pairing: Prince Nuada x Fem. Reader (Human / Third person POV)

Themes: Dark | Smut

Word count: 1.6k words

Summary: Nuada searched for a means to satisfy his physical needs. The opportunity presented itself in one of the mortal servants made to serve at court.

Rating: 🔥🔥🔥| Minors DNI. You are responsible for the media you consume. | 18+

Rules and tag form here.

Nuada was a disciplined elf. He spent hours pouring over books and stone tablets in his lord father's great library. When he was not reading, he was sparring.

The crown prince was a warrior without peer, so the singers said. Even when he was but an elfling, it was said no match could be found for Nuada's gift with spears and swords. His father, the high king of all elves, considered him to be the greatest warrior of their people. And the most accomplished. The prince was not just gifted with the blade and well-read; he was also skilled in craftmanship and music and even dancing. It was a strange thing indeed, to see such a brutal warrior glide across a hall like a feather on the wind.

Handsome and charming and dangerous in equal measure, the prince never wanted for company. Nuada was always surrounded by beautiful maidens, all of them vying for his attention. He was unwed, you see, and was expected to take a wife. That was one of his duties: to marry a maiden of the highest birth and produce an heir. The prince understood this. He was more than willing to pledge himself to marriage, but he just needed time to find a bride worthy of him. Until then, he decided, he would find other means to satisfy his needs, for he was a warrior, and as disciplined as he was, he had a warrior's many appetites.

Of course, it must be said that the prince would never sate his hunger by taking another elf to bed. Oh no. Nuada abhorred the very notion of sullying one of his own people that way, no matter how lowborn the elf in question may be. He turned his eyes to the servants instead. They were all mortal hostages taken by his lord father after a great and terrible war. King Balor tolerated them as well as he could manage, and turned a blind eye to how they were treated, provided certain decencies were observed. Those decencies were simple enough: No torture. No working servants to death. No forced couplings. Alas, these edicts had many and more cracks to find if one knew how to find them.

And Nuada found one precisely to his liking.

"Why are you whimpering, little mortal? He grunted. "I thought a good little whore like you wanted nothing less than being bedded by the crown prince Bethmoora."

Whore. That was the choice word he called her, among other things. And yes, y/n did desire the crown prince ever since the moment she first saw him. Her dreams had been haunted by sweet and tender visions of him wooing her before bedding her. She thought that should her dream ever become reality, he would be as generous and courteous and gentle with her as he was with the ladies of his father's court. Such blissful ignorance only lasted until he caught her looking one night while serving his dinner. The prince only waited till his guests took their leave of him before asking her to sink to her knees. He had caressed her cheek, almost in affection, and insisted she open her mouth for him. Not knowing what was expected of her, y/n obeyed. So much had changed since then.

She jolted when he slapped her thigh. His hand was large and had been roughened by centuries of fighting and wielding weapons. It left a mark all of its own. He slapped her thigh again and dug his nails into her flesh. Y/n licked her lips. The prince was expecting an answer.

"I whimper out of pleasure, your highness," she replied as fast as she could, hoping it would please him. She may have felt some pleasure; it was true, but it was so little. The prince would slake his lust upon her body and chase his release, and show little care for her own. As soon as he was satisfied, Nuada would order her to dress and leave.

"You are not lying to me, yes? You do know what happens when people lie to me, yes?"

"I know, your highness. I am not lying, your highness."

Nuada grunted and grabbed her hips, muttering indencies in her ear the entire time. His hands left bruises wherever they touched. Sometime he held her so hard her body would be sore for several days after. Then there were the things he called her, not caring about how they might make her feel. Y/n would not have minded any of it had he shown any interest in her during the act. Or showed concern for her after it.

"Such a good little whore," he said, picking up his tortuous pace and thrusting even harder, filling her as deeply as he could. His nails dug into delicate skin, leaving bruises in their wake. "But you must be fucking silent. I like you that way. Is that understood?"

"Yes, your highness." Y/n lowered her arms and rested her head against the pillows. That allowed the prince to find another angle. He rammed her and found a new place that made her moan long and deep.

"I said be silent!" He barked at her and soon lost himself in her flesh. Nuada moaned and grew drunk on the sound of his thighs slapping against hers. He chose well, he thought. Y/n was meek and discrete and obedient, a maiden who had not known the touch of men until him. She was so soft, her skin warm, and her cunt plush and sinful whenever it fluttered and tightened around his cock. Then there was that sweet little mouth of hers. Nuada enjoyed seeing it swollen and glistening with the remnants of his spend.

The bed creaked softly. Y/n bit her lip and buried her face in the pillows. A heady mixture of pleasure and pain overwhelmed her even as fresh tears coursed down her cheeks. They had sprung from the knowledge that she was a mere plaything to the prince, someone he could use and throw aside once someone worthy of him was in the offing. And there would be someone worthy. Nuada would take an elf-maid hailing from only the highest of births for a wife. She, on the other hand, was a mere mortal, the only child of a petty king who dared to march against King Balor.

"If only your pathetic father could see you now," Nuada grunts and stops just long enough to reach over to gather her wrists. One hand tightens over them, keeping them behind her back. The other curled around her hair. He tugged hard whenever he sheathed himself in her. "A slut servicing her master."

Her father had been allowed to live on the condition that she be sent to court as a hostage. He had no say in where she was placed or whom she had to serve. He was not allowed to know, either. Perhaps this was a mercy.

The air grew thick and heated. The room felt uncommonly warm. Y/n's neck ached from Nuada tugging her hair. Her entire body trembled with each violent thrust. Tiny beads of sweat formed over her skin. Her breath had reduced to shallow gasps and pants. A sweet tension gathered in her core. She was close. So close. But the question remained: will the prince let her have her pleasure just this once?

That was not to be. Nuada felt the coiling in his belly. He was on the precipice of his release, and he had no intention of spilling his seed in y/n's slick heat. As glorious as that would be, he did not wish to risk planting a halfling bastard in y/n's belly. The elves were the children of the earth. The golden blood of the true ancients and the elder gods flowed strong in their veins, and Nauda would never dream of mingling his blood with that of a lesser creature. He drew back and got out of bed, pulling y/n with him as he did. She knew what was to happen next and did well to hide the sadness welling within her.

"Open," he commanded, after she settled on her knees.

Y/n obeyed, letting her mouth go slack while he sank his length all the way in. She kept still while he set the pace, her breath filled with the clean scent of him. His cock was warm and heavy on her tongue. Y/n tightened her lips just enough, just as he taught her the first night. He moaned. She opened her eyes. His head was thrown back, and his mouth was slightly parted. Nuada moved, fucking her mouth and grunting whenever that sinful tongue of hers glided along his member. He sighed wistfully, grabbed at her hair, and went faster and deeper, delighting in the little gagging sounds she made. All y/n could do was keep her hands on her thighs and let Nuada enjoy himself. She was not allowed to touch him during the act or speak to him unless spoken to. He delighted in that too, for he believed that was where mortals like her belonged. Silent and by the feet of their betters.

A few more moments were all it took. "Fuck," Nuada muttered while his cock throbbed and twitched and a warm torrent of his spend spilled onto y/n's tongue. He pressed himself hard against her lips while still riding the high of his orgasm, groaning one last time before finally pulling his cock out of her mouth. The prince ran a thumb over the servant girl's lips, pleased to find them glistening and swollen as always.

"Swallow," he commanded, and brushed a thumb over her tears. He brought it to his mouth, as if to savor the taste. "Swallow my spend like the good whore that you are."

Y/n obeyed, trying not wrinkle her face when the salty essence of him washed down her throat. She knew Nuada would not let her leave until she had swallowed every last drop. Nuada grunted in approval when she opened her mouth and he found it empty. He lifted y/n to her feet and kissed her hard on the lips, his fingers digging into her skin. When he pulled away his eyes glinted in savage triumph.

"Get dressed, and then get out," he said without even looking at her. "I have had my fill of you this night."

Y/n gathered her clothes. Her fingers trembled, as if they had all turned to thumbs. She fumbled with the lacing on her dress, the ties of her neat little apron. She glanced at him. Many a turn of the moon had come and gone since their first coupling, and the prince could not bring himself to even pretend to show her a shred of kindness and respect. Y/n sniffled and looked away.

Nuada made a sound of disgust. "Spare me the sad little doe eyes. I will not fall for it. Now get out and get one of the others to draw me a bath."

Y/n slipped into her shoes and fled into the cold and empty darkness, finding it a welcome relief to the prince's company.

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