#she’s served queen even before she was one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

swordgrace · 7 months ago

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𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

༺ aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

synopsis: in aemond targaryen’s eyes, you have far exceeded anything that he could’ve imagined. during a moment of solace, you indulge in the prince’s growing affections.

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༺ FORMAT: one-shot — not requested.

༺ WORD COUNT: 7.1K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v sex (unprotected), multiple positions, biting, scratching, switch!aemond, fingering (f!receiving), groping, lots of kissing, hair pulling, vulnerable aemond, melancholy aftercare, slight power imbalance, possessive aemond, talk of insecurities, begging, etc.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: finally ,,, an aemond fic! I am currently looking for requests for this account, and hopefully this is a good showcase in terms of getting people interested! This was so fun to write and helped me get into the Aemond headspace, I so look forward to sharing more of my work with all of you!

𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 the skies over King’s Landing, bringing with it a sense of wariness and discomfort. Rumors and whispers grew of an approaching war between Rhaenyra Targaryen and King Aegon Targaryen — a war between kin that would surely plunge the realm into a great darkness.

Bloodshed and the mere thought of violence caused you to shiver, goosebumps prickling along the length of your spine. The evening was a touch colder, the air bitter and misty with the first inklings of a nighttime deluge. Raindrops smashed into the courtyard, against the castle walls in a steady sheet.

Sworn to serve Lady Alicent Hightower, the dowager Queen, she had dismissed you quite suddenly, citing that she preferred to be left alone this evening. You found it intriguing that Ser Criston Cole so vigilantly guarded the former Queen’s chambers with wandering eyes, but it was none of your business.

The halls of the Red Keep were warm with the glow of torchlight amongst the illumination of the moon, clouds bringing down rain and the low rumble of thunder. You were prepared to make the venture down to the Servant’s Quarters, until you were stopped by a guard somewhere down the corridor.

“My Lady,” One of the Kingsguard, Ser Cargyll, addressed you nobly, even if you were just a handmaiden. “The Prince Aemond is searching for you. He is requesting your presence.”

Prince Aemond — a name not unfamiliar to you.

You felt the subtle hitch within the depths of your throat at the mention of Aemond Targaryen. The Prince was rather acquainted with you, in ways that many would consider uncouth and sinful, but it was a budding relationship. If anything, you found him to be a being of mystique and repression, in your experience.

Under the guise of mere duty, you nodded, curtsying before Ser Cargyll. “Thank you, Ser. I will make my way to his chambers.” You kept your voice hushed, ensuring an air of respect for those who slumbered within the Keep’s walls.

Carrying bundles of fresh linens within your arms, you made your way to the Prince’s quarters, a path that you were somewhat familiar with. Your encounters with Aemond weren’t often, but whenever they did occur, it filled you with a certain thrill and exhilaration. You never imagined yourself to be desirable, the object of a Prince’s infatuations, yet here you were.

A sharp clap of thunder caused you to gasp, nearly losing your footing as you traversed through the darkened corridors, passing by the occasional fellow servant or patrolling knight. Something about this night felt unusual — as if there was an ominous presence lingering around the corner.

Thunderstorms had a horrible habit of making you incredibly paranoid — tonight was no different, it seemed. With a deliberate pace, you ascended the grand flight of steps toward Aemond’s chambers, noticing the lack of protection outside. The Prince wasn’t fond of being hovered over, a notion that you could understand.

The set of ornate, mahogany doors were equipped with iron knobs fashioned into the heads of dragons — quite fitting, considering his heritage. You knocked thrice, stepping back as you waited for the Prince himself, or his summons.

With bated breath, you wrung your digits into the silk and linens clutched within your arms, awaiting the Prince to allow you inside. The suspense was nearly unbearable — sometimes he called you inside, and other times, he greeted you himself with a sly curl of his mouth and that glittering, violet eye of his.

To your delight, the door creaked open, groaning in protest as Aemond stood within the gap, regal and svelte in his leather tunic and fine regalia. His hand perched along the edge of the door, lips tilting into that familiar countenance of his — cunning yet tinged with faint hints of amusement.

“My Lady,” Aemond’s voice was a lull, like the purr of a great cat as he beckoned you inside. He cared little for prying eyes, allowing you to step into the warmth of his open chambers before he latched the door behind him. “You came rather swiftly.” He stated — a mere observation, but it was most accurate.

“Is this not an urgent matter?” To keep appearances, you sometimes asked redundant questions — but Aemond enjoyed them nonetheless. He let out a brief hum, violet hue raking over you as it had several times before. There was something reverent there, a silent appreciation that happened to scream if someone looked close enough.

With a brief hum of amusement, Aemond ogled you, head canting slightly to one side. Blackfyre sat soundly atop his hip, bound in the finest sheath and belt that hung atop his narrow waist. “I suppose not,” He reached out, gently swiping his fingers across your jaw. “I merely wanted to see you.”

Warmth fluttered within your breast, spreading like ivy across the rest of your body. The bulk of the heat settled within your features as you struggled to maintain your composure. “And I you, my Prince.” It was enough to make Aemond’s stare sparkle. “Any word on what will come of the growing conflict?”

Aemond stepped toward the large table, scattered in maps and scrolls, the largest of it being a cartographic description of Westeros. Coins were scattered atop it, meant to resemble garrisons of their forces. “Not yet.” He replied, circling the table before he looked at you. “It is hard to plan for a war that you’ve no counsel in.”

From what Aemond had told you during previous trysts, he was not on the small council — and his brother, the King, seemed more content on drinking and letting others run his kingdom for him. A piece of Aemond spited Aegon for this, for his lack of propriety and sense of duty.

The Prince’s woes weren’t unfamiliar to you. In fact, he had placed his head within your lap and recounted the multitude of misfortunes that had befallen him on many occasions before he had any desire to touch you. Perhaps it was this gesture that had given your budding relationship such a firm foundation.

War was on the horizon, and Aegon hadn’t the slightest clue of what to do — which left Aemond to stew and plot away, to strategize where there wasn’t any inkling of it. It would always fall upon him, the more responsible sibling.

You trailed after him, curious to see such a large map of the continent. If anything, you were more perplexed by the different kingdoms and sigils on coins than the war. “You mean to strategize without the King?” You inquired, noticing the scoff that emerged from Aemond.

“It is nothing new. I only wish to serve the King and my house.” He replied, expression becoming pensive before he sank down into the cushioned armchair, the one placed before his sea of maps and books. Candles danced atop the table, listless and bright.

Aemond was a learned individual, with a thirst for books and tomes, alongside the blade. You admired his desire for more, his desire for knowledge. There was a stark duality to Aemond that you had caught glimpses of during the course of your endeavors — from sharp and cold, like steel, to a hint of warmth.

The Prince’s chambers were spacious, surrounded by an ocean of quiet, with a high terrace and an open wall. You watched as the rain fell, providing a gentle ambiance to your surroundings. A flash of lightning split the sky, and the thunderous gloom of the night raged on.

With a soft exhale, you approached the terrace, lined in a thick bannister and a row of columns. If you extended your hand out far enough, you could catch the rain, feeling the chill of the droplets glide across your palm. It was soothing, enough to ease the heat that had made permanent residence within your skin.

In silent rapture, Aemond watched you carefully, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The glow of moonlight framed your features in silver, accompanied by the twinge of orange — it made you look like a goddess, a beauty incarnate standing before him. His fingers tensed into the arm of his chair, desire beginning to fester inside of him.

Initially, he thought little of you — the lowborn girl that dutifully served his mother, yet the night you’d found him strewn about in his quarters, wounded and wistful, he’d changed his mind. Aemond fell swiftly, and he fell hard — many nights were spent with you in his bed, his head within your lap. It inevitably transformed into desire and the first blossoming of affection.

“Thunderstorms used to terrify me as a child,” You broke the silence, recoiling until your palm was pressed close to your chest. “Now, they seem to make everything ominous, as if there is a lingering dread.” You let out a chuckle, seemingly embarrassed. “It isn’t much different than being afraid.”

Aemond tucked a hand beneath his chin, leaning some of his weight against it as he listened to you. “What do you fear, my Lady?” He questioned, as if attempting to pick you apart, crawl beneath your flesh. You enticed him, evoked a sense of intrigue that he seldom felt in the presence of noble women.

A rather heavy question, but you decided to answer honestly, depositing the stack of linens onto the lounge in front of you. “Being locked away in a cage, perhaps the darkness.” You trailed off. “War.” You grimaced, gaze flickering toward the map on his table yet again.

You always feared war more than anything — it always brought worse things with it. Bloodshed, famine, death, the feeling of no sanctuary or peace.

With a soft huff, Aemond’s violet eye flickered away from you and to his map, surveying his growing plan for any imperfections. He remained quiet for a moment, and decided that he had little desire to talk to you on the topic of war — not when there were plenty of other things he could do.

“War is inevitable, like so many other things in life,” Aemond’s voice carried an indiscernible edge to it. After a brief pause, he continued. “I would keep you safe.” Sometimes, you had difficulty detecting sincerity with the Prince, but you could see it now, even if it was subtle.

If it was meant to be a flattering or sentimental statement, it happened to work, prompting you to dip your head. Sheepishness settled into your features, causing you to tether your hands together. “You honor me, my Prince. I did not know that the life of a handmaiden meant something to you.”

At last, his head angled toward you, lilac hue dancing with light as he leaned back within his chair, the wood groaning in protest. “Come here.” He waved you forward with a flick of his fingers, desiring to feel your warmth, be close to you. Aemond’s lust for you was subtle, but when it sparked to life, it burned like a dragon’s fire.

Your heartbeat fluttered like the wings of a bird, stirring beneath your breast as you obeyed the Prince’s command. Stepping closer, you felt Aemond’s hand trace the swell of your hip, coaxing you into his lap. Without a word, he rested his cheek against your sternum, feeling your fingers rake through his silken tresses.

“Your life is worth a great deal.” Aemond stated, breath fanning out across your collarbone. The Prince savored the sensation of your soft flesh beneath him, heart loud enough to ring within his ears as he pressed close to your chest. Wordlessly, he planted a kiss against the column of your throat.

A shiver rolled down your spine, a sensation that left you aching for more. You never imagined yourself becoming the object of the Prince’s affections, enough for him to state that your life had meaning beyond the station of a servant. “Then it is a mutual feeling.” You uttered, nails lightly scraping against the nape of his neck.

Aemond had often been deprived of affection — even in his dealings with whores, it was originally Aegon’s design, his will enforced. There was no shared connection with a woman seeking coin and a boy, barely thirteen. He preferred you above all else, warm and tender within his grasp, with no desire to use him to further your station.

He used to believe that the only solace he could find was in himself — until he began seeking you out.

What originally began as an arrangement of convenience, purely lust and instinct, had now spiraled into something more. He shared his past with you, treated you to the inner machinations of his splintered family, and in rare instances, became quite vulnerable. Sentiments be damned, Aemond was beginning to feel affectionate towards you.

The growing connection he shared with you, albeit unorthodox and unexpected, outweighed any previous experience he had. You were his — a precious creature that he intended on savoring forever, if he could. Not many would approve of his hunger for a lowborn girl, but Aemond cared little for it.

Above all, known or unknown, he wanted your love.

Aemond’s lilac eye drifted to your visage, drinking you in as he had many times before. The way you cradled his skull within your hand, your other palm planted firmly against his chest — it was intoxicating. He sank closer, finding comfort in your warmth.

He listened to your heart — the way it excitedly galloped for him, pounded within his ear like the deep lull of a drum. The Prince kissed your collarbone, shifting some of your robes away to reveal the soft expanse of your skin. Perhaps, he hadn’t made it known, but you belonged to him — it would stay that way.

A slight chill caused you to press closer, seeking the warmth of the Dragon Prince. Rain continued to pour outside, with thunder rattling the black, cloudy skies, as powerful as a dragon’s cry. Your hand found his shoulder, digits gently massaging into the broad, sinewy muscle of his clothed shoulder.

The sharp ridge of his nose brushed along your neck, lips following suit as he planted several deliberate kisses against your jugular; underneath your jaw. “Cold?” Aemond inquired, able to feel the icy bite of your flesh as it brushed against his. He felt you shudder — but he wondered if that was from something else.

“Slightly, my Prince.” You confessed, though your body’s physical responses were from his lips, in-tandem with the misty chill from the thunderstorm. The flicker of candlelight danced across his features — narrow and defined, beautiful beyond comparison.

“Hm,” Aemond hummed, dragging his lips around the curve of your jawline, pressing another kiss beneath your ear. His scent filled your nose — spiced herbs, smoke and leather, intermingled with that of a dragon. “Shall I remedy this misfortune?” He uttered, his voice crackling with desire.

He nearly smirked at the sound of your breath hitching within your throat — a delicious response to his shameless flirtation. Aemond’s hand crawled along the length of your leg, grabbing at the end of your robes before slipping underneath. His narrow digits danced along your calf, before finding the pliant meat of your thigh.

“Aemond,” You whispered, shifting within his lap as the Prince continued to kiss your neck. The garment you wore was shoddy and somewhat ill-fitting, and you longed to have it removed. You pressed a kiss against his brow, the one that had the beginnings of a scar. “Please.”

The sensation of your lips against his scar nearly drove him into a frenzy — it did the last time you coupled. Aemond let out a brief huff, detaching his mouth from your throat as he hungrily sought your lips. The kiss was overflowing with desire, his hand slithering against your inner thigh.

His slender digits found the apex between your thighs, swiping over the slick heat of your cunt. It was feather-light and tantalizing, meant to make you squirm, a promise of more to come throughout your night together. You whimpered, feeling his thumb ghost around your clit, splitting past your folds.

You reciprocated the kiss with a flurry of passion, tilting your hips forward toward Aemond’s hand. The playful curve of his mouth was tangible as you kissed him again, reaching to cup his face. The pad of your thumb traced along his cheekbone, feeling his teeth graze along your lower lip.

Aemond shivered beneath your palm, finding the sensation of it to be foreign, yet comforting all the same. He hadn’t removed his eyepatch before, during your previous trysts — the thought of you seeing it somewhat unnerved him. It was often used for intimidation, to terrify others into subservience, but it wasn’t like that with you.

As you pulled your head back just slightly, you pressed a tender kiss against Aemond’s jaw, and then against his cheek — another secured itself atop his eyepatch. You felt the Prince’s breath hitch, a subtle noise that left you wanting more.

His hand stilled between your legs, the other holding just underneath your breast. “It would be unwise to remove it.” Aemond uttered, voice as smooth as silk, and just as tantalizing. There was something forlorn about him, as if he were afraid of you glimpsing upon his face.

“I would never insist upon it, Aemond. Just know that I would never pass judgment,” You replied, tucking several strands of pale, silky hair aside. “You are still just as handsome, just as perfect.” Your soft-spoken reassurance made him flustered, yet he was unwilling to reveal that side of himself.

Admittedly, he considered taking it off then, but he decided against it, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. Your hand drifted to the front of his tunic, lined in an impressive array of metallic buttons, bearing the Targaryen sigil. Aemond found your sentiments to be sweet — just like the rest of you.

Wordlessly, the one-eyed Prince coaxed you to your feet, bringing you toward the roaring hearth, beside the light of a crackling fire. The ground beneath you was covered in the layered pelts of various game, from stags to the thick hide of a bear, cushioned enough to provide a safe landing for the both of you.

Aemond towered over you, svelte and broad-shouldered, hand coming to cup your chin as he kissed you. It was slow and unusually sweet, but much to your disappointment, it was short-lived. His hands moved to the front of your robes, tugging at the rugged laces to loosen the bodice.

He watched you hawkishly, enraptured as the both of you maneuvered the shoddy fabric aside. You pulled it over your head, tossing the garment somewhere behind you. It landed on the stone floor with an unceremonious thud, leaving you bare before the Prince.

It was an exchange, one that Aemond silently complied with as he peeled aside his own tunic, lips twitching into a smirk as you pushed away the leather and fine linen of his undershirt. He was all sinewy muscle and narrow limbs, with a pale musculature that seemed to glow whenever the light touched it.

The both of you gazed at one another, your breathing significantly more labored than his own. Your excitement was palpable, the anticipation stirring within your stomach as arousal pooled between your legs. Aemond hungrily consumed your mouth in a blistering kiss, hands grabbing at your hips and chest.

You reached for his shoulders, arms tossing themselves around the back of his neck, digits raking through his hair. Aemond’s tongue greedily slipped past your parted lips, allowing you to taste him. A low hum of approval rumbled within his throat as you submitted to him, chest blossoming with warmth.

It was all tongue and teeth and want — a dance that finally gave way to carnal desire and primitive instincts. You felt Aemond’s hand grope at your haunch, feeling your pliant flesh as he nipped at your lower lip. The flame of desire glistened within his lilac hue.

“Lie down,” Aemond uttered, his voice becoming a touch gravelly, saturated with lust. He watched as you obeyed, sinking down onto the furs with a flustered expression. He stood over you, reveling in the sight of your body, kissed by fire, legs pulled up at the knee. “You are perfect.”

Perfect — you shuddered, stomach churning with liquid heat as you propped yourself back upon your elbows, palms idly running across the soft furs. Aemond sank down, pressing a hot, needy kiss to your lips before he knelt between your thighs, mouth hungrily returning to your throat.

“Aemond,” You moaned, the noise soft and simpering as he assaulted your neck in passionate kisses. Teeth and tongue worked together, leaving behind a handful of marks, some glaringly obvious. He continued his descent, kissing your collarbone, and then your breast. “Please keep going.” A breathy whine left you, then.

His lips twitched into a smirk as he planted a series of hot kisses around your breast, the other palm preoccupied with groping and kneading into the soft flesh there. Aemond felt your body arch into him, knees squeezing at his narrow hips.

With a stroke of his tongue, the Prince began to suck at the peak of your breast, nose brushing along your sternum. The heat from the flame crawled across your body, leaving you feverishly hot. Aemond’s actions did little to soothe it, igniting the fire within your belly.

Your hands flew toward his crown of pale tresses, digits digging in toward the nape of his neck. The furs brushed against your back as you reclined, stealing glimpses at Aemond, who methodically and reverently worked his way along your body.

“Ao sytilībagon naejot nyke,” Aemond purred, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh below your breast, as if to ensure his point was made. That singular lilac hue caught your heady gaze, prompting him to continue his descent. He abandoned your breast with a lasting kiss, mouth traveling along your stomach and hips. “Ñuhon.”

Listening to Aemond’s enchanting High Valyrian made you shudder, allowing it to encompass you. His voice was nothing more than a lascivious purr, meant to entice and tempt you — you were beyond elated to oblige. You watched with doe-like eyes as Aemond kissed your waist, and then your thighs.

His incendiary stare never faltered, and as he pushed his shoulders between your legs, he held it throughout. Aemond listened to the delicious hitch within your throat, the way you preemptively curled your nails into his shoulders — it was intoxicating.

In an unexpected maneuver, Aemond gingerly abandoned the fine leather of his eyepatch, revealing the glistening, sapphire eye, marred-over with an age-old scar. You were dazzled, perplexed by his beauty and the vibrant gleam of the jewel that was permanently socketed into his eye.

As a display of reassurance, your fingers crept from his shoulder to his face, gingerly tracing around his countenance, from eyebrow to cheekbone. Aemond’s subtle exhale of delight signaled his approval, and without warning, he raked his tongue across your cunt.

Your lips fell apart, unable to smother the pleasured whine that escaped you. His tongue raked hot embers across your aching core, delivering a series of deliberate strokes that were sure to make you squirm. Aemond preferred to savor you, consuming every drop of your nectar as if it were the finest of wines.

Those dextrous, spindly hands of his found the pliant flesh of your thighs, hooking underneath to provide a place of rest for your legs. He squeezed slightly, signaling his presence there as he pressed forward. His mouth greedily lapped at your cunt, gliding from the hood of your clit to your entrance.

“Aemond!” A wanton moan tore past your lips, back beginning to arch into his ministrations. The Prince slowed, sharp nose brushing against your mouth as he dipped forward, tongue briefly pushing inside of you. The subtle sensation made you whine, nails dragging themselves across his shoulder.

You were perfect — flesh velveteen beneath his palms, physique begging for more, your pleasure coming to fruition. You were at his mercy, but fortunately, Aemond was feeling most gracious this evening. The echo of the thunderstorm shook the walls a time or two, but it all became atmospheric, simply background noise.

With one hand fisted within his platinum tresses, the other scratched haplessly at his shoulder, nails leaving behind reddish crescents as he flicked his tongue across your clit. The sensation was fleeting, but he sought to drag it out, lips greedily pursing around the pearl of your cunt.

Another breathy moan left you, stomach pooling with a rush of molten heat. It oozed between your legs as your arousal fell upon the Prince’s tongue, much to his delight. He did not waste a drop, mouth traveling wherever he pleased, lapping at every inch of your cunt.

His throat echoed with a low growl, hands grabbing at your thighs. He traced his tongue around your clit, teasing you with feather-light jolts of bliss. You let out a whine, occasionally writhing atop the furs, head lolled back in a display of pure ecstasy.

Aemond’s subtle groan of delight reverberated throughout him whenever you tugged on his tresses, forcing him further into the warm embrace between your thighs. He pressed a string of kisses along your clit, as if he were worshiping you. He enjoyed your greed — if anything, he wanted to indulge you.

The warm lick of the hearth danced across your flesh, seeping into your very bones. Perspiration dotted your brow, jaw tight as Aemond ogled you from between your legs, like a svelte predator, poised for the kill. “You’re perfect, Aemond.” You exhaled, noticing the subtle twinkle in his lilac eye.

That familiar cheshire smirk of his returned; your sweetly-spoken compliments and shower of praise clearly satiated Aemond. He kissed your thigh, breath hot as it fanned across your aching core. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” His voice was cajoling, playful as he nipped at your hip.

You squirmed, becoming desperate for a release, one that your Prince seemed to dangle before your eyes like a carrot on a stick. “Please,” You moaned, digits tightening within his tresses, a subtle signal to continue. “Please, Aemond!” With such an urgent plea from a sweet mouth, Aemond couldn’t resist you.

It seemed that begging would get you places — Aemond thoroughly savored every second of it. Your lust mirrored his own, perhaps subdued, but it was a raging desire nonetheless. He placed another string of kisses against your inner thighs, gazing at you with an incendiary fondness.

Sluggishly, he descended to your cunt once more, dragging the flat of his tongue along your slit in one broad stroke. With a shiver, your hips rolled forward, eased into submission by Aemond’s hands, which happened to lock you into place as he swarmed forward.

He drank you in, tongue greedily flicking between your weeping core and clit, until he began to apply that same pressure as before. His thin lips pursed around the pearl of your cunt, suckling on the clutch of sensitive nerves until it drove you mad, back arching from the furs.

By the Seven, the things Aemond did to you.

There was a fervor in his ministrations, a ravenous hunger that threatened to tear you asunder. His tongue lapped at your core, interchanging with those brief moments of his lips latched around your clit. You whimpered, thighs pressing on either side of his head.

“Aemond,” You sighed with passion, fisting his silky tresses until you tugged him closer, burying his face within the warmth of your cunt. Aemond didn’t seem to mind, treating you with another barrage of suckling and kisses until you were spent. “Fuck.”

Your unholy mouth made Aemond shudder, groping at your thighs as he brought you to climax. Your release was bittersweet upon his tongue, the most sinful taste imaginable — yet he never claimed to be a pious man. He worked tirelessly to clean you up, cock aching within the confines of his leather trousers.

As you rode the pleasurable high of your release, your body unfurled, the tension within your stomach coming to a halt. A molten bliss wept between your legs, soothed by the cool lick of Aemond’s tongue. Your tryst was far from finished — you had more left to give.

In a coiled, poised fashion, Aemond moved from between your legs, prepared to untie the strings of his trousers and sink himself into you, but you stopped him, placing your palms against the plane of his chest. His musculature was lean and narrow, almost spider-like.

Aemond did not make a sound, watching as you rocked up onto your knees, thighs quivering as you eased him down onto his back — the same position you had been trapped in moments prior. He was enraptured, lilac eye glued to you as if you were heaven sent, a goddess coming to claim him for yourself.

You tossed one leg over him, thighs straddling those spindly hips of his, palms dragging across his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen — wherever you could reach. Aemond shivered beneath the intensity of your embrace, lips quirked into the ghost of a smirk, a look of perplexity to mask his desire to submit to you.

“Tell me you want this,” You whispered, nails lightly raking themselves toward his breeches, not daring to go any further until Aemond offered you his consent on the matter. He was often on top of you, domineering and incredibly energetic, but this was different — for him, and for you. “Say the word and you can have me elsewhere.”

The subtle bob of his throat wasn’t easy to spot, masked by shadow, one half of his countenance basked in the glow of the firelight. His sparkling sapphire gazed at you for an eternity, the other drifting across your supple physique, seated atop him as if you’d mounted a stallion.

His hands came to rest atop your thighs, splayed out, possessively groping your pliant flesh. “I want you,” Aemond uttered, his voice a delicious purr, an octave full of an unrestrained lust. “In whatever way that is.” He quite enjoyed this position — he liked seeing you in all of your beauty, bared before him.

With a gentle smile, your digits began to unravel the ties of his trousers, gracing across his hip bones. It was enough to make him shudder, even if the action was barely noticeable. Together, you and Aemond removed the rest of his clothing — and there he was.

He was a beautiful creature, all lanky musculature and pale flesh, stringy and angular. Everything about him was sharp, like the edge of a blade. Aemond was charming, enchanting to you whether he realized it or not. It was enough to prompt you to lean forward, pressing a string of kisses along his collarbone.

“My Prince,” You murmured into his skin, your nose nuzzling underneath the sharp slope of his jaw. You kissed him there, listening to the hitch in his throat. Aemond hummed, lips curling into something of a perplexed line as his hands wandered about your frame, ensuring to touch and caress every curve, every part of you. “My Prince.”

Aemond turned his head, the movement precise and not at all coincidental. His lips captured yours in a feverish kiss, his cock eagerly pressing against your slick cunt. You gasped, feeling the length of it tempt you as he had several times before, but this time, he grabbed your chin, ogling you with his lilac hue.

He wanted to watch your face as you sank yourself onto him, briefly grabbing his cock in order to guide it to your aching slit. The pleasure that blossomed across your countenance was a sight to behold, and you were met with the familiar tilt of his mouth, a fire smoldering within his gaze as he bucked upwards.

His cock speared you with a suddenness, causing you to moan as you adjusted yourself, rocking up onto your knees. Aemond’s palms held your thighs, and he was more than willing to do some of the work, unwilling to let you tire yourself.

It was mesmerizing to see you on top of him like this, breasts full and lovely, softly jostling with each movement. Your flesh was velveteen, pure perfection cast in the sienna glow of the hearth. The fire was dying, but the lust between you and Aemond was far from extinguished.

Your palms fell flat atop his abdomen, finding your purchase there as you began to ride him. It was sluggish and erratic, at first — you let out a soft moan whenever Aemond moved too, using his strength to meet you halfway. His hips lurched forward, cock thrusting into your cunt several times over.

A string of wanton whines and moans escaped you in droves, feeling his grasp on your thighs tighten. He was quite enamored with you, especially like this — there was no sweeter feeling. He continued to buck up into you whenever he could, sheathing himself inside of you, possessing you from below.

Aemond’s visage contorted into one of shared satisfaction, shifting from indiscernible to pleasurable. He sat up just enough to be within reach of you, hips pushing up to meet the downward fall of your body, his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Aemond,” You exhaled, tossing your arms around his shoulders, feeling one of his hands wander from your thigh to your waist, colliding into you with a passionate fervor. The pace you set was sporadic and needy, wanton with desire as you rode him, your movements attempting to temper themselves. “Kiss me.”

That breathy plea of yours was enough to make Aemond submit, lips claiming yours again in an achingly slow, heated kiss. The feeling of your tight cunt around him, slick and warm, made him groan. He was desperate to keep a rhythmic pace, if that were even possible.

Flesh collided against flesh, and you felt Aemond’s mouth pry itself away from yours, creeping toward the column of your throat. He kissed your jugular, face buried within the hollow between your neck and shoulder. You continued your conquest, rocking up and down along his length, nails digging into his shoulder.

Aemond coaxed you backward, wanting you on your back for the final moments of your coupling. You were swift, slumped back down within the furs as the Prince seized your haunch, spreading your legs by bullying himself between them as he had before.

His thrusts became a touch rougher, chasing after a release as he began to rut into you, cock reaching the threshold as he filled your cunt. Strands of pale hair fell around his face, brow glistening with a thin layer of perspiration.

You gasped, back arching as you hitched one leg around his hips, grabbing at his biceps. Aemond’s pace intensified, turning into something carnal and primal, need outweighing sensibility. Lewd noises filled his chamber — the clash of flesh, the sound of your entangled panting and groans of ecstasy.

Wordlessly, he sought your mouth, kissing you with a blistering force that made your head spin with delirium. You reciprocated with passion, feeling his tongue split past your lips, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. Your teeth snagged across his lower lip, enough to make Aemond’s throat echo with a faint growl.

Between the tangle of teeth and tongue, bodies becoming one, you rolled your hips in-tandem with Aemond’s sharp, brutal thrusts. “Don’t stop.” You whispered, wanting him to chase after his release, feeling the pleasurable pulsations between your thighs.

Aemond let out a soft grunt, cock burying itself within you over and over again, precum slathering your insides. The sensation of your cunt around him was perfection — he wanted more of you, all of you. You felt his hand snake around your throat, cupping beneath your jaw as he squeezed just enough to make you whine.

He was relentless, pounding into you with an obvious desperation that only furthered your desire for him. You gripped his shoulders, bringing yourself as close as you could, any sliver of distance beginning to dissipate, eclipsed by conjoined bodies and shared bliss.

At last, his countenance contorted into one of complete and utter pleasure, pale brows furrowed in concentration, violet-colored eye closing for just a moment. His cock throbbed inside of you, brazenly spilling himself wherever he saw fit. He pulled out halfway through, painting your thighs in a sticky sheen of glistening seed.

With a huff of finality, Aemond kissed your jaw, removing himself from you long enough to retrieve one of the many blankets draped across the foot of his bed. You watched him in rapturous silence, the way his physique moved, sinewy muscle highlighted by the flicker of a fading fire.

You cleaned yourself up, feeling Aemond return as he draped the blanket within your lap. As the hearth began to die, the chill of his chambers became evident, thunder rattling overhead, accompanied by the onslaught of a cold deluge. He rekindled the flame, wordlessly slinking down to curl next to you.

Strewn beside the fire, Aemond’s head came to rest atop your sternum, arm draped across your midsection. You held him, kept him close — it provided a sense of vulnerability that made you truly believe that he was yours. You stroked his hair, surprised that he hadn’t asked for you to leave.

“Whenever you wish for me to depart, say the word, my Prince.” You uttered, feeling him tighten his hold upon you. Aemond gazed listlessly into the flames, lilac hue half-lidded as you continued to caress the crown of his head. He didn’t want to go anywhere.

“No,” Aemond’s command was sharp and punctuated, despite the softness of his tone, something that demanded you yield to him. “I want you here.” He uttered, shivering when your other hand traced along what expanse of his spine you could reach.

Prepared to make your vigil beside Aemond, you settled, leaning into him just as he careened into you. The silence was eerily comforting, lulled by the atmospheric backdrop of the thunderstorm. You always enjoyed the aftermath — you enjoyed holding Aemond, most of all. It made you feel cherished in a different way, one that others might not have understood.

You shifted forward, burying your lips atop the pale crown of Aemond’s skull, letting it linger beyond the boundaries of chastity. He exhaled, body fully curled against yours, half of him reclining against you, the other half left to soak in the crackling warmth of the fire.

As your digits tenderly traced the muscle of his forearm, Aemond finally broke the silence once more, happy to let you stroke his hair. “I have always been different, teased and ridiculed,” He lamented, a twinge of melancholy within his voice. “Underestimated, most of all.”

It was a rare glimpse into the window of Aemond’s being — the man that craved love and affection, longed to be thought of as important. After Storm’s End, his mother had cast her frustrations and scorn down upon him, condescending and detached.

A gentle exhale escaped him as you stroked along the angular slope of his jaw, turning his head away from the fire and toward you. You looked down upon him, this man capable of ruthlessness and cunning, and saw the threads of a shattered youth — of someone who longed to feel a tender touch.

“Those who’ve attempted to slight me have always fallen so short of the mark,” Aemond uttered, a vague reference to the Velaryon boy that he had wrongfully slaughtered. He had some regrets about that one, but he hoped that it would cement his strength — he was the rider of Vhagar, and even then, it never felt like enough. “Hm.”

He seemed incredibly comfortable like this, pressed into your warmth, his cheek nestling against your collarbone. You continued to trace along the smooth plane of his musculature, allowing your digits to finally brush underneath his scarred, sapphire eye.

“You feel cold,” You hummed, noticing the way in which he absentmindedly leaned into your palm, allowing you to fully cup his face. “You are strong, Aemond — resilient and cunning. It is not my place to speak of your family, but I’ve come to know you, and I know that you are stronger than all of them.”

Bristling underneath the sweetly-spoken purr of your praises, Aemond kept his arm draped around you, the other coming to rest underneath your breast. The pad of his thumb graced your silky flesh, and he wanted to stay like this forever, if he could.

Aemond regarded you with a forlorn intensity, one that still danced with a subtle frustration, intermingled with his growing sense of possessiveness towards you. He kissed your palm, and then placed a kiss against your chest, ear pressed to the beating swell of your heart.

“I do not feel different with you,” Aemond uttered, able to listen to the little flutter within your chest, the steady gallop of your heart. “I do not want that to change.” His tone became solemn, and you simply coaxed him closer, allowing him to use the crook of your elbow as a place to rest, fingers raking through his hair.

“It won’t change, my Prince.” Your reassurance was gentle, as saccharine as the finest honey. Aemond’s hum was one of contentment as he crawled forward, head resting against your shoulder instead, allowing him to better hold onto you just as you held him.

Silence passed between you, accompanied by the brief crackle of dried tinder atop the logs, the light of burning embers dancing before you both. He kissed your jaw again, the slope of his nose brushing around your neck as he peered towards the flames.

Again, you felt your breath hitch when Aemond held tightly to you, lifting his head just enough to gaze down upon you. Your countenance was captivating — beautiful beyond compare, awestruck of his appearance. His lilac hue flickered across your face, drinking in the doe-like look you had before he hummed.

The ghost of an indiscernible expression fluttered across his features — incredibly subtle, yet present nonetheless. “I certainly hope not.” He murmured, lips molding themselves to yours, and then to the corner of your mouth before he resumed his former position.

You kissed the top of his head once more, cradling him as you would something fragile. You knew that Aemond’s insecurities resurfaced often, but now, they seemed far more prevalent. Regardless, your affection for him wouldn’t waver — you worried that he wouldn’t feel the same for you, however.

Unbeknownst to you, Aemond already possessed you, body and soul — and that was more dangerous than any blade or any dragon.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd x reader #hotd x you #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader

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faebled-stories · 2 months ago

Text

Rumor Has it

Kinkvember Day 12: Size Queen

ITZY Lee Chaeryeong x Male reader

7k words

“I can’t believe I’m with ITZY’s Chaeryeong,” the man murmured, voice heavy with disbelief as his eyes roamed her flushed face. “You’re just so hot,” he added, the words tumbling out in a way that was meant to be flattering but only served to deepen the emptiness settling in her chest. His awe should have kindled something—pride, excitement, even a fleeting sense of satisfaction—but it barely registered.

Chaeryeong lay on the unfamiliar bed, her body half-sunken into the cushions as he moved rhythmically, each thrust marked by an urgency that lacked any real warmth. His hands skimmed over her skin with a mechanical precision, more rote than passionate, as if he were caught up in the idea of her rather than the moment they shared. His breath came in shallow, heated bursts against her collarbone, but rather than igniting any spark within her, it only deepened the creeping impatience that gnawed at her.

Detachment wrapped around her like a cold wave, numbing her senses until it felt as though she were watching herself from above, disconnected and distant. The cracked, faded ceiling above was far more familiar, more interesting than the man whose movements quickened, already nearing the climax of their encounter.

The scene was painfully predictable, an act she could have performed in her sleep. The pattern was always the same: meet a guy, revel in the spark of attraction, then watch that spark die the moment intimacy began. It wasn’t their lack of effort; many were charming, practiced, saying and doing all the right things. But beneath the flattery, the skilled movements, and the whispered praises, there was only the same worn-out script she had seen unfold too many times to count.

He caught her gaze, a confident smirk tugging at his lips. “I knew you’d be this wild,” he said, tracing a line down her side as if her silence was proof of his prowess. Chaeryeong’s lips curved into a slight, practiced smile—just enough to maintain the illusion. She knew what he was looking for: affirmation, a performance. It was easier to provide it than let him glimpse the blankness she felt inside.

“Tell me how good this feels," he whispered, voice thick with self-assured pride as he pushed forward. The words fell over her, hollow and ineffective, their intended power dissolving before it could ignite even a flicker of genuine response. She knew men like him all too well—the ones who craved validation, whose confidence was built on a steady diet of praise. They lived for these moments, hungry for reassurances that fed their ego as much as any touch or fleeting glance.

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, carefully calibrating her voice to mimic desire. Inside, the chasm of disinterest yawned wider, swallowing any pretense of excitement. His movements grew more erratic and rushed, signaling the approach of the end. Each gasp, each strained promise of how he would make her feel, only deepened her impatience. Her eyes wandered to the wall, where the paint peeled in thin, curling strips.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” he gasped, voice ragged as he tensed, releasing with a final, shuddering exhalation. The warmth splattered across her stomach, sudden and uncomfortable against her skin. He collapsed beside her, chest heaving, eyes closed with a self-satisfied smile curving his lips. The silence that followed pressed down on her, suffocating and familiar.

Chaeryeong stared at the ceiling, her expression unchanged, irritation simmering beneath her blank exterior. The mess was just another inconvenience, another reminder of how detached she felt from the entire experience. She sat up, reaching for the box of tissues on the bedside table, each swipe across her skin sharp with annoyance. The sticky remnants clung stubbornly, and she fought the urge to let out a sigh as she wiped it clean.

“That was amazing, you loved it, didn’t you?” he said, the lazy grin on his face matched only by the certainty in his voice. He looked up at her, eyes glinting with a kind of self-congratulation that made her jaw tighten.

“Yeah,” she said absently, the word slipping out devoid of meaning. She crumpled the tissue and tossed it into the trash with more force than necessary, already turning her attention to putting her clothes back on. The quicker she dressed, the sooner she could escape the weight of his gaze and the aftermath of a night that felt like just another checkbox ticked.

“You’re leaving?” His tone shifted, a hint of surprise breaking through his post-coital haze.

“Yeah, something came up,” she said, already buttoning her jeans and reaching for her jacket. She didn’t spare him a glance, the cool air from the hallway whispering in as she opened the door.

“Oh, well… okay. I guess I’ll see you around?” The words trailed after her, carrying the echo of confusion and a touch of disappointment.

“Maybe,” she muttered, stepping into the hallway. The door closed behind her, muffling his presence, and she let out a silent breath. The street outside stretched dark and quiet, the distant hum of traffic soothing in its consistency. With each step away, the encounter faded into the background, another scene in a cycle she was desperate to break.

-----

The next day, Chaeryeong walked into the studio, the weight of last night’s disconnection lingering around her like an unwelcome shadow. The steady thump of music in the background was a familiar comfort, its rhythmic beat grounding her as she stepped into the safe haven of dance practice. Here, she could shed the emptiness, rediscovering herself in the movements and the sweat.

As she moved down the hallway, she nearly bumped into you—a newer dancer known for your laid-back, shy demeanor that had a certain charm. The unexpected encounter made her pause, and she blinked up at you, adjusting the strap of her bag with an almost self-conscious touch.

“Oh, hey,” you said, eyes widening with surprise before a soft, genuine smile spread across your face. Your voice carried a hint of nervousness, but it was endearing, a reflection of your gentle nature.

“Hey,” she replied, her tone casual but warm. Chaeryeong had seen you before, exchanged a few words here and there, but your interactions were always routine—comfortable, familiar, but devoid of any real thrill or spark. Still, there was something grounding about your presence, an easy reliability in an industry full of fleeting faces and shallow exchanges.

“How’s it going?” you asked, shifting the strap of your own bag and glancing at her with a mix of shyness and openness.

“Good,” Chaeryeong answered with a brief look toward her makeup room. “Just getting ready for practice.”

“Same here,” you said with a small, awkward chuckle, nodding toward the practice room behind you. “Well, I’ll catch you later.”

“Yeah, see you,” she echoed, stepping past you as the moment seamlessly blended into the rest of her day.

Settling into her makeup chair, Chaeryeong projected an air of calm as the room buzzed around her with practiced chaos. Stylists moved efficiently, tugging at her hair and trimming stray ends while she scrolled through her phone, barely registering the cascade of notifications on the screen. Despite the morning’s encounter, her mind drifted back to the comforting rhythm of dance, where she could momentarily leave everything else behind.

A sudden murmur of gossip cut through the ambient chatter, the tone sharp enough to catch her attention.

“Did you hear about the new dancer?” one stylist whispered, drawing out her words as if relishing their weight.

Chaeryeong’s pulse quickened, but she kept her expression neutral, eyes glued to her phone as though she hadn’t heard.

“Oh yeah,” another stylist chimed in, her red lipstick as bold as the knowing smile she wore. “They say he’s... well, really well-endowed.” She stretched out the last words, savoring the ripple of reactions they prompted and darting her eyes around for signs of who was listening.

Heat crept up Chaeryeong’s neck, her cheeks warming despite her best attempt at indifference. In the mirror, she caught a glimpse of the stylists exchanging conspiratorial looks, their excitement palpable. She focused back on her phone, but the whispered words replayed in her mind, stubbornly refusing to fade.

“Where did you hear that?” a third stylist asked, her eyes wide as if this were the juiciest piece of news in weeks.

“Someone in the wardrobe department,” the second stylist replied, leaning in conspiratorially. “They saw him changing during a show. It was... unmistakable.”

Unmistakable. The word lodged itself in Chaeryeong’s mind. She scolded herself for the flicker of interest that sparked within her. It’s just gossip, she reminded herself. But the allure of whispered secrets had a way of sticking, no matter how much she tried to brush them off.

Chaeryeong attempted to shake off the chatter, but it clung to her thoughts, feeding her curiosity. She opened a recent group photo on her phone from a past shoot, eyes scanning your face, searching for... what, exactly? She didn’t know. The absurdity of it made her bite back a sigh.

She locked her screen and set her phone down, chastising herself. This is ridiculous, she thought, trying to push the rumor out of her mind. But it lingered at the edges, a persistent tickle she couldn’t quite dismiss.

A few days later, Chaeryeong found herself tucked into a quiet corner of a café, a rare escape from the whirlwind of studio life. The hum of coffee machines and the clinking of cups provided a soothing backdrop, calming her frayed nerves. She took a slow sip of her latte, savoring the warmth that radiated through her.

Her peace was short-lived. From a nearby table, lively voices cut through the mellow atmosphere. Natty and Julie, two bright junior members of Kiss of Life, were leaning into each other, their laughter infectiously carefree. Their energy filled the small café, vibrant and uncontainable.

Chaeryeong wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but their excitement was impossible to ignore.

“So... have you heard about the hot topic recently?” Natty’s eyes were wide, her voice tinged with thrill.

Julie’s grin widened as she lowered her voice. “Oh my God, yes! Everyone’s talking about it. You mean... the rumor?”

Chaeryeong’s fingers drummed lightly against her mug. She’d heard variations of this story a hundred times before—momentary bursts of intrigue that swirled through the industry, more smoke than fire. Yet, there was something magnetic about the way these whispers spread. No matter how hard she tried to tune out, the animated tones and shared glances drew her in.

“Yeah, you know... the rumor,” Natty said, barely suppressing her giggles.

Julie leaned back, crossing her arms with a playful smirk. “Honestly, I kind of want to see if it’s true.”

Natty’s eyes widened, shock mixed with amusement. “Wait, what? You’re actually thinking of... finding out?”

A daring glint crossed Julie’s face. “Why not? Everyone’s acting like he’s some kind of god. He’s always so nice and friendly. It wouldn’t be that hard to get close.”

Natty shook her head, half-amused, half-incredulous. “You’re wild! What if it’s not true? Or worse, what if it is?”

Julie’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “That’s what makes it fun! I’m not just going to ask him, obviously. But if the opportunity comes up... why not?”

Chaeryeong took another sip of her coffee, pretending to focus on the view outside. The boldness of youth was something she recognized from her own early days. They were fearless, driven by curiosity and the thrill of what-ifs. But she knew better now. Rumors had a way of spiraling, turning curiosity into consequences.

Yet, their conversation lingered in her thoughts, winding its way into the quiet spaces of her mind. Could there be any truth to it? It was absurd, but the question gnawed at her. She tried to brush it off as idle curiosity, but the story held on like a stubborn melody.

With a sigh, Chaeryeong set down her mug and stood, casting a glance back at Natty and Julie. They were still deep in conversation, laughter bubbling over as they reveled in their world of daring and speculation. Their faces were bright, full of life untouched by the cynicism that came with years in the industry.

As Chaeryeong stepped into the crisp autumn air, a bemused smile tugged at her lips. Maybe, in their own ways, everyone was searching for a little excitement, a hint of truth buried in the glitz and chaos. In the unpredictable realm of K-pop, who wouldn’t want to peek behind the curtain to find out what was real?

-----

On a quiet afternoon, Chaeryeong sprawled across the cool floor of the practice room, her body still humming from hours of intense rehearsal. The mingling scents of sweat and faint traces of perfume filled the air, and the ache in her muscles was a satisfying reminder of her hard work. For a brief moment, silence settled over the room, seeping into her exhaustion and offering a rare sense of peace.

The stillness was broken by the soft, deliberate clicks of Ryujin’s phone. Every few moments, Ryujin’s lips would curl into a smirk, her eyes flickering with amusement as she scrolled through whatever had caught her attention. Chaeryeong, trying to focus on stretching out her legs, found herself drawn to the subtle shifts in Ryujin’s expression.

“What’s got you giggling?” Chaeryeong asked, her tone casual but laced with curiosity. She lifted an arm over her head, feeling the pull in her shoulder, though the stretch couldn’t quite outmatch the intrigue sparked by Ryujin’s grin.

“Oh, just some juicy gossip,” Ryujin replied, snapping her phone shut and looking up with a mischievous glint. “You’ve heard the latest about him, haven’t you?”

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, her heart giving a small, involuntary skip. “I’ve heard bits and pieces. What’s new?”

Ryujin leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, rumor has it things have taken an… interesting turn.”

Chaeryeong found herself inching closer, her interest piqued. “Interesting how?”

“Remember that new staff member from production? Long hair, brunette, always with the clipboard?” Ryujin’s voice dropped even further as Chaeryeong nodded, recalling the confident, polished woman who’d been around the studio lately. “Apparently, she tried to hook up with him, but it didn’t go as planned.”

Chaeryeong’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Ryujin savored the suspense, a smile playing on her lips. “She called it off halfway through. Said it was ‘too much’ for her.”

Chaeryeong’s mouth fell open in disbelief, a small laugh escaping before she could stop it. “You’re serious?”

Ryujin’s nod was triumphant. “Completely. She’s been avoiding him ever since.” The way Ryujin spoke made it clear she found the entire thing endlessly entertaining. “Can you imagine? She didn’t even finish!”

Chaeryeong leaned back, trying to process the bizarre twist. Until now, the rumors had been little more than idle chatter, a way to pass the time between rehearsals. But this? This felt different—specific, almost too wild to be entirely made up.

“That’s beyond crazy,” she muttered, shaking her head. “So she really just… walked away?”

Ryujin’s smile widened. “Too intense for her, apparently. Makes the rumor even juicier, right?”

Chaeryeong chuckled, fingers brushing her forehead as if to clear the strangeness from her thoughts. She’d always seen you as quiet and reserved, an enigma wrapped in an unassuming presence. You’d danced beside her, shared jokes and casual conversations, but now it felt like a veil of mystery had fallen over you, changing how she saw you.

Ryujin noticed the flicker of interest in Chaeryeong’s eyes and pounced on it. “Not curious at all?”

Chaeryeong scoffed, though a faint warmth crept up her neck. “It’s just gossip. Things like this always get exaggerated.”

Ryujin laughed knowingly. “Maybe. But admit it, there’s a part of you that wants to know. And who’s to say there isn’t some truth hidden in there?”

Chaeryeong rolled her eyes, trying to brush off Ryujin’s teasing, but a reluctant smile played on her lips. “Okay, maybe I’m a little curious,” she conceded.

“Exactly,” Ryujin said, leaning back with a victorious nod. “And who knows? You’ve worked with him more than anyone. If anyone can figure out what’s real, it’s you.”

Chaeryeong’s expression turned wary. “Are you suggesting I go looking for answers?”

“Not exactly,” Ryujin replied with a wink. “But it wouldn’t hurt to keep your eyes open. You never know what you might find.”

As Chaeryeong stood up, stretching her arms high above her head, the tension in her muscles eased, but a new kind of tension lingered in her mind. “I’m not getting caught up in this,” she said, trying to sound resolute.

Ryujin’s smirk deepened. “Sure. Just don’t blame me when you can’t stop wondering.”

Chaeryeong’s gaze drifted across the empty room. Though she said nothing, her thoughts inevitably circled back to you—the unexpected center of a rumor that refused to fade. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to you than she had realized.

-----

In the days that followed, her resolve to ignore the gossip unraveled bit by bit. Every break in rehearsal, she’d catch snippets of whispered conversations, soft voices punctuated by the thrill of the latest gossip. The room seemed charged, the air thick with secrets woven together in webs of speculation, and the more she tried to tune it out, the more the curiosity gnawed at her.

It was a curious thing, the way her perception of you began to shift. In her mind, the once-awkward grin and boyish shyness you’d worn so easily took on a new, shadowed dimension. She’d always seen you as the soft-spoken one, the one who was quietly supportive, almost unassuming. But now, even a passing glance was tinged with the echo of those whispered stories, and each encounter left her feeling as if she’d glimpsed only a fraction of who you really were.

The questions pulsed in her thoughts, gaining a stubborn grip, no matter how often she told herself it was only idle gossip. What if the quiet you she’d known was only part of the story? What if there was a depth, a mystery lurking beneath the surface, a piece of you yet to be uncovered?

With every passing day, her curiosity transformed from a soft, passing thought into an itch that lingered, whispering at the back of her mind. And though she told herself to brush it aside, Chaeryeong couldn’t help but wonder. In a world built on appearances and carefully constructed images, maybe there was something real beneath all the stories. And maybe—just maybe—she’d find herself wanting to know who you truly were.

Then, one afternoon, it seemed as though fortune had finally aligned in her favor. Practice had stretched longer than usual, the group winding down and slowly dispersing in pairs or small clusters, chatter buzzing through the air. Chaeryeong, catching her breath near the edge of the practice room, happened to look up just as you turned the corner into the hallway, your figure briefly silhouetted against the light streaming in from the corridor.

Your gaze found hers, and in that brief, quiet exchange, you offered a shy, slightly lopsided smile—a familiar look that made her pulse skip, the awkward charm in it disarming and strangely magnetic. In that moment, something sparked in Chaeryeong’s chest, a flicker of boldness mixed with curiosity. Today, she insisted, I’ll find out more.

Whether it was the way you moved, calm and at ease despite the group’s lively presence, or the weight of the unanswered questions lingering in her mind, she couldn’t ignore the pull anymore. The hallway felt smaller, the walls pressing closer as she crossed the distance between you, her footsteps light but deliberate.

“Hey!” she called out, her tone casual but carrying a note of unmistakable purpose. You paused, a slight furrow of confusion forming on your brow as you turned. “Can you help me with something?” she asked, her smile warm but with a hint of mischief that made your eyes narrow in curiosity.

“Oh, uh… sure. What do you need?” you replied, polite and almost cautious, your tone laced with that familiar modesty she had come to expect from you.

“There’s something broken in my dressing room,” she replied, her tone smooth and casual as she gestured down the hallway. Ignoring the flicker of uncertainty that crossed your face, she took a step forward, inviting you to follow her. You hesitated, but soon enough, you fell into step beside her, the two of you making your way through the quiet corridor toward her dressing room.

Her heart pounded as you neared the door, the quiet intensity of her decision hitting her as she led you inside, closing the door behind. For a moment, you looked around, a faint confusion in your expression as you glanced around the small space.

“So… what exactly is broken?” you asked, your brow lifting as you scanned the room, clearly searching for any sign of damage.

A smile crept onto her face, playful and assured. “There’s nothing broken,” she said softly, watching as the realization dawned in your expression. “I just wanted to get you alone.”

Your eyes widened, surprise and hesitation crossing your face as you struggled to find a response. “Alone? I… I don’t really…”

She reached out, placing a hand on your arm in a gentle but firm gesture, her gaze steady. “You’ve probably heard the rumors about you,” she said, her voice quiet, laced with both curiosity and determination.

Your face flushed, a deep crimson that betrayed your nervousness, and you quickly averted your gaze. “I-I don’t really pay attention to that stuff,” you stammered, shifting uncomfortably.

“Well, I do,” she replied, her voice lowering to a near-whisper, her breath warm and close. “And I’m curious.”

You blinked, taken aback, struggling to process her words. “Curious? About… about what?” Your voice was barely a murmur, your gaze flicking nervously between her face and the door.

“About whether the rumors are true,” she continued, taking a step closer, her eyes searching yours with an intensity that made the air between you both feel electric. She could feel your hesitation, but she wasn’t about to back down—not now.

Your breath hitched, and you took a small step back, the uncertainty clear in your expression. “I… I don’t think this is a good idea, Chaeryeong.”

But she only smiled, undeterred by the protest, taking the soft reluctance as a sign that she was closer to the truth than she’d expected. “I think it’s a great idea,” she said softly, her gaze steady as she leaned in, her hand tracing a slow line down your arm.

Before you could voice another word of protest, she closed the space between you, capturing your lips with her own in a kiss that was unhurried but unmistakably confident. You froze, the surprise evident as her warmth pressed against you, but after a moment, your hands found her waist, responding with an uncertainty that melted into something softer, bolder.

When she pulled back, your breath was shallow, confusion and conflict swirling in your gaze as you looked at her, trying to find the words. “Chaeryeong, I… I don’t want you to think—”

She lifted a finger to your lips, silencing you with a soft shush. “You don’t have to explain anything. I want this.”

Your expression betrayed your uncertainty, but beneath it, there was a flicker of something else—a tension, an attraction you seemed to be struggling to contain. “But… what if this isn’t—”

“Don’t overthink it,” she murmured, her voice soft as her hand found yours, guiding it gently. Her fingers brushed against your skin, warm and light, and you felt the world around you blur, the small room shrinking to just the two of you. “Just show me.”

“Show you?” you repeated, the words barely escaping your lips as you tried to steady yourself, her gaze holding yours with a quiet intensity that felt almost like a challenge.

Her smirk widened, her hand trailing downward, brushing against you with a deliberate slowness that sent a surge of heat through the quiet room. “Show me what I’ve been hearing about.”

A heavy silence fell between you, your gaze flicking toward the door, conflicted but drawn in by the certainty in her eyes. Something shifted in you then—whether it was the thrill of the moment, the pull of her confidence, or the simple desire to finally let go of your restraint, you couldn’t tell. You nodded slowly, your hands moving to the buttons of your shirt, your breath shallow as her eyes followed every motion.

As the last button fell open, Chaeryeong’s gaze grew intense, her breath catching as she took you in. For a moment, the noise and tension of the studio outside felt like a distant memory, her curiosity and excitement heightening with each second. It’s real, she thought, the truth of all the whispers and gossip settling into place, striking her with a thrill she hadn’t fully expected.

"Wow the rumors are true," she whispered, stepping closer. Her hands gently guided you to sit on the plush couch. "I've been looking for someone to be able to fulfill my needs and you are formidable" she admitted, her voice lowering to a sultry whisper.

Sitting down, your heart pounded as Chaeryeong knelt before you. There was a moment of stillness, her eyes locked with yours, before she leaned in. Her breath was warm against your member as she began, her touch sending waves of electricity through your body.

She started slowly, her lips parting to take you in, her movements deliberate and gentle. You could feel her tongue, soft and exploratory, circling the tip before she took more of you into her mouth. The warmth, the wetness, it was overwhelming.

As Chaeryeong continued, she seemed to grow more empowered with each inch she took. Her eyes, when they met yours, were filled with a proud determination. She was proving something to herself as much as she was pleasuring you.

The air was thick with anticipation and the subtle scent of her exertion. She was focused, each movement more deliberate and bold than the last. Her determination was palpable, and you could see it in the way she bit her bottom lip as she concentrated.

Her hands gripped your thighs tightly, using your body for support as she pushed herself to take more of you. With each movement, she adjusted her technique, learning as she went, adapting to the situation with a skill that only came from experience and a deep understanding of her craft.

You could feel the tension building in the room as she took more of you, sinking deeper with each thrust. Her breathing became heavier, and you could hear the soft sounds of her exertion, mingling with the sound of her lips against your skin. Her hair brushed against your thighs as she moved, a soft and sensual contrast to the firmness of her grip.

Finally, she reached the base, her lips pressed against you as she took all of you in. It was a moment of pure intimacy and connection, a testament to her skill and dedication. And as she held you there, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of admiration and respect for the woman before you.

The feeling of your entire body being enveloped by warmth and tightness was overwhelming. You could feel the muscles of their throat contracting and relaxing around you, creating an indescribable level of pleasure that left you trembling. The sensation of being so completely encased was both thrilling and intimidating, and you couldn't help but let out a gasp of disbelief.

"No one has ever taken me so well before," you managed to say, your voice thick with emotion and desire. Your words were muffled, but still understandable, as you were still buried deep within them. You could hear the surprise and satisfaction in your own voice, and it only served to heighten your arousal.

The experience was so intense and all-consuming that you found it hard to think or speak clearly. You were lost in a sea of pleasure, your mind and body fully focused on the sensations coursing through you. You couldn't believe the level of arousal from being completely inside Chaeryeong's throat.

She paused for a brief moment, pulling back slowly with a satisfied, almost victorious smile gracing her lips. Her eyes slightly teary but gleamed with a sense of pride and accomplishment, as if she had just uncovered a hidden treasure. In a way, she had discovered exactly how to please you in a manner that was unique to her.

She plunged back down, enveloping your shaft once again with her warm, wet mouth. Her tongue danced and swirled around your member, exploring every inch with a curiosity that was both exhilarating and arousing. The rhythm she employed was methodical and precise, building up a steady momentum that left you breathless and wanting more.

Chaeryeong's technique was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. She moved with a confidence and fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly, as if she had been practicing this art for centuries. Every movement was deliberate and calculated, designed to elicit the maximum amount of pleasure from your body.

As she continued to work her magic, you could feel the tension building way too quick, like a coiled spring ready to burst. your muscles tensed and released, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to maintain control. But it was no use she had you under her spell, and there was nothing you could do but surrender to the inevitable.

Without warning, the peak arrived embarrassingly quickly, your body tensed up as you surrendered to the intense climax. A wave of pleasure washed over you from head to toe. Crying out her name, your fingers tangled in her hair, pushing her deeper as you rode out the high. Chaeryeong, who was completely dedicated to the moment, took you in as deeply as she could, her jaw stretched wide open to its maximum capacity. However, even with her best efforts, some of your release managed to escape past her lips, leaving a glistening trail that made its way down her chin. The sight of it was incredibly arousing, and it was clear that Chaeryeong had given her all to the moment, creating an unforgettable experience that would be etched in your memory for a long time.

She sat back on her heels, a look of satisfaction and slight surprise on her face as swallowed as much of your release as possible, savoring the taste as she wiped the corner of her mouth. Her chest heaved, not just from the physical exertion, but from the thrill of her achievement.

"Fuck, I cant wait to have you in my guts," she said, her voice a mix of pride and a playful challenge.

You could only nod, still reeling from the intensity, your mind buzzing with the intimacy of the moment.

As she straddled you with a grace that belied her iron will, the air around you thickened with anticipation. "I told you, I'm not like the others," she murmured, her voice a sultry blend of promise and challenge that seemed to resonate with the very walls of the room. "I'm going to take it all, every inch of you."

Chaeryeong reached down and positioned you member along her toned tummy. the outline of your shaft reaching past her belly button and the sight only seemed to heighten her arousal. She lifted herself up and placed your tip right at her entrance. As the first surge of her entry made contact, a sharp and searing connection coursed through both of you, a potent mixture of challenge and exhilaration. Ugh, finally the words echoed in her mind, a silent testament to the culmination of her relentless pursuit.

Her body's response to your formidable presence was visceral, yielding and stretching in a way that was almost overwhelming. It was a threshold moment, where the line between pleasure and pain blurred into a singular, exquisite sensation. The initial sting of the stretch was rapidly eclipsed by a rush of empowerment, a triumphant defiance that scoffed at any hint of intimidation.

As each second ticked by, she experienced a growing sense of command and authority over the situation. She welcomed the intensity, the complexity, and the overwhelming power of the experience, using it to bolster her confidence and firm her resolve.

The moment was profound for both of you, a shared experience of vulnerability and intimacy that neither had encountered before. As you moved together in a rhythm as old as time, there was a sense of exploration, a journey into the uncharted territories of each other's bodies and souls.

For you, the sensation was overwhelmingly new. The initial penetration was a revelation, the heat of her inner walls enveloped you, the tightness and the pulsating warmth bonded you to her in a way words could scarcely capture. Every inch was cradled by her as you became one. It was as if the very essence of your being was being drawn out, channeled through the physical connection that tethered you to her.

While for Chaeryeong, the experience was equally transformative. She felt a stretching, a yielding of her deepest self to accommodate your presence. The depths of her womb were stirred as if from a long slumber. It was as though ancient, primal instincts were roused, acknowledging the potential of creation that lay within the act.

Her body responded with a knowing of its own, a subtle undulation that seemed to draw you in further, inviting you to explore the innermost sanctum of her being. With each movement, she felt more alive, more in tune with the ebbs and flows of her own desire, mirroring the dance of life itself.

Her breaths grew deeper, her grasp tightened, and her spirit soared. She reveled in the realization that she was not merely a passive participant in this dance of passion—she was the masterful conductor, leading them both in this symphony of sensation and connection.

With every sinuous sway of her hips, Chaeryeong's dominance unfurled like a nocturnal bloom, each movement a testament to her unyielding control. She danced a dance of power that commanded the space around her, her body moving with a precision and intent that was nothing short of mesmerizing. Her voice, rich and velvety, wove a sultry symphony that resonated with the raw essence of confidence and command, her words hanging in the air like a seductive incantation.

"Ugh, fuck you're huge," she murmured, her breaths short and quick from the exertion of her rhythmic movements. "You'll never feel this good with anyone else." Her words, laced with a potent blend of pleasure and cunning seduction, curled into the air like tendrils of smoke, captivating the senses and ensnaring the mind. In that moment, Chaeryeong was the embodiment of dominance, her presence an indomitable force that rewrote the rules of engagement, leaving an indelible mark on the soul.

Your gaze was locked onto the vision before you—Chaeryeong's face, a canvas of pure pleasure, her body undulating with a rhythm that resonated deep within your being. A moan escaped your lips, a testament to the desire that was building like a crescendo within you.

She sensed your struggle, the battle to maintain control as you teetered on the brink of something monumental. "Look at you," she breathed, her voice a sultry whisper that seemed to caress your soul. Her fingers traced a delicate path along your jawline, a touch that was both tender and tantalizing. "I'm making you feel so good, aren't I?"

Her words were a silken web, ensnaring you in a trap of yearning from which there was no escape. "You're going to lose yourself in me, aren't you?" she continued, a hint of satisfaction threading through her tone. "After this, you won't want anyone else. You’ll be mine."

Your grip tightened around her waist, a futile attempt to anchor yourself amidst the tumultuous sea of sensations. "I... I can't hold back much longer, Chaeryeong," you confessed, the urgency in your voice betraying your helplessness.

Her smirk was a promise of the inevitable, her movements an expertly choreographed invitation to let go. "Oh, why would you hold back? I want to feel every last bit of you inside me," she teased, her own excitement evident in the catch of her breath.

The air between you crackled with electricity, each touch, each movement fueling the fire that raged within. The rhythm of your union grew ever more insistent, a siren's call to the depths of abandon. "I won’t be able to stop," you managed to utter, a final warning as your eyes locked with hers, the last vestiges of your resolve dissolving under the weight of your need for her.

Chaeryeong's response was a whisper that scorched your ear and sent a fresh cascade of desire down your spine. "That’s exactly what I want. Show me how much you need me," she commanded, her voice a low thrum that resonated with the primal beat of your hearts.

With a renewed fervor, she moved against you, her hips a maelstrom of motion that drove you both inexorably toward the precipice. The world outside this room ceased to exist; only the two of you remained, entwined and moving as one. The couch beneath you protested faintly, its legs scraping against the floor—a mere whisper compared to the symphony of your mingled breaths and the roar of passion that enveloped you.

"Cum for me," she urged, her voice a blend of triumph and anticipation. "Show me you’re mine."

With a final, surrendering thrust, you reached the zenith of pleasure, your voice breaking in a raw, primal cry as ecstasy consumed you. "I'm cumming," you declared, your body a conduit for the overwhelming surge of release that coursed through every nerve.

The room was thick with the scent of passion, a musky perfume that clung to the air and enveloped the two entwined figures. Chaeryeong's breaths came in short, sharp gasps. Her body, slick with the exertion of their shared dance, moved with an urgency that matched the pounding of her heart, a drumbeat that seemed to echo the rhythm of their lovemaking.

As she surrendered to the waves of her climax, she found herself immersed in an ocean of bliss, her body quivering beneath the relentless surge of rapture. "Yes! I'm cumming! Fill me up" she screamed, her cries a declaration of victory.

Each pump of your seed overflowing within her propelled her to new heights, a sensation that had once been merely a fantastical dream, now vividly experienced. Her body convulsed and succumbed to the intensity, her cries intermingling with the potent atmosphere of the room, culminating in an intoxicating sensory symphony. At long last, she had discovered the pinnacle of her sexual quest, the ultimate fulfillment that had eluded her until this moment of unbridled surrender.

Her fingers, like talons, clawed at your chest, not out of aggression but from a primal need to mark you as hers. She sought to erase the boundaries between you, to blur the lines until there was no her, no you, but a singular entity caught in the throes of passion. It was as if she believed that with enough force, enough desire, she could fuse your very essences together, creating a bond that transcended the physical realm.

As the warmth of the moment settled around you both, Chaeryeong’s fingers moved with slow, intentional strokes along your collarbone, lingering as if marking her place. She traced small circles over your skin, her touch both gentle and claiming, a wordless reminder that she held a special kind of control here. Her gaze lingered on you, unwavering and filled with a spark of something deeper, a hint of possessive pride in the effect she had on you.

She leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear, her voice low and deliberate. “You know,” she murmured, each word sinking in with quiet intensity, “no one else could ever take you like I do.” Her fingers drifted to your jawline, holding you there as she spoke, her eyes narrowing slightly, studying you in a way that felt intimate, almost territorial. “You’re mine now,” she added softly, her voice laced with a blend of warmth and certainty, as if she had no doubt of the truth in her words.

There was a satisfaction in her expression, a quiet, possessive pride that seemed to fill the space between you. Her hand found yours, and her grip tightened, an unspoken promise in the way her fingers intertwined with yours. “When you want this again”—she gave your hand a gentle squeeze—“you’ll know exactly where to find me.”

Her eyes never left yours, her gaze intense and steady as if binding you to her in an unbreakable vow. She leaned forward, her lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was slow and lingering, a deliberate, possessive mark she left there like a signature, something to remember her by.

When she finally pulled away, the warmth of her core around your shaft vanished, replaced by the cold, empty air that only made you crave her all the more. As she rose, a trace of your seed slipped down from her glistening folds. The sight stirred something primal within you—a longing that went beyond desire, a need to be inside her again, to feel that consuming warmth at all times.

Her hand lingered on your chest as she looked down at you, her gaze satisfied yet somehow gentle, as if savoring the effect she’d left on you. Her fingers traced along your jaw, her touch warm and lingering, as if marking you with the memory of her presence.

With an effortless grace, she rose to her feet and cast one last, lingering look back at you. Her gaze held a quiet dominance, an unspoken assurance that the spark between you was entirely hers to command. She dressed herself swiftly, leaving the lingering trace of your essence inside her, a mark of the connection you’d just shared. And as she slipped away, her touch, her warmth, and the faint, visceral reminder of your bond wrapped around you like an invisible tether—one you knew you’d carry long after she was gone.

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acciotaitlynn · 3 days ago

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⋆˙⟡ As a humble lady's maid to the princess of Philos, you often find yourself crossing paths with her charming brother, Prince Xavier. His piercing blue eyes and mischievous smile never fail to catch your attention, and soon, he begins to pursue you relentlessly. His courtship is overwhelming and exciting, but as you grow closer, you realize his intentions may not align with your own desires. You can't bear the thought of living a life where your love must be kept hidden, so you make the difficult decision to end things with him, breaking his heart in the process. As Xavier stands at a crossroads between his love for you and his duty as future king, he wrestles with the weight of choosing between tradition and true love, unsure if he can bear to live without you or if he will risk everything to have you by his side as queen.

“This flower, much like the one who now holds it, is unique and precious beyond measure," he continues, ignoring the curious stares and whispers of those around you. Stepping closer, his next words are meant only for your ears, a secret shared under the watchful eyes of the court. "And just like this flower, you were meant to be mine."

── .✦ prince xavier & fem!reader

── .✦ sexual content, 18+, porn w plot, forbidden love, Angst, there's a wedding! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ i gave xav a sis & parents, really possessive/dom xavier + sub fem!reader, sweet & spicy, dancing, masturbation, oral;꒰f&m receiving꒱ fingering, public sex/consummation ceremony, exhibitionism, slight breeding kink/mentions of pregnancy, xav is... experienced ¬‿¬ teasing, edging, a little marking/claiming, kitty play, bondage/sight deprivation, sensory play, sadomasochism, light paddling, face-fucking, angel/my love/good girl/princess & my prince/your highness used, pls let me know if I missed anything importantㅤ♡

⊹ 22k wc; i even cut some ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ i really hope you like it <3

You thought you had known true beauty—the kind that steals your breath and makes you question all you hold true. You were certain you had seen it in the wild, untamed waves of a stormy sea or in the soft glow of a fire as you warmed your damp body later that night. But now, perfection stands before you with pale silver hair that glimmers in the sunlight and delicate features that seem almost ethereal. He's like a sculpture come to life, every contour and curve crafted with impeccable precision. As he bends over a budding bloom in the palace gardens, his graceful movements seem to match the gentle swaying of the nearby trees. The contrast between his pale skin and the vibrant blue forget-me-nots he holds is striking, highlighting his flawless complexion.

His long, slender fingers—every bit as achingly beautiful as the rest of him—reach out to gently caress the petals of the flower, almost as if it were a precious jewel. The intense urge to move closer to him nearly overwhelms you, but a sliver of reason remains, reminding you to maintain your composure. So instead, you retreat silently, seeking cover behind a nearby tree to watch from a distance. Though you’ve only served as the crown princess’s lady’s maid for a week and haven’t yet met everyone in her circle, there is no mistaking this man's identity—he’s her older brother, Xavier. And in this moment, surrounded by nature's splendor and with such a breathtaking sight before you, you understand why she always speaks so highly of him. He truly is a vision of beauty and gentleness beyond compare.

A voice inside you screams in warning to stay hidden, predicting that any interaction with the prince before you will result in a catastrophic change to your existence. Your heart races as the fear takes hold, containing the unknown terror that grips your mind and soul. A powerful magnetic force seems to pull at every fiber of your being, connecting you to the prince standing before you through an invisible thread. Overwhelming panic consumes you, pushing you back towards the safety of the palace at lightning speed. With each step away from Xavier, you pray for the unexplainable connection to break, desperate for it to end before it destroys you completely.

A sudden, honeyed warmth washes over Xavier, penetrating deep into his bones and drawing his attention towards your retreating figure. With each step you take towards the grand castle looming in the distance, he feels a thrilling rush of energy coursing through him. His fingers tingle with anticipation as they release the delicate flower they were holding, almost reaching out towards you unconsciously as the heavy doors close behind you with a resounding thud.

Xavier is struck by the sheer beauty of your presence. Akin to the way you felt upon seeing him, it’s as though he's witnessing something truly perfect for the first time. The way the sunlight caresses your silky hair and smooth skin sends shivers down his spine. But it's not just your physical appearance that captivates him - it's your radiant aura that draws him in, beckoning him to pluck a delicate pale pink flower from its resting place before darting towards you with a renewed sense of urgency. His feet carry him faster than ever before, driven by an overwhelming desire to be near you.

As he strides confidently through the grand hall, every eye is drawn to him like moths to a flame. Some curious, some envious, and others full of surprise and confusion at his sudden halt before you. It’s rare to see their prince show any interest in a woman past those he seeks out for carnal pleasures, and even then, he lacks emotion in the encounters that are merely a means to an end.

As you stand there in your humble working-class uniform, you can't help but feel self-conscious under the jealous stares and deprecating glares from those around you. This was exactly why you had tried so desperately to avoid this encounter. The grand hall's luxurious air only emphasizes the stark contrast between your simple attire and the opulence surrounding you. The chandeliers above cast a warm glow on everyone in attendance, highlighting their extravagant clothing and elaborate jewelry. You feel like a small pebble in a sea of diamonds and silk, but despite it all, you hold your head high and meet the prince's piercing gaze with determination.

Xavier's heart races and his mind goes blank as he stands before you. He can barely remember how to think or breathe, completely consumed by your presence. His piercing azure eyes scan every detail of your face, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he basks in the warmth radiating from you. Despite his usual guarded demeanor, he feels himself melting under your gaze, giving in to a vulnerability he never knew he had.

As soon as your eyes meet, his grin widens into the most charming, heart-stopping expression of joy you've ever seen. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as his gaze lingers on you, admiring every inch of your being. Your eyes pass over the critical faces around you before settling back on him. It's then that you blurt out, "my prince..."

It's a vulnerable moment, one that lays bare your feelings for him. And as if reading your mind, he can see the shame and sadness in your voice as you question whether he needs help with something. His heart clenches at the thought of causing you pain, and he realizes that perhaps this introduction should have been saved for a more private moment.

But it's too late now. The curious gazes of those around make it clear that no one will forget what they've witnessed here today. And news of Xavier's newfound interest in you will likely spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom before the sun sets. Despite all of this, he can’t resist the urge to get closer to you. He shakes his head softly, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red. "I saw you, and I just..." He trails off, struggling to find the right words before finally admitting, "The thought of you getting away from me was unbearable."

As he reaches out to tuck the delicate pink flower behind your ear, his fingers brush against your skin with a feather-light touch. You feel a sudden warmth spread through your body at his gentle gesture, and you can't help but be drawn in by the intensity of his gaze. "For you," he murmurs, his voice soft but firm, leaving no room for refusal.

A small smile graces your lips in response, and he feels a surge of satisfaction at having brought even the slightest joy to your face. His fingers linger against your cheek as he pulls away, unable to resist the urge to touch you just a little longer. "This flower, much like the one who now holds it, is unique and precious beyond measure," he continues, ignoring the curious stares and whispers of those around you. Stepping closer, his next words are meant only for your ears, a secret shared under the watchful eyes of the court. "And just like this flower, you are meant to be mine."

The possessiveness and determination in his declaration send a shiver down your spine, the weight of his words and their significance settling deep within your core. Your heart races as you struggle to find the right words in response. "Your Highness..." you begin, your voice barely above a whisper as you try to compose yourself. "I'm honored by your words and this beautiful gift," you finally manage to stammer out, your gaze dropping to the floor before lifting to meet his steady stare. In this moment, all that matters is him and the invisible thread that seems to pull you together. The intensity in his expression ignites a fire within you, a yearning for something that seems unattainable yet irresistible. But as much as you crave him and this forbidden connection between you two, the judgmental glares and expectations of the court weigh heavily on your mind. "We both know that's not possible," you murmur, attempting to make your way past him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, your sister is expecting me..." His grip on your wrist tightens ever so slightly, stopping you in your tracks.

The heat of his touch sends a surge of electricity through your body, paralyzing you despite the warning bells ringing in your mind. "Wait," he whispers desperately, his ocean blue eyes searching yours with pleading intensity. His thumb traces circles on the soft underside of your wrist, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all reason and logic.

"Don't deny what's between us. It's as real as the ground we stand on and as tangible as the air we breathe. I know you can feel it too," he asserts, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in closer to you.

Every fiber of your being is drawn towards him, yearning for his touch and his words to be true. But a part of you still knows better, knows the danger and consequences that come with giving into this forbidden connection. With trembling breaths, you meet his gaze once more, your resolve weakening under the weight of his unwavering passion. Fighting against the surge of emotions within you, you force out a lie through gritted teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about, Your Highness… Please..."

Your denial hangs heavily in the charged air between you, but your rapid pulse beneath Xavier's fingers betrays your true desires. A knowing smirk plays on his lips as he releases your wrist, though not completely letting go. "Very well," he concedes with a hint of amusement lacing his velvety voice. Stepping back, he gives you the space you claim to need, but his piercing gaze never leaves yours. "If that's what you choose to believe, then I'll respect it... for now."

His words send a shiver down your spine and leave an ache in your chest as he loosens his hold on you. With a graceful bow that leaves you breathless, he steps aside to let you pass. "But this isn't goodbye," he adds with a sly smile, his voice carrying a taunting promise that stirs something deep within you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your back as you walk away, a physical presence that consumes your thoughts and sets your heart racing. Clutching the delicate pink flower he gave you, you hold it close to your chest as you navigate through the crowded room. Despite trying to push Xavier and his words out of your mind, they continue to haunt you relentlessly like a seductive spell. You tuck the flower into your pocket, a secret treasure hidden away from curious eyes as you continue with your tasks.

As the weeks pass, Xavier finds himself irresistibly drawn to the quiet corners of the palace, where the echoes of laughter and whispered secrets fade into a hushed stillness. In these moments of solitude, he allows himself to indulge in thoughts of you, his imagination flourishing with possibilities. He envisions your arms wrapped around him, your lips pressed tenderly against his as you sway beneath the stars in a dance meant only for the two of you. He dreams of intimate conversations shared beneath the soft glow of moonlight and stolen kisses exchanged in the shadowy embrace of dawn. Each day brings new challenges and duties that demand his attention, but also new opportunities to catch glimpses of you, to exchange guarded smiles that set his heart ablaze. As he navigates through the labyrinth of politics and intrigue, his mind constantly wanders to you, your face etched upon the canvas of his thoughts.

And while you go about your own tasks and duties, your mind often drifts to fantasies of you and Xavier lost in passionate embraces, your hearts beating as one. These forbidden desires both tantalize and terrify you. You try to focus on your responsibilities, immersing yourself in mundane tasks that occupy your days. Yet every corner of the palace seems to hold memories of your brief encounter with Xavier, each whisper of wind carrying an echo of his voice. During quiet moments alone, you often take out the flower he gave you – its delicate petals now slightly wilted – as a constant reminder of your connection.

The halls buzz with whispers and speculation, their echoes reaching even Xavier's ears. Your name, once just a faint murmur on the wind, now seems to reverberate through every corridor and chamber, igniting curiosity among the court at your sudden rise to his affections. Before long, Xavier finds himself seeking out those same quiet corners where he knows he will find you. When your encounters do occur, though brief, they are filled with a charged energy that crackles in the air like lightning before a storm.

As your shift comes to an end, you take a leisurely stroll through the garden under the shimmering light of the full moon. The silver glow casts a mystical aura over the delicate blooms surrounding you, their petals swaying gently in the cool night breeze. You feel Xavier's presence before you see him, a tingling sensation at the base of your neck that sends shivers down your spine. His movements are fluid and graceful, emerging from the shadows like a ghost gliding through the moonlit foliage. His voice, barely audible above the rustling leaves, whispers your name. Every step he takes towards you is slow and cautious, as if he were a predator stalking its prey in the forest of desire. His intense gaze locks onto yours, mirroring the storm raging within him. As his hand reaches out to caress your cheek, his touch is tender yet possessive, revealing the hunger that consumes him. "I can't stay away from you," he confesses in a low, raw tone, "Nor do I want to. Every moment apart feels like an eternity, a cruel punishment inflicted upon my restless soul."

Your heart races at his words, your body responding to him like a finely tuned instrument played by a master musician. With each gentle stroke of his fingers, he ignites a fire within you that threatens to consume you completely. Overcome with happiness, you utter his title like a sweet melody on your lips: "My prince." Your fingers twitch with an uncontrollable urge to reach out and touch him, to ease this growing need within you. But even as you speak softly and timidly, asking why he is doing this, your response is like music to Xavier's ears, filling him with warmth and joy that radiates through his entire being.

His long, slender fingers trace the delicate curve of your jawline, igniting a burning trail of desire in their wake. His intense gaze holds yours captive as he speaks, his voice unwavering and filled with devotion. "From the very first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were destined to be mine," he declares, his words laced with a conviction that sends shivers down your spine. "You have become my everything - my sun, my moon, my stars - the very air I breathe."

His other hand cups your face with gentle tenderness as he speaks, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in a soothing caress. He leans in closer until his lips are just inches from yours, teasing you with the promise of passion that lingers between you. "I want to spend every moment with you, bringing life to your dreams and creating new ones together. To hold you close through the darkness and when the weight of the world becomes too heavy to bear."

His confession of love and longing strikes deep within your soul, like a familiar melody whispered on the wind and written in the stars. With each gentle touch, warmth spreads throughout your body, igniting a fierce flame that burns with an intensity you've never felt before. As Xavier's hands cup your face, you lean into his touch and close your eyes, savoring the comforting sensation. Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest as his lips draw even closer to yours, the anticipation almost unbearable. You don't push away or pull him closer; instead, your hands rest lightly on his chest as if trying to resist him. But as your gaze slowly rises to meet his, he can sense your surrender. As he lowers his mouth to yours in a tender kiss, the outside world fades away, and it's just the two of you lost in a sea of desire.

The kiss is a slow burn, filled with longing that matches the depth of your feelings. His tongue teases gently at the seam of your lips before seeking entrance, his hand cradling the back of your head to draw you impossibly closer. He pours every ounce of love, desire, and devotion into the kiss, hoping to convey the depth of his feelings and erase any doubts that may linger in your mind. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer as the kiss grows more passionate with each passing moment. Eventually, you both break away, breathless and trembling. Foreheads still pressed together, hearts beating in sync, your eyes meet and see the same love and longing reflected in each other's gaze. For a brief moment, nothing else exists except for the two of you caught up in a whirlwind of emotions. But reality intrudes upon this stolen moment, reminding you of the relentless march of duty and responsibility. Reluctantly, your arms release Xavier from their hold as you murmur softly, "I should go."

Xavier's heart plummets like a boulder as he feels the weight of your rejection. It hits him with such force, stealing his breath and leaving him speechless. His eyes widen in shock and disbelief, but he understands your hesitation and the gravity of the situation. Still, a wave of deep sadness and frustration washes over him, threatening to drown him in despair. He nods slowly, unable to find words as his throat tightens with emotion. Gently, he removes his trembling hands from your neck and steps back, putting distance between you. His mind is swirling with thoughts and emotions that he dares not speak out loud, fearing that they may lead to regret or expose the depths of his heartache.

You turn away without a word, heading back towards the sprawling castle that has been your home for so long. Each step takes you further from the love that has consumed your thoughts and left a void in your heart.

As you disappear through the grand palace doors, a sharp pang of loneliness pierces Xavier's chest. Suddenly, his extravagant surroundings feel hollow and meaningless compared to the ache in his heart. He retreats to his private chambers, feeling utterly alone despite being surrounded by lavish furnishings. As he paces restlessly across the marble floor, he wrestles with the harsh reality of your situation - duty, family, crown - all weighing heavily on his shoulders and making it difficult for him to justify pursuing a relationship with someone of a lower status.

But even as logic tries to dictate his actions, his heart rebels and refuses to accept a future without you in it. Taking a sip of rich burgundy wine, Xavier tries to drown out the bleakness that clouds his mood before setting aside the goblet and collapsing onto his bed with a frustrated sigh. Memories of your laughter fill his mind as he yearns for you with an intensity bordering on madness. His imagination ignites the flames of desire between you as he seeks solace in one of the most private acts imaginable. Guilt lingers at the edge of his conscience, but he pushes it away and allows himself to succumb to waves of pleasure that crash over him. He whispers your name with longing as he reaches climax, feeling his heart race in time with the pumping of his wrist. Exhausted and emotionally drained, he falls into a restless sleep, haunted by memories of stolen moments and clinging to hope for a future that may never come to fruition.

As you drift off to sleep yourself, Xavier's presence wraps around you like a warm and protective blanket, shielding you from the darkness of the night. And even when you wake, that comforting warmth lingers as you go to Princess Meira's chambers.

As you tentatively step through the grand doors of the breakfast hall, a wave of fear crashes over you, threatening to send you fleeing in the opposite direction. This is a rare occasion for the King and Queen to join their children, Meira and her brother Xavier, for breakfast. You find yourself wishing that Meira had given you some warning beforehand, but then again, why should she? She has no way of knowing the depths of your heart's yearning for Xavier. With a deep breath, you give a gentle smile to the room, attempting to ignore the intense gazes of both the prince and his parents. Instead, you divert your attention to Meira with a cheerful expression and a graceful curtsy. "My Lady," your voice chirps softly, trying to convey a sense of ease despite the fluttering nerves within you. For a brief moment, your eyes meet Xavier's and you are momentarily lost in their depths before quickly looking away, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

As Xavier watches you move around the room, his heart rate increases and his pulse pounds in his ears. Seeing you among his family members, especially after your late-night encounter just hours ago, sends shivers down his spine. He exchanges a polite nod with his parents, their keen gazes flickering between the two of you as they pick up on the subtle signs of your shared secret.

Meira senses the tension and jumps in with a bright smile. "Good morning! I requested cherries for breakfast today!" Her delicate ivory fingers gesture towards a bowl piled high with fresh cherries, causing warmth and gratitude to wash over you at her display of kindness. Since starting as her lady's maid, Meira has insisted on treating you as an equal, trying to learn your favorite things and surprise you with them. Despite your short time together, it feels as though you have known each other for years, often losing yourselves in hours of conversation and fostering a blossoming friendship.

With a sly smirk and a glint of mischief in her eyes, she teases, "Funny... Cherries are Xavi's favorite too! So I made sure to get extra." Her gaze lingers on Xavier, who meets it with narrowed eyes and a simmering warning. But she remains cool and unfazed, her amusement evident in the way she brushes off his glare. "I'm sure you guys won't mind sharing though, right?" She passes the bowl to him, her infectious grin grating on his nerves.

Meira is known for her sharp wit and ability to gather information about everyone around her. She knows the latest gossip that threads through the court like poison, including the rumors about you and her brother. At first, she didn't believe them, but her hesitation was not due only to your differences in standing. As she observed Xavier closely over the years, she realized he had always believed that love was not meant for him, a fact that Meira could see clearly in his eyes when he stood outside the throne room after a conversation with their father about marriage arrangements.

She remembers his soft voice promising her, "At least one of us will marry for love. I'll make sure of it." At that moment, she vowed to do everything possible to make that dream come true for him, too. She firmly believes someone as wonderful as her brother deserves to be loved and cherished, not forced into a joyless partnership.

For Meira, love is something written in the stars and soulmates truly exist. And she will not rest until she can convince their parents to understand this as well. Raising awareness about your situation is just the beginning for her.

As Xavier takes the bowl from her hands, he can't help but appreciate her unspoken support and understanding, the weight of her touch heavy with unsaid emotions. The cherry in his fingertips is plump and dark, its deep red skin glistening under the soft lights of the palace. He examines it thoughtfully before popping it into his mouth, the burst of sweetness overwhelming his senses. His thoughts drift back to the previous evening, the memory of your lips and the taste of your skin still fresh in his mind. He offers you the next cherry with measured grace, the simple exchange infused with a deeper meaning. Your eyes meet as your fingers brush against his, accepting the fruit, and the air between you crackles with an undeniable energy.

Xavier notices his parents' prolonged interest in you, their gaze a mix of curiosity and speculation. Meira's well-intentioned efforts succeed in heightening their awareness of your relationship, though Xavier dares not speculate on their true intentions. When the royal family retires to the gardens for a stroll, he discreetly ensures that you walk close together. The fresh air is fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle trickle of a nearby fountain adds to the serene beauty of the flora surrounding you. It's a welcome respite from the confined atmosphere of the palace, allowing you both a fleeting glimpse of normalcy amidst all the expectations and regulations.

"You handled that earlier scene with such poise," Xavier comments softly, his voice filled with appreciation and admiration. "Though I can't help but think we may have given my parents cause for concern." He casts a discreet glance toward the monarchs, who seem engaged in their own discussions, but he can't shake off the feeling that they're listening closely to every word exchanged between you. "I must confess...it's becoming increasingly difficult for me to maintain proper distance when I'm in your presence," he admits honestly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding or reciprocation.

Despite the overwhelming impossibility of acting on your feelings, you can’t resist meeting his gaze with a longing of your own. The intensity of your mutual desire hangs in the air between you, palpable and unspoken. In an attempt to banish the weight of your forbidden emotions, you playfully tease Xavier as you continue your stroll together through the gardens. “I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much trouble, Your Highness.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of Xavier's lips, grateful for the lightness and joy you bring to what is otherwise a troubled mind. "It's not trouble," he murmurs softly, locking eyes with you. "It's a complication...but one I'm willing to navigate for the reward." His words linger, heavy with emotion and unspoken promises. As the sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow over the garden, the conversation shifts to less intense topics. As you rejoin the group, Xavier feels the weight of his duties settling back onto his shoulders. With one last lingering gaze at you, he returns to his responsibilities, cherishing your radiant smile in his mind.

As the day wears on and your duties and tasks for Meira consume your attention, thoughts of Xavier constantly consume you. And as night falls and preparations are made for bed, you both find yourselves retreating to your individual quarters - yearning for each other's presence in the quiet moments before sleep. The silence in your rooms serves as both a comfort and a cruel reminder of your separation; every tick of the clock echoing the distance between you.

Lying in bed with tangled covers, your hearts ache with longing and fear for what lies ahead. Unable to find rest, memories of your time together play on a continuous loop in your minds as you wait for the first light of dawn. Desperate for solace, you rise early, slipping into a simple robe and grabbing a book from your personal library before making your way to a secluded spot in the castle gardens.

The morning air is cool and carries the sweet fragrance of dew and blooming flowers. As you walk, trying to lose yourself in the words on the page, you eventually come across a tranquil spot under a tree with heavy white blossoms cascading down its branches. Settling onto the soft grass, you allow the peacefulness of your surroundings to calm the turmoil in your heart.

As the sun slowly rises and casts its warm, golden light through his own bedroom window, Xavier feels an inexplicable pull towards the gardens. With careful steps, he makes his way towards the secluded spot, almost as if he can sense your presence awaiting him. When he finally reaches the spot beneath the blossoming tree where you sit peacefully, he is overcome with a sense of belonging unlike anything he's ever felt before. Without saying a word, he takes a seat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he instinctively reaches for your hand. "Do you come here to escape?" he asks in a soft whisper, barely able to contain his emotions.

You look up at him in surprise, but any initial shock quickly fades away as you feel your heart swell with happiness at his presence. The touch of your hands together sends sparks flying between you, and you can't help but lean into it, closing your eyes and savoring the warmth of his touch. "Yes," you answer quietly, your gaze shifting down to where your hands are now tightly interlocked. "Do you have somewhere safe to escape to, Xavier?"

Your question brings a soft smile to his lips as he looks down at your entwined hands, feeling a sense of purpose and determination wash over him as he gazes upon the image of your connection. In a hushed voice, he confesses, "For so long, my refuge was in books and knowledge. I sought solace in the stories of others and the wisdom of ages past. But now..." He trails off, struggling to find the right words to express himself, yet knowing that sharing these thoughts with you is important. He takes a deep breath and continues, "Now, my sanctuary is with you. Every moment we steal away, every secret touch, every shared laugh or whispered confession - these are the things that give my life meaning and make all of the struggles worthwhile."

He raises your intertwined hands, his soft lips brushing against your knuckles before returning them to his lap. Leaning into you, his head rests against your shoulder as you sit in peaceful silence, taking in the tranquil surroundings of the gardens. You find a moment of true peace together in this secluded corner of nature, surrounded by its beauty and serenity.

It's a fleeting moment, fragile like a butterfly's wings, but it allows you to let your guard down just a little. Your hand instinctively travels up Xavier's neck, feeling the softness of his hair between your fingers. Without hesitation, you lean in to press your lips against his in a tender kiss. He responds immediately, melting into your embrace and pulling you closer.

His arms wrap around you protectively as your fingers continue to play with his silky locks. In each other's arms, lost in the depths of your love for one another, time seems to stand still.

Breaking the kiss, his eyes lock onto yours, his intense gaze reflecting the same fierce longing and adoration that fills your own heart. With a gentle touch, he traces the soft curve of your cheek, marveling at the beauty that radiates from within and without. Time seems to hold its breath at this moment, captured in the blissful seconds between heartbeats. Your lips hunger for more, your body yearning for his touch. But all too soon, the sound of approaching footsteps shatters the tranquility, pulling you back to reality.

With a quick glance around to make sure no one has witnessed your intimate moment, you quickly straighten and offer Xavier a hand up. "We should return to the castle," you murmur regretfully, torn between the desire to stay in his arms forever and the weight of your responsibilities awaiting you. Reluctantly, he allows you to guide him to his feet. As you walk back towards the castle together, your hands remain intertwined for a fleeting moment before separating due to the demands of propriety.

Your heart is heavy with conflicting emotions - guilt for indulging in this forbidden love, fear of being discovered and facing the consequences, and longing for more stolen moments like this with Xavier. Even inside the safety of the castle walls, the taste of his kiss lingers on your lips, a tantalizing reminder of what will never be fully yours. Needing space to process these emotions, you slip away unnoticed.

As the days slip by and your paths continue to intertwine within the castle's imposing walls, each encounter with Xavier is a delicate dance between longing and caution. The air crackles with tension as he watches you from a distance, his gaze tracing every graceful step and subtle gesture as you navigate the corridors of the palace. Your demeanor speaks volumes, guarded yet wistful, and it draws him in like a moth to a flame. He can't help but notice the way your hand trembles ever so slightly as you arrange a vase of flowers or the way your smile holds a tinge of melancholy. Each detail only fuels his fascination with you, stirring emotions he never knew existed. But beneath the exhilaration of these stolen moments lies an undercurrent of urgency, a sense that time is slipping away too quickly.

In the grand library, as you peruse through stacks of books, you can sense Xavier's presence before he even approaches. His warmth envelops you from behind, sending a flush to your cheeks and making it difficult to focus on anything else. You stammer out a greeting, trying to compose yourself in his proximity. But his nearness lingers, filling the room with unspoken desires and yearning. Your heart races as you struggle to maintain some semblance of composure.

"Can I help you find something, Your Highness?" Your words are formal and polite, but your eyes betray the depth of emotion bubbling just below the surface.

Xavier's breath catches in his throat at the sound of your voice, his entire being consumed by the intoxicating essence of your presence. He can't resist leaning in closer, his lips brushing against the delicate shell of your ear as he murmurs, "Actually, I came searching for something far more elusive." A heavy pause hangs between you, filled with palpable anticipation, before he continues in a low, deliberate tone. "Your understanding, perhaps?... Or maybe just a glimpse of that radiant smile that haunts my dreams?" He pulls back slightly, locking his gaze with yours, the electric connection between you igniting like a live wire.

In the dimly-lit library, your eyes are pools of liquid moonlight, reflecting the depth of your longing and the risks you're both willing to take for each other. "Even the simplest moments with you feel like an eternity," he confesses reverently, his sincerity and adoration shining through his words. "And yet, I find myself yearning for more - to lose myself in your eyes, to hear your laughter echoing through the night." His voice trails off, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he bares his heart to you.

You can feel his honesty wrap around you like a warm blanket, igniting a fire within your soul. Once again, you are acutely aware of the risks you take by being together, but you find yourself powerless against the strength of your feelings for him. His lips graze against your neck in a tender caress, sending shivers down your spine and leaving you momentarily speechless.

Your trembling hands grasp onto the edge of the bookshelf, seeking any support available as you give in to the overwhelming longing. Fatigue weighs heavily on your body, tired from the constant struggle to resist the alluring effect he has on you. Every fiber of your being aches for him, for what you know you want and need. With a soft voice, you murmur his name, feeling the resistance that once held you so firmly begin to dissipate. A small smile tugs at your lips before they meet his in a long-awaited kiss.

Xavier feels a wave of euphoria wash over him at your touch, filling him with an indescribable sense of triumph and love. Your lips part, allowing him to taste the sweetness of your yielding mouth. The exchange of breath and warmth between you leaves both of you breathless, lost in the moment's intensity. With a groan that's part relief and part desire, he presses you against the bookshelf, your bodies aligning as if drawn by some invisible force.

The weight of your breasts against his chest sends a jolt of pure lust coursing through his veins. His arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens and intensifies.

The heat between your bodies is palpable, a fiery intensity threatening to consume you both. You can feel yourself completely opening up to him, surrendering to the desires that have been building inside you for weeks. In this moment, all your defenses are laid bare as you grip him tightly, unable to hold back any longer.

"Kissing you has been consuming my thoughts for days," you breathe against his lips, your voice almost desperate with longing. Your thumb traces his bottom lip with a featherlight touch, savoring the softness and perfection of his mouth. "These lips, my prince...do you have any idea how perfect they are?" You kiss him again, losing yourself in the pleasure of his plush pink lips against yours. Your words ignite a fire within Xavier's soul, soothing the wounds left by the cruel hands of fate. He smiles against your lips, his heart pounding in his chest as he reciprocates your fervor with an intensity born from weeks of repression and desire.

Your unrestrained touch sends waves of pleasure crashing through him, and he moans softly, his fingers clutching at your hair as he kisses you harder. As you break apart for a moment, gasping for air, your eyes meet in a mirrored reflection of the intense passion that burns between you. You whisper against his skin with a soft smile, "This is dangerous, Xavier." Your words only serve to fuel the desire between you as you nuzzle into his neck, your fingers slipping under his shirt to trace delicate patterns along his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex beneath your touch.

Xavier's entire body trembles, your touch igniting a fiery desire within him, threatening to consume him whole. Your voice, husky and charged with danger, only adds to the already intense arousal that courses through his veins. With one hand, he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, taking in the sight of you with hunger and longing in his eyes. He sees a hint of uncertainty and resistance lingering in your gaze, but it's overshadowed by a deep love and longing that seems to eclipse any doubts. Empowered by your admission of risk, Xavier captures your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue teases at the seam of your mouth, seeking entrance, while his hands roam freely over every curve and contour of your body with a reverence bordering on worship. As his fingers trace the hem of your dress, just barely slipping underneath the soft fabric, he meets your eyes and silently seeks permission. Your heart pounds in your chest, hesitating in the face of such intense desire. But you make no move to stop him, leaning into his touch as if unable to resist its temptation.

With a soft sigh of relief, Xavier allows his fingers to slip under the hem and explore further - tentative and searching, tracing the contours of your midriff with light touches. He continues a slow journey upward, following the curves and dips of your ribcage with careful attention. In this dimly lit library, guided by the rhythm of your breaths, he feels acutely aware of the fragility of this moment; knowing that every second spent together is precious and fleeting. Yet despite this realization, he remains resolute in his determination to savor every moment, to etch these memories onto his heart and soul.

The intensity between you is palpable, a tangible force that binds you together for better or worse. Your heart races faster as his fingers trail down your body, leaving sparks of electricity in their wake.

You see the fire burning in the depths of his eyes, a reflection of your own desires. Knowing that your feelings are mutual, that you are both willing to fight for this love, gives you the courage to surrender completely to him. With a soft nod, you grant him permission to continue exploring your body.

Leaning back against the bookshelf, you sigh softly as his hands begin to undress you. The contrast of cool air against your exposed skin and the warmth of his touch sends shivers down your spine. And with each layer of clothing shed, your trust and vulnerability deepens within Xavier's senses.

Kneeling before you with reverence and awe, he places feather-light kisses along the column of your throat. His fingers work deftly at the clasp of your bra, revealing the smooth expanse of your stomach and the delicate lace beneath.

He cups your breast in his palms, feeling the supple flesh yield to his touch. His thumbs brush over your nipples, watching them harden and pebble under his caress. Your response ignites a surge of desire within him, and he knows that he must have you - claim you in every way possible.

Capturing a rosy peak between his lips, he suckles gently while his hands roam lower - seeking the heat between your thighs.

As his lips envelop your pert nipple, you let out a soft moan that echoes through the quiet library. Your head falls back against the sturdy bookshelf, surrendering to the delicious waves of sensation that wash over you. With each flick of his tongue and gentle suck, your body responds with eager shivers and arches. The anticipation builds as his fingers trail down, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, sending tingles racing up your spine. You can't help but bite your lip to stifle a cry as he discovers the damp evidence of your arousal, his gentle caress over the lace fabric of your panties setting off fireworks of pleasure throughout your body.

Your moans, the scent of your arousal, and your willing submission only fuel the fire raging within Xavier. As he slowly works to remove the final barrier between you, his fingertips dance along the delicate fabric, igniting a hunger in him that burns like no other. The sight of your reaction to him, the feel of your body trembling under his touch, is an intoxicating aphrodisiac.

With careful precision, he finally removes the lacy fabric, revealing the treasure he's longed to claim for so many days. He takes his time kissing a path down your abdomen, his hot breath teasing your skin as he approaches your glistening core. As he finally presses his lips to your most intimate area, he feels a surge of satisfaction and pure desire.

Your moans become more urgent and desperate as he explores the depths of your pleasure with his skilled tongue. The sensation of his mouth on your heated skin sends electric shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your entire being, making you gasp and cling to the edges of the bookshelf for support as you surrender completely to his touch.

As his slender finger slips inside you, your body responds instinctively, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your slick, gummy walls clamp tightly around him, reveling in the fullness he provides. You can't help but wonder how much more you could take if he were to give it to you.

Your pleas for more are barely above a whisper, but they are music to Xavier's ears, a seductive melody he can't resist. He continues to attend to your needy cunt, feeling your inner muscles clench around the second finger he works in. The velvety heat draws him in deeper with each thrust. As the tension builds within you, he can sense you nearing climax. With a growl of satisfaction, he brings his mouth back to your swollen clit, sucking gently as he increases the tempo of his fingers.

His determination sends you tumbling over the edge into oblivion. Your body convulses, and your pussy flutters wildly as you crest the peak of your climax. Xavier drinks in every moan and sob of pleasure, his own arousal reaching a crescendo as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. Your juices trickle down his chin, the sight of his enjoyment only adding to your ecstasy.

When the storm finally subsides, you collapse against the bookshelf, breathing heavily. As Xavier wipes away the evidence of your pleasure, his heart swells with affection and pride. In this moment, he craves you so badly - the feel of your body wrapped around his, the warmth of your embrace as he thrusts into you and fills you with his seed. And when the time is right, when you're ready, he will take you as his own.

The spark ignited by your lips lingers between you both, and Xavier eagerly responds to your craving for more sweetness. When you finally break apart, he is left breathless and wanting.

With a gentle tug, he leads you deeper into the library, its walls lined with ancient tomes and forgotten knowledge. The scent of old paper and leather fills your senses as you settle onto a plush velvet couch, his arm draped around your shoulders. Your breath catches as he leans in for a kiss, his lips meeting yours in a fiery embrace. Lost in each other's touch, time seems to slip away unnoticed as you lose yourselves in this private sanctuary, hidden behind towering shelves of books.

His hand traces patterns on your skin as your bodies twist and turn on the couch, two halves of a whole coming together in perfect harmony. The soft light filtering through stained glass windows casts a warm glow on your entwined forms, wrapping you in a cocoon of intimacy.

Your fingers thread through his silver hair, pulling him closer as your legs wrap around his waist. Every kiss, every touch ignites a spark within you, filling you with a sense of belonging and completeness that you've never felt before.

As you revel in the euphoria of each other's presence, quiet voices drift towards you from afar. Barely able to catch your breath, you break away from the kiss to meet his eyes, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Shh," you whisper playfully, pressing a finger to his lips. "We wouldn't want to get caught like this, Your Highness."

Xavier smirks against your lips, the glint in his eyes hinting at the scandalous thoughts running through his mind. A sly grin spreads across his face as he leans in, his voice a husky whisper. "Then again, perhaps I wouldn't mind being caught. The scandalous headlines and the outrage it would cause among the courtiers... I find myself rather addicted to causing chaos wherever you are."

Without warning, he captures your lips in another passionate kiss, the intensity of his longing and desire palpable on his tongue. Your mouths dance and meld together, exploring each other's depths as you lose yourself in the embrace. As his hands roam down to cup your breasts, the skin-on-skin contact sends shivers down your spine. You can feel his thumbs gently graze your hardened nipples, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips.

He nibbles at your bottom lip before trailing kisses along your jawline and down the sensitive curve of your throat. Your hands grip onto his hair, urging him on as he continues to explore your body with his skilled hands.

With deliberate slowness, he slides a finger inside you, filling you with an overwhelming sense of fullness. The sensation is almost too much to bear, causing your entire body to convulse around him. Seeing the ecstasy etched onto your face only adds fuel to Xavier's fire, and he claims your lips once more with a triumphant smile.

Your bodies remain entwined on the couch as he begins to explore deeper, setting a steady rhythm that mirrors the beating of your hearts. As your moans grow louder, he presses his free hand against your mouth to muffle the sounds. The risk of being discovered only intensifies Xavier's desire, and the way he dominates you with his hand sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

The pressure builds within you like a crescendo, threatening to consume you completely. With each thrust of his finger, you feel yourself inching closer to the edge. And when he slips a second finger inside you, your body explodes in an intense orgasm that washes over you like a tidal wave. You cling onto him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you cry out softly, your voice muffled by his hand.

A fierce desire to give Xavier the same pleasure he has given you consumes your entire being. As you straddle him, your lips meeting in a fiery kiss, he eagerly accepts the surge of passion and unbridled intensity emanating from you. Your weight pressing down on him, your breasts pressed firmly against his chest, and your fingers tangled in his hair create a powerful image of dominance and submission that sends shivers down his spine. He groans into the kiss, reveling in the taste of you and the way your tongue dances with his.

Your lips trail along his neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake before you pull back and meet his gaze, silently asking for permission as you hover your fingers over his skin. Without hesitation, he nods in approval, whispering softly against your cheek as his lips brush yours in a feather-light kiss, "Yes. Leave your mark on me. I wear it like a badge of honor."

Eagerly, you continue to trace delicate hickeys along his neck and collarbone, relishing the promise of ownership they bring. But when you pause to admire a subtle purple bloom near his collarbone, he reaches up to gently cover your hand with his, urging you to claim him fully. "In fact," he murmurs huskily, "I want more. Claim every inch of me. Make me yours, inside and out."

With a soft moan, you press your lips to the tender spot once more before sinking your teeth into it with just enough force to leave a lasting mark.

As your lips dance along his skin, your hands eagerly roam over the dips and curves of his chest, tentatively tracing the lines of muscle and bone. With an eagerness that borders on greed, you quickly unbutton the rest of his shirt and push it aside, your gaze immediately drawn to his nipple. A small gasp escapes your lips as you run a thumb over the light-pink bud, feeling it grow firm under your touch. Meeting Xavier's intense gaze for a fleeting moment, you lean down and take the hardened peak into your mouth, sucking and nibbling with gentle ferocity.

The unfamiliar sensation sends electric currents of pleasure coursing through him, his breath hitching in his throat as he surrenders to the sensation. His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you close as he gives himself over to the exquisite pleasure you're giving him. Underneath your skillful touch, he becomes both conqueror and conquered, a paradoxical mix of desire and submission that feels completely natural yet also disorienting. He knows without a doubt that he would never relinquish this type of control to anyone else, yet with you it comes effortlessly, like taking in his next breath.

As you continue to lavish attention upon his nipples, you can't help but smile at the sight of him writhing and moaning in pleasure, lost in the depths of arousal. Leaning back slightly, you take in the beautiful sight before you - Xavier lying there with his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath, his skin flushed with desire. Your eyes trail down the soft trail of hair leading to his abs and you feel a primal urge to follow it with your tongue. Lowering your lips to his stomach, your fingers continue to tease and play with his nipples while your mouth leaves a trail of kisses and licks in its wake.

No one has ever worshipped his body like this before, and Xavier is overcome with a mix of awe and desire as you free his throbbing cock from its confinement. Any worries about being caught are pushed away by the sheer pleasure of feeling your mouth on him, your tongue tracing wet paths along his shaft. He gasps, his hips involuntarily bucking up towards you as you eagerly lap up the salty-sweet droplets of precum that have gathered at the tip of his arousal. In this moment, he feels completely and utterly desired and loved, as if he were a divine being worthy of being worshipped by a devoted follower.

Despite the potential consequences, he finds himself unable to resist the urge, his hands tangling in your hair as he guides your mouth to his throbbing cock. As his fingers guide you, you let out a small moan, feeling your anticipation build as you take in the sight of his aroused state. The head of his member is swollen and flushed, veins pulsing against his pale skin. Your mouth waters at the thought of tasting him, and you trace the prominent veins lightly with your tongue before taking him fully into your mouth.

You start slow, savoring the taste and texture as you gradually increase the pace and depth of your movements. With one hand caressing and stroking the length that doesn't fit in your mouth, you use the other to cover his mouth and muffle his own cries of pleasure. A wave of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that you're the one responsible for bringing Xavier to such a state of ecstasy.

Pausing for a brief moment, you meet his eyes as you bob your head back down, taking him deeper this time. He pushes against the back of your throat, but instead of pulling away, you swallow around him, allowing yourself to relax and fully enjoy the taste and sensation of him in your mouth. Your tongue swirls and licks along his length, eliciting desperate, muffled moans from him.

As you descend again, taking him to the hilt, Xavier feels his climax approaching rapidly. His muscles tense and strain as he eagerly surrenders to the exquisite sensation only you can provide. A low growl escapes his throat as he threads his fingers through your hair, guiding you, urging you on. Your skilled mouth and talented tongue have reduced him to a quivering mess, completely at your mercy. He can't help but marvel at how effortlessly you bring him to the brink of bliss. With each flick of your tongue and suction of your lips, he inches closer and closer to his release. As he focuses on your eyes, filled with adoration and desire for him, he feels himself losing control. With a guttural groan, he gives himself over completely to the waves of pleasure crashing through his body.

Sensing that he's on the verge of coming undone, you redouble your efforts, sucking harder and faster while never breaking eye contact. You want to see the exact moment when he loses all control, when he surrenders himself wholly to the pleasure you're providing. And then it happens. His eyes go wide, his fingers clenching tightly in your hair, and a deep groan rumbles from deep within his chest. His body jerks uncontrollably as the first spurt of semen hits the back of your throat. You instinctively swallow and continue to milk his cock with your mouth as the rest of his climax follows in powerful waves, filling you with his warmth.

Eventually, his movements slow and his grip on your hair loosens. You release his now-sensitive cock with a satisfied smirk, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you crawl up to straddle his body. Your skin is flushed and glistening with sweat, but your eyes shine with satisfaction and desire. "You taste amazing," you murmur, running your fingers along his jawline before leaning in for another kiss.

Xavier gazes up at you, his eyes sparkling with adoration and gratitude. He gently caresses your cheek, marveling at the perfection that stands before him. "In every way imaginable, you are a flawless creation," he breathes, his voice raw with emotion. As he speaks, his hands wander to your hips, pulling you flush against him once more. With one hand still on your cheek, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your skin.

But as much as you both want to stay in this moment forever, reality soon sets back in. Xavier reluctantly begins to disengage from your embrace, helping you both stand and pick up the scattered clothes around you. "We should probably get dressed before someone discovers us," he murmurs, though the reluctance is evident in his tone. You can't help but pout slightly, not ready to leave this intimate moment just yet.

"I know," you say softly, your voice barely audible above the sound of your ragged breaths.

Xavier tightens his hold around you, holding you as close as possible as he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in deeply. He softly reminds you that every moment apart is simply a countdown until you can be together again.

"Every moment apart is torture," you admit quietly, your heart aching with love and longing. With one final, lingering touch, you give him a small smile before turning to leave.

Xavier's eyes are fixated on your retreating figure, his heart heavy with longing and regret. Every step you take away from him feels like a stab to his chest, but he knows that he can't call you back. His duty as a prince and the weight of your illicit love keep him rooted in place, his hand pressed against the cool wood of a bookshelf as he struggles to maintain his composure. When you finally disappear from sight, he is left alone with his thoughts, the memories of your forbidden moments burning vividly in his mind. With a heavy sigh, he straightens his attire, steeling himself for the long day ahead as he tries to push away thoughts of you and focus on his duties.

But even as Xavier attends to his royal obligations throughout the day, his mind constantly drifts back to you. He steals glances whenever possible, hungry for any sign of your hidden love. Each stolen touch and lingering gaze heightens the anticipation between you both, building up an insatiable desire for the next time your bodies will come together, your hearts beating as one.

As the day wears on, Xavier finds it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything else. Even during important meetings and events, his thoughts are consumed by visions of your secret encounters. And when the moon begins its ascent into the sky, he eagerly counts down the minutes until he can escape from the constraints of his public life and join you in your designated sanctuary.

Finally, the moment arrives, he makes his way to meet you in the dimly lit room. As soon as he enters, he sees you waiting for him with that same hunger burning in your eyes. Without a word, you fall into each other's arms, your lips meeting in a passionate, all-consuming kiss.

Your hands explore each other's bodies, tracing every curve and contour with a careful touch as if committing them to memory. Your heartbeats sync, pounding in unison as passion courses through your veins.

Stripped of all clothing, you lay bare before one another, your limbs entangled on a makeshift bed. Xavier's fingers map every inch of your body, marveling at the smoothness of your skin and the curves of your figure. He traces a line from your waist to your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts and across the plane of your stomach. Each touch ignites a spark that travels along his nerve endings. In this moment, you are his masterpiece, a work of art created solely for his pleasure. And he is determined to take in every detail, every reaction. His touch reaches the apex of your thighs, cupping your sex with gentleness and awe at the heat radiating from within you.

With deliberate slowness, he teases you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body with each gentle graze of his fingertips. Your breath quickens, and your body arches in response to his expert touch. You become lost in a symphony of sensation, craving more as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. But just when you think you can't take it anymore, he retreats, denying you the release you so desperately want.

You whimper, your hands clutching at the sheets as you try to maintain control, but it’s a losing battle. “Please,” you beg softly, your voice barely audible above the sound of your labored breaths. “Xavier, please…” His touch changes, becoming firmer, more demanding.

He slides a long finger inside you, his hand moving with such precision and skill that you can't help but arch your back in pleasure. Your body convulses around his intrusion, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. The pleasure is almost painful in its intensity, but you crave it all the same. As he continues to stroke you, you can feel your orgasm building, a tidal wave of sensation threatening to crash over you at any moment. But just as the pleasure reaches its peak, he pulls back, his movements slowing as he brings you back from the edge.

Your plea echoes through the room, inflaming Xavier’s desire to devour you whole. He's addicted to your response to his touch, the way your body trembles and convulses under his ministrations. He removes his finger, watching as you pant and squirm, desperately seeking the relief he’s denied you. A smile spreads across his lips, both proud and wicked. He revels in this game of control, relishing the power he holds over your pleasure.

However, he can no longer resist the temptation of your body. His lips trail a path of fire up your inner thigh, leaving a blazing trail in their wake. Every inch of skin that his hot breath touches turns to liquid desire. "You taste so sweet," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe as he parts your lips and presses his tongue against your clit. He eagerly explores every inch of your delectable cunt, savoring the intoxicating flavor that only you possess. With each flick of his skilled tongue, he brings you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. You writhe beneath him, gripping the sheets as you struggle to keep yourself grounded in reality. But his mouth is relentless, never giving you a moment's respite from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

As your orgasm builds within you, Xavier adds another layer to his attack, pressing two fingers inside you while continuing to lavish attention on your throbbing clit. The combination of sensations is overwhelming, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge. Just when you think you can't take any more, he adds yet another level of intensity, pushing you over the edge into complete and utter bliss. Your body convulses violently as waves of pleasure wash over you, your cries of ecstasy muffled by the skin of his neck as you bury your face against him.

In that moment, Xavier is consumed by the intoxicating taste of your release. He drinks in every drop like a man dying of thirst, savoring the sweetness of your passion as it coats his tongue. Even as your aftershocks ripple through you, he continues to stimulate you with his mouth and fingers, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you're completely spent. Only then does he ease back, trailing soft kisses along your inner thigh as he withdraws from you.

Leaning up, he captures your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, pouring all of his own desires into the press of your lips. As he breaks the kiss, his eyes bore into yours with a smoldering intensity. "Now it's my turn," he murmurs, rolling onto his back and spreading his legs invitingly, his body already trembling with anticipation.

His words ignite a fire within you, filling you with a sense of eagerness and purpose as you eagerly accept his challenge. You move closer to him, your hands running along the defined muscles of his thighs as you drink in the sight of his aroused form. His erection stands proud against his abdomen, glistening with pre-cum and pulsing with desire. With a tender smile, you lean in, your lips pressing softly against the head of his cock. As the salty tang hits your tongue, an electric thrill shoots through your body, only fueling your desire. You begin to explore every inch of him with your mouth, experimenting with different techniques to bring him the ultimate pleasure. His body responds eagerly, his breathing growing heavier and his hips subtly rising to meet your mouth.

Xavier is lost in the sensations you're creating for him, reveling in the warmth and wetness that envelop him beneath your touch. Your lips form a perfect seal around his cock, applying just the right amount of pressure as you slide up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke.

Your skilled tongue becomes a master artist, painting intricate patterns of pleasure across the surface of his shaft, teasing and tormenting his most sensitive areas with expert precision. Every lick and suck elicits a moan from deep within him, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through his entire body.

The room is filled with the sounds of your shared passion, the wet, slick noises of your lovemaking mingling with his ragged gasps for air. His body trembles under your touch, desperate for release yet determined to hold himself back. He wants to savor every moment with you, to explore and taste and possess you in ways that he never has before. Reluctantly, he pulls away from your eager lips, his erection glistening with a mixture of your saliva and his own arousal.

Your eyes follow him as he withdraws, filled with a mixture of longing and disappointment. You understand his desire for more, you know what he expects of you and you can’t help but share your feelings, pleading with him to understand. “I’m scared, Xavier,” you admit softly, pain shining in your eyes as they meet his. “I want nothing more than to be with you, but…” You shake your head, giving him a soft smile as you trail off, your fingertips tracing the sharp line of his jaw as you murmur, “What happens after? What will become of me when I’m forced to love you from afar?” You voice a secret worry that weighs heavily on your heart. “It’ll likely be fine for a while… but eventually you’ll be expected to marry for the sake of your lineage, for your crown. And what then…?” You hate to do this in such a vulnerable moment for both of you, but the words just seem to tumble out. Your eyes meet his again, tears threatening to spill over as you whisper desperately, “You’ll just be with another in order to fulfill your duties?”

As your words wash over Xavier, they strike a chord deep within him, stirring up a tumultuous mix of guilt and responsibility. He'd always been aware that this situation was far from ideal, but hearing your fears spoken aloud brings the harsh reality into sharp focus. With gentle hands, he lifts you up and cradles you against his chest, leaning back against the cool stone wall for support. “I cannot promise you an easy future,” he confesses softly, his voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the night. “My duty to my kingdom, to my family, is a heavy burden that I may never truly escape.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing. “But I swear to you that I will do everything possible to ensure your happiness. I won't let you suffer, nor will I let you feel alone or unloved.”

His words fail to bring the comfort and reassurance you yearned for, and you find yourself pulling away from him in an attempt to gain some distance. You avoid meeting his gaze as you begin dressing, feeling his eyes follow your every move around the room. “I don’t think I can do this, Xavier. I’m so sorry. I thought I could, but I..." You trail off, feeling your heart shatter into a million tiny pieces with each word. You can't help but feel guilty; after all, you knew what you were signing up for when all of this began. What you truly want is for him to fight for your love, to reject the idea of being with someone else in the future. It's an unrealistic desire, and deep down, you know it. But even still, you can't push it aside. Finally mustering the courage to meet his gaze, a small smile graces your lips as you utter the three words that have been weighing heavily on your heart.

Xavier stands there, paralyzed with shock and confusion, as your words wash over him like a tidal wave. "I love you," you say, and his entire world seems to shift on its axis. A surge of emotion overtakes him, a whirlwind of joy and despair that threatens to engulf him completely. In that moment, he realizes the depth of his feelings for you, how much he desires to protect and cherish you. But duty and tradition hold him back, weighing heavily on his heart. The idea of a future together feels impossible, and this knowledge pierces him like a knife through the chest.

Summoning all his courage, Xavier steps towards you, reaching out to take your hands in his. His voice trembles with emotion as he speaks. "I can't imagine a life without you by my side." His words fill you with a potent mixture of hope and dread, but you refuse to let them break you. With a firm resolve, you untangle your hands from his and flee from the room, propelled by an urgency greater than any before.

Xavier remains rooted in place as you rush past him, each step taking you further and further away from him. Your parting words echo in his mind—"I have to go." He's uncertain if it's a physical or metaphorical departure, but either way, it feels like a gut-wrenching blow. For a long moment, he stands there staring at the closed door, his mind swirling with thoughts of what just transpired.

Finally, he exhales deeply and makes his way to the desk in the corner of the room. Collapsing into the chair, he buries his face in his hands. Strands of silver hair mingle with his fingers, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside him. He has no idea what lies ahead or if he can change the course of events now set in motion. All he knows is that the very thought of living without you is unbearable.

As the sun begins to rise, casting a pale glow over the palace, Xavier steels himself for the challenges ahead. His determination hardens like tempered steel as he prepares to fight for the chance to make you his. This isn't the end; it's only the beginning of a new chapter, one where he'll do whatever it takes to be with you.

With each step you take away from Xavier, the warmth and love he represents fades, replaced by the harsh and cold reality of the outside world. The air is still and hushed, as if nature itself is holding its breath in anticipation of the decisions you both must make. You inhale deeply, taking in the crisp morning air, trying to clear your mind of all distractions. You know you must figure out what comes next, but for now, you let your feet guide you aimlessly through the streets. Eventually, you find yourself in the palace gardens, surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets.

As you sit on a bench, lost in thought and seeking answers amidst the chaos, the tranquility of the garden envelops you and eases your worries, if only slightly. Just as you are about to leave, a faint noise catches your attention from behind. Turning, you see Xavier sitting on the same bench where you were just moments ago, bathed in the flickering glow of torchlight. A mix of emotions floods over you - relief, longing, and a hint of apprehension. As he notices your presence, part of him wants to rush to your side, to hold you tight and never let go. However, another part remains cautious, understanding the delicate balance he must maintain. He calls out your name softly, his voice carried on the gentle breeze. As he draws closer, he can see the concern etched on your face and the uncertainty reflected in your eyes. "Did we come to the same realization?" he asks tenderly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face with a gentle touch of his fingertips against your skin. "No matter what lies ahead, I will stand by your side through every triumph and hardship."

His words are filled with conviction as he whispers them into your ear. You find yourself leaning into his embrace, your head resting against his chest. "And how do you plan to make this dream of ours come true?" you question, the reality of your circumstances hanging heavily in the air.

Xavier smiles softly, holding you close as he answers. "It won't be easy," he admits, the weight of your situation heavy on his heart. He pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "First, I'll speak with my parents and explain our feelings. Perhaps they can offer guidance and support."

The steady thump of his heartbeat echoes in the quiet garden, a soothing rhythm that calms your nerves. You nod slowly, understanding the difficult road ahead but finding strength in the fact that you’ll face it together. "I trust you," you whisper against his chest, feeling a sense of peace and security in his strong embrace. The peaceful silence of the garden envelops you as you stay there for a while longer, basking in each other's presence. As you look up at him, a small smile plays on your lips, mirroring the grin on Xavier's face.

Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back to meet your gaze. The thought of speaking with the King and Queen makes your heart race, but the love and support Xavier has shown you gives you the courage you need. “Thank you, Xavier,” you whisper gratefully, overwhelmed by his unwavering love and loyalty. He squeezes your hand gently and speaks softly, “Thank you. Your bravery and unwavering love inspire me to keep fighting for us, no matter our challenges.” As you near the grand palace gates, its imposing formality seems less daunting with Xavier by your side.

“We’ll face this together,” he reassures you in a low, intimate voice. “Every obstacle, every doubt, we’ll overcome as a team.” With one final comforting squeeze of your hand, he releases it, ready to stand by your side as your love story unfolds before the entire kingdom.

His words fill you with hope and determination as you prepare to enter through the giant doors before you. But as they loom over you, all of your courage and determination begin to falter. The realization that the King and Queen are waiting on the other side fills you with apprehension and a small squeak escapes your lips as you grab onto Xavier's arm, seeking his comfort and support. "You want to speak with them now...!?"

As Xavier's hand covers yours, a sense of calm washes over you. You can feel the weight of his palm and fingers against your skin, grounding you in this moment. His reassuring smile offers a glimmer of hope as he guides you towards the grand doors of the royal chambers. Your heart races with a mixture of nerves and anticipation, knowing that this conversation could alter the course of your lives.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lies beyond those imposing doors. As Xavier knocks, the sound rings through the halls, signaling your arrival. The servants quickly open the doors, revealing the opulent and elegant atmosphere of the royal chambers. Walking alongside Xavier, you can feel the steady beat of his heart mirroring your own.

This is it – there's no turning back now. In a moment of nervous humor, you whisper jokingly, "You must really want to get into my pants, huh?" But Xavier is too anxious to appreciate your attempt at levity and only gives a small smirk and shake of his head.

As you enter the room, your eyes are immediately drawn to his parents seated on their thrones. Their expressions remain impassive as they observe your entrance. The weight of their gaze makes you feel exposed and vulnerable, but then you feel Xavier's hand intertwine with yours, providing a lifeline amidst such intimidating figures.

Gathering all his courage, Xavier stands tall and meets his parents' gaze. He takes a deep breath before beginning to speak. "Mother, Father, I have something important to discuss regarding the woman by my side." He pauses briefly to squeeze your hand before continuing. "From the moment I first laid eyes on her, I knew she was special – unlike anyone I had ever met before. And as I've gotten to know her these past few weeks, I've come to realize that my feelings for her go beyond mere attraction or fascination. They are rooted in a deep love and respect for her as a person." Your eyes never leave his, your grip on his hand unwavering.

With strength drawn from your presence, he shares the story of how you confessed your love and your shared desires for a future together. And in that moment, surrounded by the regal atmosphere and powerful figures, it's clear that there is nothing more important to Xavier than the woman standing beside him, holding his hand.

You stand quietly by Xavier's side, your chest tightening with each word he shares about your relationship with his parents. The gravity of the moment weighs heavily on you, a knot forming in your stomach as you wait for their reaction. Your eyes dart between them, searching for any hint of disapproval or condemnation in their expressions. "Queen Xaria..." you begin, addressing Xavier's mother with a shaky voice. "I understand the complexities that our love presents, especially given Xavier's duties and responsibilities to the crown. But I want you to know that my love for him is true and pure. I would never intentionally bring him pain or hardship." You pause to gather your thoughts before continuing. "If you desire me to step away from him, I will do so. But if you give us a chance, I promise to love, protect, and cherish him with every fiber of my being."

As Xavier listens to you, admiration shines in his eyes for your bravery in facing his parents. Your words ring with sincerity, a testament to the depth of your love for him. His parents exchange unreadable glances as they consider your plea. The air in the room thickens with tension as silence stretches on. Gripping your hand tightly, Xavier silently encourages you to remain steadfast and believe in him and your love.

Finally, his mother speaks, her tone measured and thoughtful. "We understand the depth of your feelings for each other," she begins, pausing to glance at Xavier before meeting your gaze again. "But we also recognize the weight of responsibility that comes with Xavier's position as the future king."

You hold onto Xavier's hand tighter, seeking comfort and reassurance in his touch as she trails off. Anticipation builds within you as she continues speaking. "However, we cannot deny the strength of your love nor the joy it brings you both. As loving parents, our greatest wish is to see you both happy and fulfilled in your lives." She takes a deep breath, her expression softening as she adds, "But there is one condition. You must be prepared to face the challenges and scrutiny that will undoubtedly arise from your union. There will be those who question your choices and try to use your relationship against you. Can you both promise to stand together, united and unwavering, in the face of these storms?"

Xavier's chest is heavy with a mix of emotions as his mother's words settle over him. Relief and trepidation swirl within him, knowing that her willingness to support his union with you comes with its own set of challenges. He takes a deep breath, trying to focus on the present moment, on the woman standing steadfast by his side, her hand entwined with his in a symbol of their unbreakable bond. "From the moment I knew you were destined to be mine, I vowed to stand by your side through whatever came our way," he says, his words filled with a fierce determination. "Together, we've faced countless obstacles, each testing our commitment to one another. And through it all, our love has only grown stronger." Turning to address his parents directly, Xavier's tone conveys the seriousness of his declaration. "We understand the challenges that await us. We acknowledge the potential backlash from those who might disapprove of our union. However, we also firmly believe that our love is a force capable of overcoming even the most daunting opposition."

You look at Xavier's parents, standing tall and confident beside him, and feel a surge of pride and love for this man who has chosen you as his partner. "Your Majesties," you say, addressing them respectfully but with conviction in your voice. "I understand the gravity of the situation and the challenges that lie ahead." You squeeze Xavier's hand reassuringly and continue, "I promise to stand by your side, now and forever, as your partner, your equal, and your friend."

He looks at his parents, their expressions still guarded but now holding a glimmer of understanding and acceptance. His father, King Aldric, clears his throat, breaking the silence that follows your declarations. "Very well," he says gravely. "While we cannot guarantee an easy path, we will not stand in the way of your happiness." He pauses, exchanging a knowing look with his wife. "We will support your decision, Xavier, and do everything in our power to ensure your union is recognized and respected within Philos and beyond. However, we implore you both to remain cautious and mindful of the potential repercussions that may arise from your relationship."

A bright smile lights up your face as you address the King and Queen. "Thank you, Your Majesties," you say sincerely. "I promise to make you proud."

Turning to Xavier, you can't help but smile with pure joy in your eyes, a reflection of the love and adoration you hold for each other. As his parents' smiles beam with pride and understanding, he stands by your side with a newfound confidence and purpose.

"We are forever grateful for your guidance and trust," Xavier addresses his parents, his voice steady and full of conviction. "We vow to honor our people and uphold our duty as future rulers." With this heartfelt statement, you both make your way into the bustling hall where guests have gathered to celebrate your union.

As the heavy doors close behind you, Xavier pulls you into a tight embrace, his laughter ringing out in relief and happiness. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his love and support, any remaining nerves or doubts dissipate.

"We did it, my love," he whispers against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He lifts you up in his arms with ease, twirling you around as he gazes at you with adoration and wonder. You share a soft kiss before he leads you onto the grand ballroom floor where an orchestra plays a lively waltz.

Underneath the glittering chandeliers, you move in perfect harmony with each other, lost in the music and each other's gaze. With every step and spin, you feel a sense of joy and freedom like never before.

Meeting his gaze, your heart swells with overwhelming love as you respond with equal passion and joy. "Yes, Xavier. And together, we'll continue to defy the odds," you declare, a sense of determination and certainty in your voice.

The sight of the crown prince dancing with a lady's maid may raise eyebrows and stir whispers among the guests, but in that moment, it doesn't matter. For in each other's arms, shielded from judgement and outside pressures, your love is all that truly matters.

The final notes of the waltz fade away, leaving a lingering sense of euphoria in their wake. Xavier leads you back to your chambers, your arms remaining wrapped around each other, reluctant to part ways after such a magical evening. A soft smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he speaks, his words brimming with unbridled love and adoration. "Our love is no longer a secret, and I couldn't be happier to call you mine." He presses a tender kiss to your lips, pouring all of his emotions into the simple act. The warmth and tenderness of his touch leave you breathless, your heart overflowing with love for this man who has captured it completely.

As you stand in the quiet comfort of your chambers, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the fragrant scent of roses, a thought crosses your mind - you really don't want him to leave. Your voice is soft and tentative as you speak, unable to deny the longing in your heart. "Do you want to sleep here tonight?" Xavier's heart swells with joy at your invitation, a radiant smile spreading across his face as he looks into your eyes. Without hesitation, he nods eagerly, his voice just as soft and full of tenderness. "More than anything."

You prepare for bed together, moving around each other with ease and familiarity, as if you've shared a bed countless times before. As you settle into the plush covers, he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your body and holding you against his chest. "Goodnight, my love," he murmurs against your skin, kissing your temple softly.

With your head resting against his shoulder, you close your eyes and allow yourself to fully surrender to the sensation of being held by the one who means everything to you. "Goodnight, my prince," you whisper back, your voice barely audible above the gentle hum of silence that fills the room. Hearing your words, Xavier tightens his embrace even more, feeling a surge of protectiveness and devotion towards you. As sleep starts to claim you, he remains awake for a while longer, watching over your peaceful form with a fierce sense of love and adoration. And as sleep finally claims him, too, your bound hearts continue to beat as one - two souls intertwined in an endless dance of love and passion.

As the days fly by in a whirlwind of wedding preparations, Xavier is struck by how effortlessly the two of you fall in sync. Your love grows stronger with each passing moment, like a delicate flower blooming under the warmth of the sun. Whether strolling hand in hand through the palace gardens or stealing kisses in the privacy of your chambers, every interaction feels charged with a depth of emotion and affection that leaves him breathless. Despite the urgent nature of the situation and the looming presence of court officials and advisors, he finds solace in your calming presence and unwavering support. Together, you navigate the complex labyrinth of royal protocol and familial expectations, your love serving as a beacon, guiding you through the chaos and illuminating your path forward.

As the wedding date draws near, the palace transforms into a vibrant tapestry of colors and scents, each detail carefully curated to reflect the beauty and significance of your union. On the eve of your wedding, you sit together in the moonlit grandeur of the palace library. The soft glow of candlelight dances across your skin, making you appear ethereal and otherworldly. Xavier takes your hand in his, marveling at the delicate curves and the warmth radiating from your very essence.

"In this short time, you've become the sun to my sky, the breath in my lungs, the very reason for my existence," he whispers, his voice filled with awe and wonder. Looking up at him, your eyes shimmering with tears, you are overwhelmed by the depth of love and adoration reflected in his gaze. Smiling softly, you squeeze his hand reassuringly, your heart overflowing with love and devotion.

"And you are the stars in my sky, the rhythm in my heart, the dream I never dared to believe could come true," you reply, gazing back at him with equal intensity. As your lips meet in a tender exchange, time seems to stand still. The weight of your impending nuptials is momentarily lifted, replaced by a flood of warmth that fills Xavier's heart to bursting. He savors the taste of your lips, the softness of your touch, and the love that flows between you like a river of molten gold.

When you pull away, your eyes lock, the depth of your connection evident in the way your gazes dance and meld together. And in that moment, he knows without a shadow of a doubt that you are the missing piece to his puzzle, the love he's yearned for all of his life.

With a gentle but firm grip around your waist, Xavier guides you back to your chambers. Inside, he continues to hold you, your bodies intertwined like two halves of a whole. Your laughter and quiet conversations fill the air as you bask in the love that radiates between you.

As you both prepare for bed, Xavier's eyes never leave yours. Tucked under the luxurious covers, you feel safe and loved in his arms. With a heart overflowing with love and happiness, you whisper softly, "Thank you for choosing me, Xavier." His sweet smile and loving gaze are all the response you need.

In the stillness of the night, as sleep claims both of you, Xavier holds onto you tightly, dreaming of the future that awaits you. In his dreams, he sees the children you'll raise together, the legacy you'll build as king and queen of Philos. And when dawn breaks, he awakens with a start, your name on his lips and excitement pulsing through his veins.

Xavier's eyes remain fixed on your peaceful face as the first light of day filters through the curtains. "Today, we seal our fate," he murmurs, tracing his fingertips lightly across your cheek.

The touch of his fingers on your skin stirs you from your slumber. With a gentle smile, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a tender kiss. "Today, we become one," you whisper against his lips, your voice filled with emotion.

Standing face to face, ready to embark on the most important day of your lives, Xavier is struck by the enormity of your love and its impact on his life. From the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew that you were meant to be his. And now, as you stand before him as his bride, that destiny is finally being fulfilled.

Taking your hand in his, Xavier brings it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm. "Forever and always," he promises, sealing it with a loving gaze that speaks volumes of his devotion to you.

As you walk hand in hand towards the grand throne room, where your family, friends, and subjects await to witness your union, he steals glances at you, marveling at the beauty and grace that defines you. Your dress, a masterpiece of delicate lace and flowing satin, hugs your every curve and sparkles in the warm glow of candlelight. It complements your natural loveliness perfectly, making his heart swell with pride and adoration.

The sound of soft music fills the air as you glide down the aisle on the arm of your father, your head held high with confidence. At last, you reach the altar, where the priest waits to perform the sacred rite.

You listen attentively as he begins the ceremony, your mind focused on the vows you are about to exchange and the lifetime of love that awaits you. With each word spoken, you feel your bond strengthening, the barriers that once separated you dissolving like sand between your fingers. The warmth of Xavier's hand in yours reassures you that together, you can conquer anything.

As the ceremony progresses, you are acutely aware of the responsibility of being Xavier’s wife, his partner in every sense of the word. Yet, rather than feeling daunted by the challenges that lay ahead, you are filled with a sense of courage and resilience.

“As I stand before you today, I give you my heart and pledge my love for eternity," You speak from the depths of your soul, gazing into Xavier's deep eyes that hold a world of love for you.

Your vows resonate deeply within Xavier, filling his heart with a sense of joy and contentment. As the priest invites him to exchange his vows, he takes a deep breath, his throat constricting with emotion. Looking into your shining eyes, he’s overcome by the intensity of his feelings for you.

“From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the one I would spend the rest of my life loving. As I stand before you today, I offer you my heart, my soul, and my love, pledging to cherish and protect you until my final breath. I promise to lead our people with wisdom and justice, always remembering that my greatest achievement is the love that binds us together.”

As he finishes speaking, the priest pronounces you husband and wife, and Xavier feels a surge of elation and relief. He leans in to kiss you, your first kiss as a married couple, your love blazing like a beacon as you seal your vows.

With your loved ones and supporters by your side, you walk hand in hand down the grand aisle of the throne room, basking in their cheers and applause. The reception is a lavishly decorated affair, filled with the vibrant colors of flowers and streamers, the melodic strains of music, and the warmth of friendship and acceptance. As you dance with your new husband under the twinkling lights, you whisper words of love against his ear, knowing that this moment will be forever etched in both your hearts.

His strong arms hold you close as your first dance as husband and wife becomes a beautiful symphony, the rhythm of your hearts beating in perfect harmony. Xavier feels overwhelmed with emotions as he looks around at the smiling faces of your guests, each one a cherished friend or family member who has played a part in shaping your lives together. As the night wears on, he takes in every toast, well-wish, and congratulatory hug with gratitude and joy, feeling truly blessed to have such amazing people in his life who love and support him unconditionally.

As the grand festivities of the wedding come to a close, Xavier seeks refuge in the tranquil palace gardens, craving a moment of solitude amidst the whirlwind of joy and celebration. Under the twinkling stars, he finds you waiting for him, hand outstretched. You stroll together, the cool night air carrying whispers of love and secret desires and hopes for the future. Eventually, the comfortable silence is broken by your voice, tinged with both nervous energy and curiosity. "So... at what time will the consummation take place?" Although part of you dislikes the idea of being watched during such an intimate moment, you know it's tradition and necessary.

Your question elicits a small smile from Xavier, who also wishes for a more private and intimate experience. "Traditionally, the consummation ceremony takes place after the wedding feast and festivities have concluded, usually around midnight," he explains in a gentle tone. He can sense your thoughts swirling and reaches out to lift your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "But don't worry... Once the formalities are over, we'll sneak away and create memories that belong only to us." He leans in closer, his words a warm breath against your skin.

You nod eagerly, your eyes shining with anticipation. As the night wears on and the remaining guests continue to revel in the wedding festivities, you and Xavier make your way to the designated room for the consummation ceremony. Despite its public nature and slight awkwardness, there's an intense wave of arousal that sweeps over you as Xavier's body hovers over yours. In that moment, surrounded by onlookers yet lost in each other's embrace, you feel like no one else exists in this world except for you two. You nibble on his bottom lip playfully as your eyes lock with his, a soft, teasing smile dancing on your lips. "Take me, Xavier," you whisper breathlessly. "Show them who I belong to."

As your lips part, a surge of electric desire courses through Xavier at your bold declaration. He cups your face tenderly, his thumbs brushing against the delicate curve of your cheekbone as he whispers back, “You are mine. In this chamber and for all eternity.” He aligns his body with yours, feeling the warmth radiate from your skin.

His hands roam over every curve of your body, tracing the elegant lines of your collarbone before settling on your hips, pulling you closer to him. Breaking away from the kiss again, he nuzzles his nose against your throat, inhaling your intoxicating scent as he peppers your skin with feather-light kisses and teasing bites. His lips trail downward, pausing to worship each of your perked nipples through the thin fabric of your gown before continuing their path along your abdomen. When he reaches the waistband of your dress, he pauses, looking up at you with a sultry gaze that sends a rush of heat through your core. “May I?” he asks softly, seeking permission to continue.

Your cheeks flush crimson as you nod eagerly, completely giving yourself over to him. “Yes… please don't stop,” you breathe out in anticipation. He removes the fabric from your body with gentle tugs and caresses, revealing your stunning figure clad only in a sheer slip that leaves little to the imagination. He drinks in the sight of you, his pulse quickening at the erotic image before him. His lips continue their descent, exploring every inch of your sensitive skin as your legs begin to tremble with anticipation. The wait is almost unbearable, but finally, his fingers travel under the delicate lace of your slip, finding the wetness pooling there. With a deep groan, he traces your clit before slipping inside, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips.

Guided by your responsiveness, Xavier continues to explore every inch of your body with his skilled fingers. They trail along your inner walls, teasing and tantalizing as he steadily builds your pleasure. His lips follow suit, leaving a trail of soft kisses and lingering nibbles on your skin, savoring the taste of your arousal. As your breaths become ragged and your moans more insistent, he knows that the moment is near. He slows his pace, wanting to prolong this exquisite torture for both of you, wanting to make this moment last forever.

With a gentle thrust, he enters you, feeling the warmth and tightness of your body as he claims you completely. A collective gasp echoes through the chamber as you become one, but the audience fades into the background as he moves within you. Every nerve ending in your body sings with pleasure as you melt into him, the boundaries between you blurring as your hearts beat in perfect harmony. His movements grow more urgent, his thrusts deeper and more powerful as your passion reaches its crescendo.

And then it happens - that mind-blowing climax that sends shockwaves through your entire being. With one final, explosive burst of pleasure, you fall over the edge, your body wracked with spasms of pure bliss. Witnessing the look of utter ecstasy on your face as you come undone in his arms is a sight Xavier will carry with him forever. Your pleasure is his own as he pushes you both to the brink.

He gasps out your name, his own release barreling towards him like a raging storm. With one final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, planting his seed and finally claiming you as his own. The world stands still for a moment as you both bask in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. The only sound is the symphony of your gasps and moans mingling with the distant cheers of your witnesses.

As your pulses gradually slow, Xavier cradles you close, relishing the warmth and closeness of your joined bodies. “You are mine, now and forever,” he whispers against your skin, sealing his vow with a tender kiss. “And I will cherish and adore you every moment of our journey together.”

“Yours, Xavier… Always and forever,” you murmur softly, your voice barely audible above the din of the crowd. Xavier gathers you in his arms, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness wash over him as you prepare to leave the ceremonial space behind. He holds you close, knowing that from this moment on, you are his everything.

As his hand gently grasps yours, he leads you with a sense of anticipation and longing toward the sanctuary of his chambers. The soft light from the candles cast flickering shadows across the walls as you enter the dimly lit room, your heart racing with excitement at the prospect of finally being alone together. He lowers you onto the large, plush bed with careful hands, his gaze never wavering from yours as he begins to undress, revealing every inch of his sculpted form. Settling in beside you, he pulls you close, your skin tingling at the sensation of his naked body pressed against yours.

His hands explore every curve and contour of your body, igniting sparks of ecstasy with each caress. Your breath hitches as he trails lower, teasing and tantalizing your most sensitive areas. With a gasp, you arch your back, giving into the sensations overwhelming you.

His words send shivers down your spine as he claims you as his own once again. His touch becomes more urgent as he delves deeper inside you, bringing forth waves of pleasure that leave you begging for more.

As his length presses against your thigh, you reach down to guide him towards your entrance. Your eyes lock in an unspoken promise as he slides inside you, filling you completely.

A soft growl escapes his parted lips as he feels your tight heat envelop him, your grip around his length urging him to sink deeper into your welcoming depths. The sound sends shivers down your spine, knowing that you have the power to elicit such a raw response from him.

“Fuck, angel,” he groans, his voice laced with both pleasure and reverence. “You feel unbelievable wrapped around me like this.”

He begins to move, each withdrawal almost fully before plunging back in with an irresistible force. A steady rhythm is set, quickly building in intensity as he picks up speed. The air is filled with the sharp sound of skin slapping against skin in perfect harmony with your ragged breaths and the desperate whimpers that spill from your lips.

Sweat glistens on Xavier’s brow, a telltale sign of his impending release. With a deep groan, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, showering it with tender kisses and nips as he works towards your mutual climax.

“So close,” he pants, his thrusts becoming erratic as he fights to hold back the tsunami of pleasure building within him. “I want to be inside you when we… Ahh!” With one final, powerful thrust, he surrenders to the inevitable, spilling his essence deep within you as a wave of ecstasy crashes over him.

Your body arches off the bed, consumed by overwhelming pleasure as you cry out his name over and over again. “Xavier… oh, Xavier,” you moan, your voice strained with pure bliss as his essence fills you.

As he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, you cling to him desperately, your nails leaving unintentional marks on his back as you try to hold onto the last shreds of control you possess. “Please… I need you to finish me off,” you beg, barely able to form words as waves of ecstasy continue to wash over you.

In response, Xavier redoubles his efforts, his thrusts becoming even harder and faster as he drives you over the edge. And finally, with a scream torn from your throat, you reach the peak of pleasure, your body convulsing around him in pure ecstasy.

With the aftershocks still coursing through your body, you collapse onto the rumpled bed sheets, your chest heaving with each ragged breath. A look of pure satisfaction spreads across Xavier's face as he watches you intently, unable to resist the temptation to claim you again. Letting out a low, guttural growl, he positions himself above you and grasps your hips tightly, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

As he leans in close, he lets his lips graze your ear. “You’re soaking me, angel,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. “I can feel your hunger, your insatiable craving for more... You were made to be fucked by me, weren’t you?” With each firm and forceful stroke, your bodies collide with an intoxicating rhythm that sends shivers down your spine.

As Xavier's movements become more urgent and primal, he can see the mix of pleasure and pain flickering in your eyes. And instead of holding back, it only pushes him to take you harder, faster - lost in the haze of ecstasy and passion that surrounds you both.

Feeling his own release approaching like a storm building within him, Xavier reaches down and grabs a handful of your hair before yanking your head back. He leans in close to nip at your earlobe before whispering a dark promise that sends shivers down your spine. "You're mine," he snarls, his body tensing as he reaches the brink of his release. "No one else will ever have you like this. Is that clear?"

The intensity of his possession only fuels your excitement, and you crave this primal display of his love and dominance. As Xavier's body pounds into yours, you can feel the pressure building within you once more - the familiar heat spreading through your core as your next orgasm approaches.

"All yours. I swear," you pant breathlessly, your voice barely audible above the sounds of your lovemaking. "Please...don't stop."

Your body writhes beneath him, pleading for more as your own climax draws near. And just as you're about to reach the peak, Xavier gives in to his own primal urges and releases himself inside of you once more. With a deep, guttural groan, he fills you to the brim with his seed, savoring the sensation of your walls clenching around him.

"That’s my girl," Xavier growls softly, his hips jerking erratically as he empties himself into you completely.

Gradually, he relaxes, collapsing onto your body in a state of exhaustion. You both lay intertwined, your skin glistening with sweat as you bask in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. "That was beyond words," Xavier murmurs, nuzzling against your neck while catching his breath. "You're stunning when you submit to me like that... so eager to please."

He peppers gentle kisses along your collarbone before pulling back and gazing into your eyes. "But there is still so much more I want to explore with you, so many opportunities for us to create pleasure together." A sly glint dances in his smile as he trails his fingers down your side. "Perhaps we can indulge in some new games. Ones that push the boundaries of your endurance..."

The mention of trying something new sends a rush of excitement through you. "What exactly do you have in mind?" you ask with a mischievous smirk playing on your lips.

Xavier's smile widens as he imagines the possibilities. "Well," he begins, his voice low and filled with seduction. "There are endless options we haven't explored yet. Some involve restraints and submission, others delve into sensory overload and heightened stimulation." He pauses, letting his fingers trace lazily along your arm as he formulates his ideas. "We could experiment with a 'kitty play' scenario. You would be my devoted pet, bound and blindfolded, relying on your other senses as you follow my every command." He watches closely for your reaction, his heart racing with anticipation.

You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him close for a passionate kiss. "The thought of being completely at your mercy, chained by you and obedient to your every desire... I want that so badly."

A surge of excitement pulses through Xavier at your confession, the idea of you bound and surrendered to his control too irresistible to ignore. "Is that so?" he murmurs, his voice filled with desire and longing. "Then tonight, I'll be your master and you'll be my faithful, submissive pet."

He rolls off of you, his body still slick with sweat and the evidence of your earlier passion. With a newfound energy, he springs into action, retrieving the necessary tools— silken ropes, a soft blindfold, and a small bell attached to a collar. As he returns, you watch with rapt curiosity and eagerness, your eyes sparkling with excitement like two jewels in the darkness. Gently, he lifts the blindfold, placing it over your eyes, ensuring it fits securely but comfortably. The soft fabric envelops your vision, plunging you into a world of anticipation and surrender.

Next, he moves to the collar, presenting it to you with a reverence and care that belies the hunger in his expression. The cool metal feels both foreign and tantalizing against your skin, a tangible symbol of your submission to him.

You feel Xavier’s warm hands on you, guiding you to stand as if you were a precious doll under his control. The floor beneath your bare feet seems to shift and sway with every step, adding an intoxicating sense of disorientation to your heightened state of vulnerability. His fingers trail down your sides, lingering on your hips before drifting lower, teasing the edges of your slick folds.

Finally, with deliberate movements born from years of experience and desire for domination, he weaves the silken ropes around your body, securing you to a sturdy post in the center of the chamber. The rope snakes over your skin, creating intricate patterns that accentuate your curves and highlight your vulnerability. As he works, his eyes roam over your yielding form with possessive desire.

Once satisfied with the bindings, he steps back to survey his handiwork, admiring the way your body is stretched out before him, adorned with the subtle trapping of bondage.

He can't help but murmur in appreciation at the erotic tableau before him. "Such a pretty sight," he says thickly, his voice laced with desire. "Helpless and available for my pleasure alone."

Leaning in close to you, he whispers a command into your ear. "Now, kneel before me and present yourself. Show me how eager you are to please your prince."

Following his instructions, you slowly bend your knees and lower yourself onto the cool floor. You feel his hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you forward until your head is bowed in submission.

You listen attentively for his next command, ready to obey whatever he may have in store for you.

As if sensing your readiness and anticipation, Xavier leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead before reluctantly pulling away. His footsteps echo softly in the silence as he moves to retrieve a small feather he had hidden away for this very occasion.

Returning to your side, he begins to trace delicate patterns across your cheeks and down your neck with the lightest touch of the feather. Goosebumps rise on your skin in response to the gentle caress, making you shiver with each soft sensation against your skin.

Xavier continues to guide your senses with the feather, using it as an extension of his will to direct your focus and heighten your sensitivity. The uncertainty of where the feather will land next only adds to your anticipation, sending shivers down your spine and causing your heart to race.

As Xavier's whispers wash over you like a soothing balm, you take deep, slow breaths, trying to steady your racing heart. You can almost feel the soft feather grazing your skin, its occasional touch sending shivers down your spine.

Your senses are heightened, attuned to every sound, scent, and sensation, all under his command and presence. As he continues to tease you with the feather, he introduces new elements into the mix, occasionally running his fingers along your bare skin in between the delicate strokes of the feather. The merging of sensations is heady and intoxicating, keeping you on the edge and wanting more.

Moving behind you, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, "Count the strokes." With each whispered number, he strikes your bare skin lightly with precision, alternating between gentle caresses and firm strokes. The rhythmic pattern creates a symphony of pleasure and pain that threatens to drive you mad with desire. As the count reaches twenty, Xavier pauses, his hot breath against your ear as he asks, "Are you ready for more?" Without hesitation, you respond with a quiet "Yes, I'm ready."

Stepping away briefly, Xavier retrieves a small leather paddle from the shadows. Its smooth surface glides over his fingertips before he returns to your side with deliberate steps. He traces the flat of the paddle down your back, from the nape of your neck all the way down to the curve of your hips, applying just enough pressure to soothe and seduce. The sound of leather meeting skin echoes through the room as each spank fills you with both pleasure and pain. He varies the location and intensity of each strike, creating an erotic melody that leaves you gasping for more. And then, with a calculated motion, he raises the paddle higher and brings it down with a firm, controlled spank on your bare ass.

Your body jerks in response to the sharp sting of the paddle, but you quickly register Xavier's low and approving voice. "Good girl," he praises, his words sending shivers down your spine. "That's it. Feel the sting, but don't forget to embrace the pleasure that follows." As each strike lands, you feel a burst of intense pain, quickly followed by a rush of warmth and pleasure that radiates throughout your entire being. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you struggle to process the overwhelming sensations. "Feels so good, my prince... please don't stop..."

Bound and blindfolded, your body writhes in pleasure under the force of each strike, a sight that fills Xavier with an intense arousal. After several more strikes, he senses you may be reaching your limit. Gently setting aside the paddle, he returns to your side, his hands tender as they explore your heated skin and soothe away any lingering pain. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers softly in the stillness. "You did well... Your resilience and submission are truly inspiring."

As his throbbing cock finds solace in the warmth of your eager mouth, Xavier revels in how seeing you restrained ignites such a primal urge within him - a need to dominate and use you as his own personal playground. With each measured and deliberate thrust, coated in your saliva and infused with raw, animalistic desire, he relishes in the fact that your bound form and blindfold restricts your ability to counter or resist. "Take it all, princess," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he drives deeper into your warm throat. "Show me how grateful you are for everything I've given you."

Lost in the sensations, you exist solely for Xavier's pleasure - eager to fulfill any demand he may have, no matter how depraved or perverse. The intensity within Xavier reaches a fever pitch, his grip on your bound wrists tightening as he loses himself in the ecstasy of claiming you utterly.

"That's it," he grunts, his voice rough with exertion as he drives deeper, chasing the brink of climax. "Let me use you as I see fit."

With a final, almost brutal push, he buries himself to the hilt, his hips thrusting forward as he fills your throat with his essence. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over him as he rides out his orgasm, every muscle in his body tense with ecstasy. He empties himself completely inside you, each powerful pulse of release sending shivers through his entire being.

Slowly, he withdraws from your mouth, his softening cock sliding free with a wet pop. Leaning down, he brushes a strand of hair from your dampened cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your plump lips. “Incredible,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with awe and admiration. “You took everything I had to offer and then some.”

Gently, he releases your bindings, taking care not to disturb the tranquility that now envelops you. Cradling your face in his hands, he presses a tender kiss to your lips, pouring all the love and adoration he holds for you into the simple gesture.

You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the embrace and silently pleading for more. “Make love to me once more? I want to be sure I get pregnant…” Your words ignite a surge of desire within Xavier. The thought of you carrying his child is almost too much to bear, stirring deep-rooted feelings of joy and possessiveness within him.

He scoops you up in his arms, cradling your naked form against his chest as he carries you towards the bed. His lips graze softly over your forehead, cheeks, and finally your lips as he lays you down. His body aligns with yours, his rigid cock seeking entrance into your slick, inviting warmth.

With a slow, steady push, he enters you once more. As he begins to thrust, he whispers vows of love and devotion into your ear, promising to protect and cherish you for all eternity.

With each intimate movement and stroke, your body responds with soft moans and gasps of pleasure. As you call out Xavier's name in a state of pure bliss, feeling his release pulsing inside of you, a sense of warmth and contentment washes over you, surpassing any physical satisfaction.

In the aftermath of your shared ecstasy, he presses his lips against yours, absorbing your cries and greedily breathing in your comforting scent. Holding you close, he cradles your trembling form as you come down from the peak of pleasure. In this moment, illuminated by the warm glow of the chamber and enveloped in the heat of your bodies entwined, he knows that he has found his home in you, his soulmate. Leaning down, he caresses your lips with a tender kiss. "Sleep now," he whispers against your skin, smoothing gentle strokes along your back to soothe you into peaceful rest. "Dream of our future together, filled with love, laughter, and joy..."

With a final sigh of contentment, you surrender to sleep, acutely aware of Xavier's comforting presence and grateful for his protection. As he holds you close, he realizes that with you by his side, he feels invincible and unstoppable. Together, you will conquer whatever comes your way and leave your mark on the world as a testament to the love and passion between you.

In this tranquil moment, he is overwhelmed with gratitude for the gift of your love and the promise of a lifetime spent wrapped in your arms. Your love story is just beginning to unfold like the sunrise, and he eagerly awaits the new chapters that await you both as you write your own epic tale, hand in hand and heart to heart.

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velvetydream · 3 months ago

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꒰ : 🩹 [ Patches ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : After the fight he had with Antonius, you were there to patch him up.

Pairing : Telemachus x fem! Reader

Word count : 1.2K Words

Genre : Fluff

Warnings ➵ Telemachus is hurt

a/n : I love this guy sm and omg I can't wait to write more for this silly lil guy T T♡

Also I feel like this isn't m, best work sadly, I just didn't really know how to write this, that's also why it's shorter, but imma defi write a longer one for him again!

Artwork Credits : Gigi on YouTube

┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡

Athena turns around, sensing someone approaching the chambers of the prince, sitting on the railing in her owl form in an instant.

"My prince? I've been so worried! Your mother is so mad at the suitors! And by the gods look at you! What have those monsters done!" Rushing over to the young man, your hands find their way to his cheeks, holding his face softly in your hands. "I-I'm fine! Don't worry! Just some scratches!" He tried to assure you, looking over to Athena, who just gave him one last look before flying away, leaving him to your mercy. "My prince those aren't just scratches! The queen will be even more angry when she sees this!" Telemachus's face was littered with wounds, blood at the corner of his lips, scratches on his face, and a big one on his eyebrow. "Let me patch you up please, I don't want this to get infected." You softly grab his hand as you lead him to his vanity and sit him down, before gathering everything you need to clean his wounds.

Telemachus simply watches you with a rosy blush on his cheeks, would his mother see him right now she'd start preparing a wedding already. She was counting on you to become his fiance, having known you and your parents for years. You were born in the palace to your father, a warrior, he was away with the king for a long time now, probably dead, while your mother was the closest and most confidante maid she had. So you grew up in the palace, learning the ways to serve, and soon became the maid to the prince. He was barely two years older than you; in the last years, he had grown so much that he was now towering over you.

"This looks bad, my prince; how dare they hurt you like that.." You grumble as you wet cloth and softly clean the dried-up blood, holding his chin with your other hand carefully. Telemachus was watching you the whole time while doing so, admiring your scrunched up eyebrow and nose, concentrated eyes, and how your tongue slightly pokes out from the concentration.

"I'm fine don't w-worry! It's just a scratch!" He tries to assure you, but you just scoff at that; of course, he would say that. Wanting to argue back, you couldn't as a knock echoes through the room, straightening your back as the queen walks in. Bowing slightly you greet her respectfully, your own mother closed behind her. "M-Mother!" Her face was stern as she approached her son. "What happened?" Telemachus was obviously nervous to answer her, knowing very well she hates when he gets hurt, on top of the suitors being the cause of this. "They provoked me. I had to fight back!" Penelope looks at him, disappointed, shaking her head slightly. "You shouldn't have my son, look at your face; that will leave a nasty scar. What would your father say." Her hands were softly on his shoulders as her words enraged him. "He would be proud! Proud that I try to protect my house and mother!" Pulling back from her, he turns his back to her frustrated.

The queen lets out a sigh, looking over at you with thankful eyes for being with him right now and patching him up before she turns around and leaves, your mother also giving you one last look.

"My prince I need to finish cleaning your wounds." He's stood with his back to you, looking at the picture on his nightstand, an old picture; you weren't even born when this was made; he was merely an infant in the arms of his mother, the king, his father beside them. "He wouldn't want you to keep hurting. Let me finish, please." Softly, your hand lays on his arm as he shakes his head, frustrated.

Guiding him to sit down on his bed's edge now, you crouch down to sit in front of him on the floor after getting the utensils you need to clean the wounds. Grasping his hands softly to clean the knuckles that were bruised and bloodied from landing a few good punches on Antinous. "Why..? Why can't I be like my dad? He was amazing.. She would've never scolded him for fighting for her.." You noticed tears gathering in his beautiful eyes. "Oh dear, you're her only son; she is worried. You're just as great as your father, and someday you will see that too, my prince.." Tears fall from his eyes as your hand reaches up to carefully wipe the tears away.

You finish cleaning his knuckles before going to clean up everything you had used. Glancing over to Telemachus again to see his face in his hands, form crouched over and small. "Telemachus.. Don't beat yourself up so much.. Please.." Taking a seat beside him, you didn't treat him as your prince and weren't sitting down as his maid but as his childhood friend. You know you were crossing some lines; you were a servant, and you shouldn't stay longer in his chambers, let alone sit beside him on his bed. "You're an amazing person, remember that time we were kids? When I got bullied by some of the royal girls visiting? I wasn't able to defend myself because I am a mere servant; you stood up for me, telling them off, telling them how much more royal my personality was than their ugly ones." He slowly looks up at you, red and puffy eyes looking into your own. "So start thinking better of yourself alright?" Hand moving to rest on his damp cheeks, his face softly nuzzling against your hand, eyes closed.

"Thank you.." The words softly leave his mouth, before opening his eyes again to look at you. "Of course.. come here.." Opening your arms, he eased into your embrace, his own arms around your waist as his head came to rest on your shoulder. You know this was something he needed right now, a soft embrace to assure him everything was fine. "You're fine.." One hand is softly rubbing over his back, while the other one softly pats over his brown hair.

"I am.. Thanks to you." He leaves your embrace now with a smile. "I'll grow stronger for my family and you!" He has a grin on his lips now as he announces he will grow stronger. Looking over to his balcony now, you follow his gaze, gasping softly. "Woah.. An owl.. And such a pretty one at that too.." You smiled; the owl looked pretty, a light brown with a white spot, and the ends of her feathers looked like they shimmer gold in the sun. Telemachus, though, was shocked that Athena would show herself that easily and even speak to him in his head. 'I like that one, court her.' Before flying away, make you run onto the balcony to watch the owl fly away.

Telemachus quickly follows you as he watches Athena fly away, a bright red hue on his face from her words. "Oh my, you're so red! Do you have a fever?" Looking at him worried and before your hand could meet his forehead to check his temperature, he runs away laughing, yelling how his training should start now and he needs to get stronger, making you giggle and follow him, Argos quickly joining you two.

#x reader #imagines #imagine #epic x reader #epic masterlist #epic the wisdom saga #epic the musical #epic #epic telemachus #epic telemachus x reader #telemachus #telemachus x reader

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oizysian · 4 months ago

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03 // Being forced to kneel // Little Wolf

Summary: Lady Maximoff deals with an intruder.

Pairing: Vampire!Scarlet Witch x Werewolf!Y/N

Warnings: submission, slight bondage

Word count: 800

Kinktober masterlist

“Mistress, we found this beast outside on the castle grounds.”

In chains was a werewolf, snapping and snarling at the guards that had captured it. They had chains around its neck, arms, and even its legs. How it managed to walk was beyond the Queen. She watched as they dragged it over to her, watching as it struggled every step of the way. She tilted her head, smiling as it flung one of her guards into a wall and two others had to jump in to subdue it.

“Kneel before your Queen.”

It snarled at her in response. Her dark eyes narrowed at it, her perfectly manicured nails clicked on the armrest of her throne impatiently, her silver rings gleaming.

“I said ‘kneel!’” She snapped and the guard on her left kicked the wolf in the back of the leg, causing it to lose its balance and fall down on one knee.

“That’s how I like my prisoners.” She smiled widely and gestured to the guard holding the chain around the creature's neck to pull.

It let out a growl, falling down on both knees and attempted to free itself from its bindings.

She raised her hand once more and the guard let up on the pressure, and it began to calm down.

“I don’t want to look at this … beast anymore. Change. I want to see who was brave enough to trespass on my grounds.”

The beast panted heavily, staring her down, before bowing its head and letting out a loud sigh. Before her eyes, the giant wolf turned into a normal sized woman, who was shaking with emotion.

“What a surprise. I expected it to be another man coming to kill me. Or force me full of his seed.”

At her words, the woman looked up, disgusted at the thought. No, she hadn’t been here to harm the Queen. On the contrary, she wanted to serve her. But these fool guards had captured her and ruined everything.

“What do you want?” She finally asked, looking into the tortured eyes of the wolf-woman.

“To serve.” Her voice was hoarse with misuse.

The Queen looked down at her prisoner, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“And what makes you think you can serve me?”

“I’m strong,” she huffed. “And I’m loyal.”

“Bring her here.” The guards dragged the naked woman to the throne, handing the Queen the chains that were wrapped around the prisoners neck. “Remove those chains.”

They followed orders, freeing her arms and legs, leaving only the chain around her neck in place.

“Leave us.” She directed towards the guards and they all hesitated a moment before backing up and leaving the throne room.

She pulled on the chain and the woman fell to her knees at her feet, head bowed.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” The wolf replied.

“A beautiful name.” She hummed.

“Lady Maximoff, please let me serve you. I’ll do anything -”

“Anything?” She questioned and the other woman nodded curtly. “Come here.” She beckoned and the wolf obeyed, crawling up to the foot of her throne, head still bowed. “Lift my skirts.”

She raised her head, eyes wide with confusion, but obeyed nevertheless, lifting up the Queens skirts and holding them up, waiting for her next command.

“Lick my pussy. Make a meal out of it.”

The wolf was unsure of the Queen’s intentions, so she stayed still at her feet, still holding up her skirts.

“I know you’re not dumb.” She said, tugging on the chain. “Go on.”

She hesitated, licking her lips before crawling up the throne and settling between the Queen's legs, letting the skirts fall down behind her. Eager to please, she kissed her inner thighs, licking and nipping at her before pressing opened mouthed kisses along her slit. She could hear the Queen moaning as her tongue explored her cunt, dipping inside her and swirling around her throbbing clit.

She could feel the Queen’s hand pushing her head down through her skirts, urging her on.

“Oh, yes,” the Queen whispered, her hips rocking up to meet the girl’s tongue. “You’ll do.”

Y/N hummed against her, lapping at her wetness greedily, happy to be pleasing her. She gripped at her thighs, holding her still as she began to tremble underneath her hands.

“Fuck yes, little wolf, I’m gonna cum.”

Her words fueled her inner fire, her own slick coating her inner thighs as she brought the Queen to release. The Queen pulled up her skirts, releasing the wolf and letting her crawl out from underneath them.

“I think I’ll be keeping you.” The Queen breathed, smiling to herself, tugging the chain around her neck so she got closer to her.

Y/N climbed up onto her lap and Lady Maximoff kissed her, tasting herself on her lips.

“Oh, yes, I’ll be keeping you.”

#oizysian’s kinktober 2024 #oizysian writes #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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myladysapphire · 7 months ago

Text

Red

you are a priestess of R'hollor, sent to dragonstone to assure the bloodline of the prince who was promised. And though you are welcomed by the queen, prince Jacaerys only looks at you with trempidation, seeing your place at his mothers side to be some ploy. But luckily for you there is always a way for the red priesstes to sawy others to their cause.

based of this request

word count: 1,476

CW: MDI 18+,smut, p in v, oral (m reciving), not proofread!

Jacaerys Veleryon x red priestess!reader

Masterlist

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: defintly canon divergant, and does not follow the plot of hotd or got.

You had been sent to Dragonstone before the dance of dragons to treat with Rhaenyra. Sent on a mission by the cult of R’hllor to ensure the bloodline of the prince who was promised survived.

And though you had quickly won over Rhaenyra, winning a seat on her council, you had yet to win over her son and heir.

With years of wisdom, and a skilled seer, she saw you as a key advisor and so your advice was greatly valued by her.

But the prince Jacearys was weary of your presence. Not taking kindly to just how quickly you had found yourself on the council, or to how close you and his mother had grown.

But what he was most weary about was just how enthralled by you he was.

The second he had seen you he was enchanted, his eyes always roaming over to yours. At dinners he always found himself seated beside you, his yes drawn to your low-cut red dress.

You were always in red. Your gowns a deep blood red, matching the blood ruby of the necklace always clasped around your neck.

The gem seemed to glow, as if enchanted, and all Jace could ever imagine was taking it off and replacing it with his hand as he filled you with his cock.

Perhaps it was the teasing smile you would give him whenever you spoke, or how you seemed to always match his heated glare with your own.

But nevertheless, his thoughts were filled with lust and desire, all for you.

“My prince” you greeted, as he walked into his rooms to find you seated on his desk.

“Did the guards let you in?” he asked, moving towards you. He seemed unsure of your presence, still unsure of what to make of you, of your place by his mother’s side.

“no” you said, smirking.

“Then how- “

“It matters not, my prince” you said as he came to stand before you. “Do you hate me so much that you cannot even stand my presence?” you teased.

“I do not hate you” he denied.

“Then what is it, hmm? Is it that you are jealous?” you said, moving your face closer to his.

“Jealous of what?” he said, not unkindly.

“I do not know my prince, perhaps it is that your mother chooses my council over your own…” you trailed of noticing his angered face. You smiled slightly. “Do not worry, sweet prince, you have no need to be jealous.” You hand moved to his chest.

“And why is that” he mused, swallowing slightly as you started to caress his chest.

“I only act in your interest” you said, motioning him to sit, on the chair in front of you.

“My interest”

“Yes...you are the future king, are you not?”

He nodded, slowing as you began to open your legs.

“I only wish to protect the realm, and as king is that not your duty?” you asked, your legs open fully know, your bare cunt on display.

“It is...yes” you dropped your hand from his chest, moving it to play with skirt of your dress.

You smiled, “did you know that as a babe I was gifted to the temple of R’hollor, bound to serve the lord of light before I could even talk…and then my skills as a seer were discovered.” You said as moved your hands to your shoulders, teasing Jace as you toyed with the sleeves of your dress, pulling them down ever so slightly. “And as a seer I see many things, do you know what one of those things was?”

He shook his head, his eyes drawn to your cleavage.

You smiled, teasingly, “you on the iron throne, your curls” you moved to touch his curls, threading them through your fingers, as you pulled his face closer to yours “your brown eyes, and the conquers crown before your brow, the very image of a king” your mouths were so close, so close that you were sharing each other’s breaths.

“And as a king, you can have whatever your heart desires…any wife…any lover” you whispered, and as the word lover left your mouth, his lips descended on yours.

It was a heated kiss, fuelled by the envy he had felt for you, the desire he had felt, and the pure lust he had dreamt of.

You moaned into his mouth, a pure unfiltered moan, which caused Jace to act.

He stood from his chair, pushing you back on the desk. He pulled up of what little of your dress remained on you.

His body covered yours and he continued to kiss you, his hands flying to your side as he pulled you towards him. His tongue teasing your lips before plunging into your mouth.

His hips ground against yours, his clothes cock rubbing against your bare cunt, as you laid on the table, his tongue dominating your mouth.

He pulled back Sharpley, settling back his in seat, taking in your naked from.

As you sat up, he drew you towards him, his eyes firm.

“Anything I desire?” he questioned.

You nodded,

Breath heavy.

He laughed slightly, “and if I wanted you off my mother s council? If I only wanted, you by my side and not hers?”

“Then I would do as my king bids” you said, moving of the table, to settle between his knees.

Your hands toyed with the laces of his breeches.

He smirked, “good.” He titled his head, “then your king bids you to suck his cock” he said, as your hands tore into his breeches, his cock springing free.

Taking him into your mouth, he let out a low moan.

His hands coming to grasp your head as he began to thrust his hips into your mouth, fucking your face, as you sucked on his cock.

His hips moved fast, and before you knew it the sour taste of cum filled your mouth.

Swallowing, you looked him in the yes, moving to sit in his lap. But Jace acted faster, turning you around and bending you over the table.

He was completely naked now also.

You could feel his chiselled chest against you back as he entered you.

Bounding hard and fast, as you desperately gripped to the table.

His cock filled you in the most pleasurable of ways, hitting that one sweet spot again and again.

Moans spilled out of your mouth as you peak hit you. It was quick and sudden, but it seemed so was Jace’s, as you soon felt his seed spilling it you.

he leant his head against your back as you both caught your breath.

Taking in the moment, as his seed spilled out of you and hit the floor.

You turned around to face him, taking in his dishevelled naked form.

“My prince- “you started, breath heavy.

“Was your vison true?” he questioned, interrupting you.

“As true as I can believe, my prince”.

“Jace, please, call me Jace”.

“Jace” you smiled, “I was sent here for a purpose, I am on your mother’s council for a purpose, and that is to ensure her bloodline, to ensure you sit on that iron throne after her”.

“Why? You came is so abruptly, and before I knew it my mother favoured your advice over my own- “

“Because I knew of the prophecy”.

“The prophecy?” he asked confused.

“The prince who was promised?” you asked, unsure of how he did not know, “the prince that was promised was prophesied five thousand years ago, it was said that he shall be Born amidst salt and smoke, beneath a bleeding star." You said, thinking his mother surely must have told him, “It is believed he shall be Azor Azhai, the lord of light reborn. Your ancestor Aegon the conquered dream to of him, it is believed he shall come from your bloodline.”

“This is why my mother trusts you? Because of a prophecy” he said, not believing you. “I had thought you a witch, enchanting us all”.

You laughed, “not quite my prince, though the lord of light blesses some with magic, he only blessed me with sight and this gem” you said, grasping the gem between your fingers.

“I’ve always wondered about that gem, what does it do?” he asked, reaching for it. You gently slapped his fingers out of the way.

“Only time shall tell you that”.

He smirked, “so you are a witch?” he laughed.

“No…” you trailed of your hand still gripping his.

“I must tell my mother!” he said dramatically, “first a priestess of R’hollor and now a witch! Whatever shall she think?” he said, teasingly.

And you shut him up with a kiss, your hand reaching down to his cock once more.

And soon his cock was filling you over and over again, all through the night.

Talks of prophecy and thrones long forgotten.

taglist

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @RAYNETARGARYEN2 @cloboboo @now-i-have-a-new-obsession @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @aegonswife @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark

to be added to taglist

#hotd #house of the dragon #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys x reader #jacerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys strong x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacerys targaryen #red priestess #lord of light #azor ahai #jace velaryon #sacha writes ✍️

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flowerandblood · 6 months ago

Text

White Marriage (2)

[ Kingdom of Heaven • King Baldwin x female ]

[ warnings: fingering, virginity loss, sex content, poetic smut, angst, a detailed description of the deadly disease and the unpleasant symptoms associated with it ]

[ description: After their nuptials, the court becomes even more divided. The King, however, wishes to spend the last years of his life experiencing the joys he finds in the closeness of his wife. His bride was never to lose her maidenhood, however, is what the King has proclaimed to his subjects what he really craves? ]

Author’s Note: After the warm reception of the first part, which I didn't expect at all, here is the second part of their story! I have to admit that I had a great time writing it and I love them. I tried to leave some realism and not forget about his illness and the fact that it is contagious.

Part Two of Paradise Fruit. Can be read as a standalone story.

Word count: 4.600

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Their nuptials were humble – apart from the Archbishop, who gave them his blessing, uniting them for eternity, they were accompanied only by Sibylla and her husband, enraged, thinking that the King was just fulfilling his sneaky plan.

He truly believed that he would have exposed her to such danger, condemning her to the cruel disease that tormented his members to try to beget an heir.

She was grateful to her Princess for lending her one of her beautiful, gold-embellished robes that day – Sibylla knew what purpose this marriage was intended to serve and that it would not change the order of succession.

She was to be his comfort, a moment of relief and solace, nothing more.

Nevertheless, she smiled, feeling happiness filling her heart, her king's gaze tender and full of affection, from which she felt warmth in her chest.

She thought that she had fallen in love with him.

Their marriage was announced to all and sundry, and she became a king's wife, but not a queen.

She was not bothered by this.

She was assigned a chamber right next to his – she could now visit him whenever she wished and did not have to worry about the King's honour.

As she walked into his quarters, clad only in a thin night robe, a smile of happiness adorned her face. Baldwin, though tired, also seemed pleased and rose at the sight of her.

"Wife." He said, entwining his hands behind his back.

His figure was all clad in white as usual, though the material of his wardrobe seemed thicker to her, a silver mask on his face.

To her surprise she noticed that his gloves were black, apparently made of leather.

She bowed to him, recognising that she was not intending to think about it now.

"My King. My husband. You are the man of your word." She whispered warmly, looking up at him from above her long lashes, feeling a pleasant tickle in her lower abdomen meeting his gaze, hot and dark.

"I am." He replied. "I couldn't deny myself this pleasure. It was an act of my selfishness, not my greatness."

She blinked, cocking her head, feeling for some reason amused by his words.

"Does it matter now?" She asked lightly – something flashed across his gaze, she thought he smiled.

"No. Not in the slightest."

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his orders – he had announced that because of his disease he would not take her maidenhood and their marriage would be white, however, after what had gone on between them earlier, she did not think her husband would want to remain an ascetic in every aspect.

"Let me see you." He said finally, his voice like a sigh.

She knew what he meant, she knew what he wanted – she could see it in his gaze. Her hands rose to the small knot above her breasts, untying it, slipping the thin material of her nightgown off her shoulders in a light, gentle motion, remaining bare before him.

She shuddered, feeling the chill of the chamber surround her body despite the flames burning in the fireplace beside her, her lips parted as she noticed her king's gaze shift, misty and filled with a familiar, hot desire.

For a moment he looked at her with his head tilted, as if he was simply admiring her, nothing more.

"My physicians have said that the leather material, as opposed to linen, will ensure that you are protected from the touch of my bare skin and what it may cause." He said, tentatively extending his hand to her, and she felt her heart thump harder in her chest with joy.

She could touch him.

They both drew in a loud breath as she placed her fingers on his palm, letting him pull her a little closer, the spot between her thighs all swollen with desire, slowly growing moist with her wetness.

Her lips parted with her gasp of surprise as his other hand touched her cheek – she snuggled her face into it, placing affectionate kisses of her lips on it.

"I would give all the treasures of this chamber, my possessions and my gold coins to feel the taste of your lips on mine." He gasped, looking at her as if she were a precious jewel, a spring water that quenches thirst, an olive tree that feeds whole nations.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the sizzling fire and their hitched breaths as his thumb ran over her full, lower lip. She parted it before him and let him slide it deeper, between her teeth. Her lips clamped slowly around his finger, looking up at him with desire as she began to suck.

A low groan escaped his throat at the sight, clearly imagining that he was forcing something completely different down her throat.

He placed his other hand on her back, at the same time pulling her closer and holding her at arm's length, apparently afraid that even his breath was dangerous to her, possibly dooming her to his fate.

She moaned when he gave in, when his mask pressed against her forehead, his eyelids all red around his bright pupils.

"– forgive me –"

She didn't know why his words, filled with so much sadness and desire, made her throw her hands on his shoulders, her lips clinging greedily to the unpleasantly cold, silver structure of his mask.

She closed her eyes, hearing his gasp of surprise, placing lingering, hot kisses full of her saliva and tongue on the surface of it, imagining he was able to feel it, his hands sinking into her hair.

"– touch me, husband – I crave you –" She mewled helplessly, running her hands over the material beneath which was his head, his hair, his jaw and neck.

She squealed when he lifted her suddenly by her buttocks, the quiet hiss that escaped his lips made her understand that this sudden movement must have caused him pain.

She stroked the back of his head as he moved towards his bed with his face nestled between her breasts, not wanting to show him any sympathy now that he wanted to be a strong man in her eyes.

He let out a breath as he laid her down on the soft sheets, his gaze full of tenderness as he looked at her face.

"– lie on your stomach and spread your thighs –" He said calmly and gently, however, something in his words and their undertone made her feel a heat in her lower abdomen and a wonderful tickling sensation.

She obeyed his command immediately, feeling her legs become stiff as he caught her around the waist and lifted her hips, forcing her to buck her buttocks in front of him in a shameless manner.

She heard his heavy breath as he positioned himself behind her on his knees, running his leather-gloved hands over the soft skin of her buttocks, herself panting hard, knowing where he was looking now.

"– the reason why Paris abducted Helen of Troy – the cause of the downfall and delight of all mankind locked deep between my wife's thighs –" He whispered in such a sensual way that she moaned pathetically, clenching her eyelids as his thumb ran over her leaking, throbbing womanhood.

Apparently he liked the sound she made, because one of his hands slid into her hair, holding her in place, reassuring him that she wouldn't take advantage of his weakness and try to expose him in an act of pleasure, endangering him and herself.

"– lie still – shhhh, my love –" He whispered, hearing her innocent cry of desperation as his fingers began to trail around her oversensitive, swollen bud, waves of tingling and tickling sensations spreading through her body dulling her mind, causing her to emit uncontrollable sounds.

She could hear him panting as she watched what he was doing to her, his fingers digging into her delicate folds with a loud click of her wetness, barely teasing her – her hips began to roll back and forth, responding to his treatments, trying to find a better source of rubbing.

"– have mercy on me –" She mumbled with difficulty, her lips parted wide in a girlish moan when, at her request, the tip of his middle finger burst into her fleshy, hot interior.

The experience was at once full of discomfort and delight – at first the material of his glove was cold, but in time her body temperature enveloped him with its heat.

"– God – so warm –" He whispered in a voice trembling with emotion, in some involuntary, primitive reflex forcing her to take his finger deeper inside her, meeting resistance.

"– yes or no –" He breathed out, making her gasp.

Yes or no.

She froze, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, knowing that he had lied: he had only declared their marriage as white so that after his death his sister's husband would not attempt to kill her out of fear that she might be carrying his heir.

The future King.

"– yes –"

Her fingers clenched on the fabric of the sheet beneath her as he pierced something inside her in one aggressive motion, along with her squeal taking her maidenhood.

She began to wriggle under him with sweet whimpers of delight as his first finger was joined by a second, opening her wide for him only to fuck her before his eyes.

Tears of pleasure and shock ran down her cheeks as she moaned like a mere whore, spreading her thighs wider, his fingers thicker and longer than hers, stretching her so wonderfully.

"– please –" She whimpered, responding with her hips to each thrust of his hand, the tips of his fingers hitting the sweet spot deep inside her with startling precision again and again, while his thumb teased her little pearl between her folds with reluctance.

She bucked up more, panting loudly along with him, feeling the drops of her own wetness begin to run down her thighs one by one, soaking his hand, the fingers of his free palm clenched in her hair.

"– go on – please your King –" He commanded in a low voice from which her weeping cunt clenched around his fingers in convulsions of ecstasy, the sweet, stupefying pleasure making her cry out loudly, her legs bent at the knees quivering all over from the exertion.

"– a-ah –" She mumbled out, her face red with emotion as her body shook with a fulfilment so strong that her leaking, hot walls began to simply suck him inside. He felt it and moaned in a boyish manner, stopping moving, keeping his two fingers slipped deep into her body, just wanting to feel how it pulsed around them.

"– yes – just like that – easy now – easy –" He praised her, slowly sliding them out of her, and she swallowed hard, letting her body fall back onto the bed, panting loudly.

She sighed as he turned her onto her back and spread her thighs, looking at her with eyes black with desire, his hand slipped under the material of his robe.

Only then did she notice that his garment had a slit in the area underneath where his manhood was.

Although he had not allowed her to look at it then, now that he had grasped it in his hand and directed it at her throbbing womanhood, she saw the fat, pink head of it, dripping with his desire.

His hand clamped down on her soft breast, careful, however, not to cause her pain as he began to squeeze his swollen erection in his palm, with sharp, aggressive strokes from the very base to the tip chasing his fulfilment.

She moaned innocently, surprised, tilting her head back as his thumb ran over her hard, sensitive nipple, playing with it, something like satisfaction flashed through his gaze when he saw that this kind of touch was giving her pleasure.

"– my wife is so eager – so devoted to her poor husband – hm? –" He gasped, his breathing heavy as he accelerated, already squeezing only the base of his manhood, rocking his hips back and forth, struggling to restrain himself from opening her up, from sinking into her, from feeling her.

She rolled her hips forward encouragingly, rubbing her moist cunt against the thick head of his erection, drawing a low, almost animalistic groan from his throat, his silhouette moving slightly away.

"– no –" He growled with pain and anger, involuntarily returning again and again to her warmth, letting the tip of it push against her swollen, thirsty slit.

"– please, my King – put inside me –" She begged, but he shook his head and simply came with a loud moan of pleasure, his pearly, sticky spend spewing onto her womanhood.

He stared at this shameless sight, his head bowed low, his breath heavy as if he had just accomplished some heroic feat.

"– you need to bathe in hot water – immediately – dress yourself, I'll call the servants –" He exclaimed, rising abruptly from the bed, covering his manhood back with his robe, wiping his hand sticky with her wetness into its material.

She stood up quickly, horrified that he was surely angry with her for not listening to him, hastily dressing her nightgown over her shoulders, bursting into sobs.

"– forgive me, my King – forgive me, do not send me away –" She begged, but he did not listen to her, ordering his servant to immediately bring the tub into his chamber and fill it with hot water.

Although it slightly burned her skin when she stepped inside, her husband-king explained that the heat killed whatever was spreading his disease, and the oils and herbs that were thrown in were to prevent any other infections.

She looked at him with big eyes as he sat beside her, dipping his leather-gloved hand into the water along with a piece of cloth, sinking it then between her thighs, making sure not a single drop of his seed remained on it.

"– will you forgive me, my beloved? –" She muttered pleadingly, watching his face. He looked at her with a chastising look and sighed heavily.

"– it is I who should beg your forgiveness – I have allowed myself to be carried away by my desires, which have suppressed my reason – do not fear, it will not happen again – after your bath you will return to your chamber and will no longer visit me in the evenings –" He said calmly, looking away.

Her heart stopped in her throat, her brow arching in pain and disbelief at his words.

"Are you sending me away?" She muttered with difficulty. He looked at her, surprised apparently by her question and reaction, his hand froze in mid-motion.

"You can't sleep here because I am here. My breath, my proximity are deadly. I am exposing you even now. Before sleep, my physicians pull off most of the fabric that covers my body. I will never let you see this." He said and swallowed hard, seeing as tears one by one began to run down her cheeks.

"You break my heart. At least let my bed be placed next to yours. Drape it with curtains so that I may not see you or your body at night, but that I may at least hear your voice, hear your presence in the same chamber." She said pleadingly, touching his beautiful silver mask with her hand, his gaze tired and sad, filled with pain.

He hesitated.

"The chamber is not locked. Place my bed by the windows, by the fresh air. Do not condemn me to solitude, show me mercy, my King." She whispered, once again placing a kiss on his mask, on his cold, silver lips, his sigh testifying that he pressed his lips on the other side, reciprocating her caress.

"You are my doom."

At his command, her bed was moved to his chamber, raising voices full of resentment from some of the monks and priests, commenting on the fact that her maidenhood might be called into question.

"White marriage, to my knowledge, does not mean that husband and wife live separately. On the contrary, we should indulge in prayers together and be each other's comfort by day and night."

Honour Knights and Lords were concerned about what kind of comfort his little wife was to him.

Each day, the physicians sent by King Saladin checked the condition of her body and whether there were any signs of infection – her husband watched it from the sidelines in horror, relief in his gaze each time he heard from their lips that his wife was in good health.

However, taking advantage of the fact that the King had left the chamber after her examination, returning to his duties, one of his medics approached her, pale.

"My Lady. Spending so much time in the King's company, you will certainly contract his disease. Often its first symptoms do not appear until years after infection. It is possible that it is already too late." He muttered, bowing before her.

She swallowed loudly, looking at him calmly, feeling discomfort in her stomach.

"Would my husband live to see the time when the first symptoms could be apparent? If it turned out I was infected." She mumbled, and he shook his head.

"No, my Lady."

She smiled at his words and nodded.

"Thank you. Assure my King that I am well and can abide with him as before."

The man looked at her, in his eyes disbelief but at the same time a kind of admiration, compassion and warmth from which she felt a squeeze in her throat.

"My Lady."

The days in Jerusalem were often sunny and hot, and as her husband rejoiced at the sight of her bare body, she walked around his chambers naked, feeling like a Greek goddess, Aphrodite or Artemis.

She would read old volumes, play the lute or embroider while spreading out comfortably on large cushions so that he could see her, and he would admire her from afar like a nymph.

"– my wife is like a fruit of paradise – like a goddess born of the sea foam –" He murmured, looking at her contentedly, bent over the dozens of parchments spread out on his table.

The servants knew that they could not enter his quarters without permission, for although he was gentle and affectionate in his manner, he did not wish to share this shameless sight with anyone.

However, what most of their days consisted of were conversations.

Her husband was a great speaker – they were discussing the Bible, faith, philosophy, poetry, art, war and history for long hours.

At nights, when he couldn't sleep from his pain, hearing his sighs and quiet moans that he tried to suppress for her sake, she would ask him questions.

She couldn't touch his hands or embrace him – his body needed rest, to breathe to keep from rotting and for at least a few hours a day it was supposed to be uncovered.

"Christ says to the adulteress: go and sin no more. However, he knows, as God incarnate, that this is not his command, but a recommendation. Sin is the fatal disease of every human being and we all sin in thought, in speech, in deed, in neglect. This is no reason to be sad. Christ is merely saying: live in such a way as not to cause yourself or others suffering, try to live with dignity, in harmony with yourself and your Father in Heaven."

"Is it known what happened to her afterwards?" She asked quietly, looking at his silhouette, seeing only its outline on the other side of his bed.

"Some identify her with Mary Magdalene or Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus. But it could also have been a person not mentioned by name in the Gospel. She certainly followed Christ and became one of his disciples." He said, his voice clearer without his mask, calm and soft.

"Do you think God considers me an adulteress?" She asked in a trembling voice and heard him shift restlessly in his bed.

"Why should such an unjust and harsh judgment fall on my wife? Because she is devoted to me with her soul, heart and body? Haven't you done everything I asked of you and even more? You are as pure as the sheet I lie on, as the delicate fabrics I wear on my skin. Your beauty makes me even more aware of my ugliness." He whispered with pain that made her swallow hard, shocked by his words.

"To me, you are the most beautiful of men. Before I met you, I swore to God that I would never marry, that I would not share Sibylla's fate. He showed me mercy, filling my heart with a burning feeling for you, my beloved."

He was silent, but she heard him exhale loudly, his trembling sigh full of suffering.

He cried.

"If only you could look at my face, see what a disgusting caricature of a human I am, you would understand what a great mistake you made." He howled, choking on his own tears, clearly letting out what had been weighing on his heart for weeks.

The fear that if she accidentally saw his face, she would scream in terror and run away.

"Is your faith in me so weak? I hoped you think of me with respect." She mumbled, heartbroken, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

She heard him swallow hard at her words, clearly terrified that he had offended her.

"I do, my love. Forgive me."

"I fell in love with a human, not an earthly shell." She said, but he didn't answer her.

She watched the silhouette of her husband and his physicians each evening through the curtains, seeing them only as through a fog in the candlelight, their shadows dancing around her.

She could hear his hisses and cries of pain as they treated his wounds, see the outline of his head, always with his back turned to her.

When they were finally left alone and he lay down on his bed, she heard his sigh of relief, his face, though she couldn't see it, turned towards her.

"My sweetest?" He whispered, and she smiled warmly, feeling a wonderful delight in her heart every time he called her that.

"I'm here, my love." She murmured, twisting comfortably in her bed.

"I desire you."

She swallowed hard, feeling her warm womanhood throb around nothing.

"I desire you too, my beloved."

They were both silent for a long moment, the tension around them palpable in the air.

"– one of my physicians –" He began in a trembling voice. "– at my request, he created something that I can – put on my length so as not to touch you directly – from what I understand, he made it from the intestine of some animal and disinfected it – he assured me that it would be safe for both of us, but –"

"– yes –" She muttered, feeling her heart begin to pound like crazy at the thought that he wanted to do this to her.

"– you know it's a risk –" He said, his voice quivering with longing, the shadow of his silhouette turned towards her.

"– I knew it from the very beginning – I don't care what happens to my body – I just want to feel my beloved husband inside me –" She whispered with embarrassment and that seemed to be enough for him.

She heard him stand up, quickly putting the cloth and mask over his head as he appeared on the other side, beside her bed, looking as he usually did – the same black leather gloves on his hands, his fingers clenched on a small wooden box.

"– undress –" He commanded, and she did so, literally ripping off herself her nightgown, laying down on her stomach.

His silhouette was instantly next her, kneeling behind her buttocks, his breath hitched and quickened when she heard the rustling of something and another strange, sticky sound.

After a moment, his fingers tentatively and gently ran over her swollen, pink folds, collecting her wetness, which had already managed to trickle down her thigh.

"– no other treatments are needed – my sweet wife is leaking like a forest stream –" He hummed with delight and admiration, she felt her cheeks blush with embarrassment.

They both sighed as she felt something thick and hard begin to push against her puffy slit, opening her wide – despite her lack of preparation her cunt pulsed in delight, moist with desire.

The feeling of him deep inside her, so intense and definitive, of how hard his long, thick erection stretched her fleshy walls was shockingly pleasurable and terrifying at the same time, as if her body no longer belonged to her.

"– yes, yes, yes –" She mewled as she felt his hands clamp down on her buttocks, spreading them apart as if he were tearing a piece of fruit, another determined thrust of his hips sinking him completely into her hot core with their moans of pleasure.

"– fuck –"

She wasn't sure if he had ever cursed before, but then, as his hips immediately began to pound into her with loud slaps, nothing more than their panting, grunts and words insulting to God left his mouth.

"– we'll do it frequently – so that you can remember this feeling well – your husband deep inside your warmth –" He exhaled in a way from which her little cunt began to squeeze him greedily, sucking his erection inside, her lips parted wide in a loud, helpless whines of pleasure so strong that she had to close her eyes, her hands clenched on the bedding.

His gloved fingers dug into the delicate structure of her hips, imposing a more aggressive pace on her, his fat manhood bursting deep between her fleshy walls without slipping out of her, hitting again and again her sweet little spot.

"– yes – yes, I love you, I love you, I love you, please –" She cried out, feeling the tension in her silky womanhood reach its zenith, the pleasant tingling in her belly testifying to the fact that she was about to reach her peak with him and dreamed of nothing else.

He moaned low, slamming into her like mad, feeling her weeping core clench around his twitching length more and more, his manhood hard as a rock with desire.

"– G-God – oh, fuck, yes, yes, my sweetest, let me, ah –" He gasped in delight, coming deep inside her, filling the thin material overlying his manhood with his release.

Her eyes closed and her mouth parted wide as her peak came down on her like a thunderbolt, shaking her body with convulsions of delicious delight.

They both moaned and panted, rocking their hips for a moment more with the loud click of her slick cunt, his hands soothingly kneading the skin of her buttocks.

"– I will order more of this to be prepared – so that I can fulfil my marital duty every night –" He sighed with satisfaction.

She involuntarily smiled under her breath, looking up at him over her shoulder, the moonlight shining outside the window reflected in his mask.

"– what kind of white marriage is this? –" She asked teasingly, rolling her hips, feeling his half-soft manhood pulsate inside her again.

"– our kind – do not fret – I will explain it to God once I am before him – I will tell him that I loved my wife too much –"

_____

Author's note: Between their wedding day and this next act, weeks actually pass during which he doesn't touch her (she mentions the days spent in his company and how she is examined every day, how he watches her naked, but apart from that nothing happens between them). He is afraid that if he tries to touch her again, he won't hold back (he had already had difficulty not taking her on their wedding night), so he tried to think of something so as not to touch her directly with his manhood. Their intimacy is an act of their desperation, the pain of knowing that their marriage will last a year or two at most. The desire to touch her and feel her is as strong in him as the desire to protect her and push her away. Their love is tragic and complete to me, and she knows what she is risking (she knew from the very beginning).

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