The Royal Scepter_A Royal Baby Romance Page 6

“Don’t you?” I huff, so taken by all the delicious emotions on her face. “I want you to say it. Say it as loud as you fucking can, tell me what you want,” I instruct her. Within a second her mouth gapes open and a storm of cries erupt from her throat, so loud I expect all the windows to shatter. Her body pumps against mine so hard that the rhythm rocks the banquet table; it sounds like it’s going to break right underneath us.

  “Fuck, Estefan, please, PLEASE,” she howls, howling and howling for me until her voice starts to feel parched and hoarse. I quench her thirst with my lips, moaning into her mouth while we scream for each other as my cock finally pushes deep inside of her, splitting those sweet pink lips apart with force, stretching her tiny young body wide with my cock until the hardened tip pushes against her insides and I can feel her shudder with wave after wave of immense, tingling, explosive pleasure. She arches against my strong chest and I pump into her again, and again, slow and powerful thrusts that jolt the table beneath us, the legs scooting along the floor with the pulsing power of my pistoning hips filling her full and hard and wide every single time, my free hand working her clit as she reaches faster and faster towards her erupting climax.

  “I’m going to fucking cum and fill you with my seed,” I snarl into her ear, the heat of us making me sweat harder and harder.

  “Please, do it, fill me,” she begs, breathless, her words only fragments of sound. I thrust and thrust and feel myself spasming and throbbing inside that soaked slit between her legs. Her moans get louder and louder and my grunts and thrusts get heavier and my body can’t take it anymore.

  “F—FUCK!” I exclaim, pushing every inch inside of her and grabbing her tight body in my arms as we climax together, the banquet table creaking hard, my cock exploding and filling her with messy rope after rope after rope of my release. My seed spills hard and deep until there’s so much inside of her sweet cunt that it seeps from inside of her, making a delicious mess of the both of us, as our moans and cries ring through every hall in the castle.

  As our climax passes, we’re reduced to quivering and breathy messes; I rain kisses along her chin and to her lips, her eyes glassy as the sensations pass like lightning through her nerves. My legs feel like rubber; I can barely stand after I finish sizzling inside of my filthy princess. Her fingers squirm, wanting free; I grab her by the bonds, pulling her seated in front of me, sweat on my brow as I lean in to kiss her - and to warn her.

  “You want out… do you?…” I tease.

  “I want to touch every inch of you, my fucking irresistible prince,” she mewls.

  “I’m not done with you yet,” I threaten, my words shaking, as I pick her up, throw her over my shoulder and haul her towards the door.

  Erica

  My eyes blink open. A musty morning light filters through a glamorous stained-glass window. Satin embroidered sheets lay warm across my chest, my body nude, stripped of the expensive onyx-ruby gown that clung to my curves last evening. A canopy hangs over my head, draped in gold, gossamer curtains studded with expensive diamond and sapphires hung along every side - except the headboard, an ornate sculpture crafted from pure gold. A sea of overstuffed pillows lay beneath my head.

  And at my side is a dream - my prince, the dirtiest and most gorgeous guy in the entirety of Velune. This still has to be part of the dream, right? His arm slung across my body, protecting and strong, his tough, cut muscles and dark, messy hair slowly rise and fall with the sound of his sleepy breaths. Last night feels like a blur. In the dining room, with my hands tied up… in his bed, blindfolded. So many times I can’t even count them, before we both passed out together on the bed. Every one felt more intense than the last.

  I squirm under his hold and suddenly he grasps my waist, squeezing it; I look to him again and see his eyes have opened, a devious smirk on his hungry lips.

  “I didn’t know you were awake,” I whisper, naked body quivering beneath plush, comfortable sheets.

  “I wasn’t,” he slickly whispers, crawling across the bed to bite at my neck; it stings, and I take in a deep breath, but god now the pleasure rushes through every sense as the bite reminds me of everything that happened last night. He tongues the wound, soothing it - the mark he’s left on me to prove I’m his.

  And I don’t care. I wear it proudly. I want to be his princess. It’s too bad… I’m not a princess.

  “Did I wake you?” I murmur with faint concern.

  “Yes,” he rumbles in dark pleasure. “I’m glad you did. I wasn’t going to let you just run off without tasting you again.”

  “You think I was going to run off?” I ask with a frown.

  “No,” he purrs, “but pretending you were going to, gives me justification for doing this.” He leans in, arms wrapped around me, picking me up and pushing me to the middle of the bed. Wrapping the sheets around my wrists, he binds me to the headboard of the bed, leaving me tangled and helpless again while he kisses every inch of my wanting, quivering frame. He spreads my legs apart, tearing a pillowcase from two of the pillows and using them to bind my ankles to the frame of the canopy. I lay naked, spread wide, shaking, blushing; an exhausted mess from our sleepless night, but still quaking in urging, hungry pain for more of him. I want to be his captive, dirty, hungry little princess forever. That’s when I realize and say it.

  “E-Estefan,” I whimper, my body blushing bright, squirming with what little of my body I can move, my breasts heaving with the weight of my breaths.

  “Princess Erica,” he answers, reaching down on my tied, tight body, kissing my neck and up to my lips, until we watch one another slow and wanting.

  “I love you,” I whisper, shame bright on my cheeks. Could he possibly even feel the same about a girl like me? He watches me closely, silent, only the sound of our breath heavy and hot in our ears. He responds not with words, but a powerful and all-consuming kiss, pressing his lips to mine and devouring my desire so deeply that my eyelids flutter shut and I reach out against my bonds, wanting to hold and press him close and know what it is again to have him against me. When the kiss ends, he lingers at my lips, pecking me a thousand times, quiet and adoring, the two of us so intoxicated in one another.

  “I love you, too,” he admits, letting his kisses trail down my neck and along my full, heaving chest.

  “R… really?…” I whimper.

  “Of course I do,” he exhales, confusion racking his expression. “Do you think I want to make just any princess my fertile, dirty and submissive little kitten? You hurt my feelings,” he frowns playfully. “Do you think I want just any pretty face, big-titted bimbo to carry my royal heir, Princess Erica?”

  “I don’t know,” I chew on my bottom lip. “You’re rich, you’re powerful, you’re so fucking gorgeous, Prince Estefan… I have to wonder,” I admit. He stills the protesting beat of my worried heart with another kiss, a hot and messy trail of wet kisses and bites leading back down to my breasts, where he suckles hard on my right nipple, my back arching out against his lips as he lets my sensitive skin go with a loud, satisfying ‘pop’ of his mouth.

  “None of those other princesses could ever get me feeling so fucking hot the way you do, Erica,” he confesses in a throaty purr. “Not…” he kisses laboriously along my nipple. “…even…” his kisses go lower; my legs shake as I feel his lips cresting along my hips. “…close.”

  “E-Estefan,” I shudder, my hips pressing out when I feel his tongue twirling skillfully down from my bellybutton to my sweltering, blushing mound, his tongue taunting my swollen clit with little flicks of pleasure. His lips feel so gentle on my hot pussy lips, his breaths making me quiver from fingers to toes. He lifts his head from my sensitive petals and all the sensations wash away and my body tugs, squeezes, screams to be free from the bonds so I can grab his head and pull him back to taste my sizzling-hot slit. Instead, he smirks up at me, tormenting me again, leaving my body so utterly deprived of him.

  “What did I teach my princess-kitten about behaving?…” he taunts me with an evil gri
n.

  “I don’t want to be quiet,” I protest, arching out against him.

  “Oh, you don’t?…” he hums darkly. The next thing I know his lips are between my legs again, his tongue teasing along the inside of my thigh, so agonizingly slow, that I start to let out little moans; I can’t even control my body when he’s here, when he’s doing things to me. His tongue dances up one side of my cunt, and then down the other, and I quiver, calling out quietly to him; finally, the tip of his tongue slips between my drenched lips and curls along my g-spot and I start to breathe harder and harder until I can barely even breathe anymore, it feels so good.

  Then, he stops. He stops, again! I cry out, whining, my body on fire when he denies me. My eyes strained with passion, I barely catch sight of him, my lungs rising and falling, bouncing my full breasts softly each time I gasp.

  “Pl-please,” I beg.

  “You said you didn’t want to behave,” he quips flippantly. “Maybe instead—”

  Bang bang bang! My eyes snap to the door when I hear a fist pounding on it.

  “Prince Estefan! I brought the chilled champagne you request—”

  “Yes, yes, fine! Leave it at the door!” he calls back to his attendant. I smirk.

  “So you were awake, weren’t you? You liar,” I snark, pressing my hips out at him. “That’s not nice. Now you owe me.”

  “I owe you, do I?” he quips. And like an animal he pounces atop my body before I can even process what’s happened; his kisses burn my skin and his hands ravage every sensitive part of me, squeezing my nipples and fingering my clit and massaging my thighs. I feel his hardened cock press against my folds, and I gasp, my eyes wide with explosive, absolute fucking want.

  “G-god, Es… tefan,” I tremble.

  “Now how much do I owe you?” he asks, before crawling back off the bed and rushing to the door. He returns with a small metal bucket full of ice, two glasses, and a frosty, greenish bottle. “99-year Aurelian… I’m sure not your first bottle, being from Tyrel,” he smirks. “Not the first for me, either… but I’m sure with you behind it… it will be the best.”

  “With wh—” I can’t speak before he pops the cork off the bottle with a loud boom, foam flowing out across the glass. He pours a stream across my chest, soaking me with that sweet-alcohol smell, little rivers of champagne falling across my quivering, curves. The frosted liquid immediately sends a powerful chill along my spine, rattling my brain; I moan his name, and with my eyes closed, I feel his lips slurping every bit of the alcohol from my body, his tongue twirling intense pleasure across my skin while he swallows it all. The chill is so intense and rattling, but god it feels so good to have him feasting on all of my curves with his lips and his tongue.

  “Let’s see what else I can get my slutty kitten to enjoy…” he ponders, tapping his chin deviously. From the bucket he retrieves an ice cube, a deliciously lewd expression on his face. I’ve never felt things like his before; nobody, no commoner or merchant, not even that asshole the Duke of Palazza, could ever do to my body the things that Estefan has, or showed me how much I love being denied; how much I love being a submissive, dirty little princess.

  “E-Estefan, it feels… it feels like nothing I’ve felt before. N-not just the dirty part,” I admit, blushing. “I really love you.”

  “Good,” he quips, leaning down to kiss me deep. “I love you too… I need you.” I feel another startling, cold sensation shoot up my back; I groan, my back arching, when I feel him teasingly run the ice cube along my shaking body. He leaves a soaking-wet trail up my stomach, breathing across the trail, making it sting with a chill that torments my every nerve, but feels so fucking good. The ice cube twirls around my nipple, and I suck in a breath, my mind overwhelmed by all these new, powerful feelings. I try to pull my legs together to keep the excitement inside, but I can’t; I try to squeeze at the sheets, at his shoulders, at anything, but my hands dangle helplessly from my bonds, and I just have to suffer so fucking deliciously, stewing in my ocean of absolute ecstasy.

  Once he’s painted my chest with the freeze of the ice cube he tosses it away and stands over me, grinning as he watches my body twist in the cool breeze coming through his royal bedchamber window. He watches me quiver, and toss, and struggle, my fingers shaking as I try to reach out to him. It hurts to be so far, but that just means that when he finally pumps me full of his cock and pounds my pussy hard it feels ten thousand times hotter.

  “I should leave you here, tied up, tortured,” he growls, his fingers slowly fondling my soaked, chilly skin. “Maybe take you as my pet… tie you to the bed so you’re here, for good, ready to fuck the prince of Velune every time he returns, like the fuck-hungry kitten you really are inside… how does that sound to you?” he taunts.

  “I’d do anything to feel the way you make me feel, every day, please, my prince,” I mewl weakly, my muscles aching with how badly I want him.

  “You’d even bear my royal heir?” he asks.

  “I want to, I need to, your majesty,” I quake. “I want you to fuck me and breed me until you’ve filled me a thousand times with your hot cum, and I’ve borne you the perfect child you’ve always wanted, please,” I beg. His eyes light up when he hears me admit how badly I want him and his heir and he pounces me, my body hot and restrained, his perfect fuck-toy. From neck to lips to my forehead he showers me in kisses as his cock presses against my thigh, throbbing; I press my hips out against him, letting his hot and trembling shaft roll against the inside of my legs. His breath is ravenous on my skin and when he grasps his shaft and pushes it into my slit, nestling the tip of his dick inside of me, I clench hard and please him with every muscle in my shivering body. I lay there, prostrate, my dominant prince’s pet, huffing and huffing louder and louder as he teases my folds with his tip.

  “Fuck me,” I plead, “I’d do anything for you to fuck me and cum inside of my young pussy over and over again.”

  “I’ll give you my messy load, if you’re going to behave,” he purrs into my ear, biting along my jawline. I’m so overwhelmed by everything he gives me I can’t help but blurt out my darkest, hottest fantasies.

  “I’d be your fucking slave, and you could be my master, and use and abuse my body every fucking day until I can barely stand, if it means I get to feel like this, because I’m so addicted to my prince,” I mewl. I didn’t even know I had it in me to say something so absolutely dirty, and to offer myself like that to him, but god, hearing myself croon out in passion to him… I mean every single word.

  “Fuck,” he huffs, thrusting harder and harder now, letting his full, hot and hard girth fill me repeatedly, stretching me wide. It hurt a little, at first, taking all those rock-solid inches inside of me, but now it feels like mind-blowing heaven. I can’t do anything to stop him, restrained and held in place to be his perfect, plush princess - and I don’t want to, from all the moans my body lets out.

  “O-oh! God!” I exclaim, feeling my orgasm come on like a sudden and explosive tidal-wave rush; the sensation shoots down every nerve, fast as a flash, filling my stomach with that warm, consuming tingle as my brain shudders and tries to understand just how someone is making me feel so amazing, like I never have before. My cunt tightens around his cock and he heaves hunger against my neck, his cock exploding along with me, our voices the perfect lewd symphony as he spills his delectable, sweltering seed deep inside of me, wave after wave crashing inside of my folds, his seed dripping from inside of me as he pulls his used, messy cock out of me.

  He falls to his side next to me, kissing my neck; laying his arm across my stomach, holding my used little body close. My breaths run wild and steamy, slowly quivering to a steady rhythm.

  “I love you,” he repeats, over and over, into my ear.

  “Are you going to… let me out of these bonds?…” I ask, wriggling my fingers at him. He smirks.

  “What? Willing to give up on your promise so soon?” he teases. I smile back.

  “Not on your life, your majesty.”<
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  Estefan

  “Do I have any more meetings today, Conrad?” I ask my plump and balding associate, an employee of that asshole Vizier Ducat, lounging with a yawn in the reception for the treasury of Velune. My dad has gotten sicker, which means the meetings have gotten longer for me. All I can do in each of them is zone out and think about Princess Erica, and all the dirty promises we’ve made each other.

  “Yes, you have one more today,” he announces, looking over a long list.

  “Well, who is it with?” The day has worn on long. I haven’t seen Erica since yesterday morning. My body has rebelled against me, wanting to go find her in Tyrel and chain her to my bed so that she’ll be there every afternoon, every night. I want to give her everything - the royal riches, and the royal scepter.

  “It’s a meeting, with a… a princess, I believe,” Conrad bellows. “A miss… Cecilia? Princess Cecilia?” I groan in response. If it had been a week or two ago, perhaps a ‘meeting’ with Cecilia would’ve proved fruitful, and I would’ve looked forward to such a thing. Instead, now, the only thing on my entire mind, in my entire world, is Erica.

  “What does she want?” I ask Conrad with a grunt.

  “I’m not certain, sir, she wanted to discuss…” he glances across his list with his monocle to his eye. “…something about royal… debts, that Aluvon owes to Velune? I’m not aware of any such debts, your majesty.”

  “It’s a special debt,” I remark, disillusioned. I know what her discussions about ‘debts’ generally entail with me. I guess it’s my own fault.

  “Should I invite her in?” Conrad asks.

  “We’ll need a bit of privacy to discuss the matter, Conrad. Thank you, have her in,” I say with a sigh, reclining in my chair and thinking about what exactly I’m going to tell Cecilia.

  “Yes, your majesty,” Conrad nods, seeing himself out. My mind races. Erica. God, Erica. An irresistible woman I want to make my queen, and have my heirs; pump her full and hot and hard until she brings honor to the name of the Velune royal line again. The door creaks, drawing my attention away from my lewd reverie and the ledger I was pretending to look over, and to the doorframe, where Cecilia stands… in a lacy onyx-ruby gown, tiara on her swathe of wild hair, tapping her heel idly against the tiled floor.