***

“Hmm.”

Cyrene clasped her hands tightly. As always, the Crown Prince’s confidant stood a step behind him, whispering in his ear. Areos, leaning back lazily with his head resting on his hand, turned his gaze to her.

Is it about Ilion?

She swore she hadn’t done anything to upset him. She hadn’t touched Ilion, hadn’t exchanged more than a single word with him. All she had done was tell her name.

“Cyrene. Come here.”

His finger beckoned her, and she approached slowly. The confidant left the room quietly, leaving the two of them alone. Areos didn’t seem particularly displeased, and she found that to be a relief.

His long fingers glided down her cheek with deliberate slowness, tracing the curve of her delicate jawline. They drifted to her neck, slender enough to rest easily in his hand, which he encircled with a gentle grasp.

“Ah…”

A small, involuntary sound escaped her lips and she shivered. Her shoulders shook as she lost her balance. Areos quickly pulled her onto his lap, holding her as if he were cradling her. Nestled in his embrace, Cyrene looked up at him in silence, her gaze hesitant but steady.

“Well. Fine.”

A faint smile crossed the Crown Prince’s face. He slowly lowered his head and kissed her.

“Ah.”

When Cyrene cautiously extended her tongue to brush against his lips, a small chuckle escaped him. His hand shifted, gently stroking her head with an air of quiet approval, as if commending her efforts.

As she repeated the hesitant gesture, Areos parted his lips, turning the kiss into something all-consuming and intense. The sudden depth left her gasping for breath, her chest rising sharply as she gasped for air.

“Hmmm… ah…”

She reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him. She felt his hand pull at the laces of her dress. Areos leisurely explored the now exposed skin of her br*ast, his fingers trailing over the sensitive area before lightly caressing her hardened n*pple with his nail.

“Haah…”

A heated sigh escaped her lips. The sensation of the large, firm flesh pressing against her thigh was unbearably hot, its heat penetrating the many layers of fabric. Areo’s hand slipped under Cyrene’s dress, already finding the moist space between her legs.

“Looks like you’re getting aroused even without me touching you.”

“Ah…”

His fingers trailed along the slick slit, quickly becoming sticky with her w*tness. As he applied firm pressure to her sensitive inner walls, Cyrene’s body responded with an involuntary jolt.

“Haa… ah…”

Her body grew warm, a flush of heat spreading as anticipation coursed through her. Trembling, she reached out with shaking hands and carefully began to remove his clothes. Her fingers brushed across his chest, gliding down to his firm stomach before stopping at the waistband of his trousers. Slowly she traced the outline of his p*nis, its shape visible beneath the fabric.

Even from under her dress a wet, lewd sound could be heard. Blinking, Cyrene steadied herself by placing her hands on his chest. Areos reached out with his free hand and pressed firmly against her red lips, parting them slightly before he let out a soft laugh.

His hand gripped the hem of her dress and lifted it. Cyrene bit down on the fabric, silencing any sound as the lewd, crunching sounds from below filled the air. The hand on her hip drew her closer, slowly guiding her.

“Ahh…!”

Her legs spread instinctively. Even though she had become warm and supple, the sensation of receiving his thick p*nis was always startling, never quite familiar. No matter how many times it happened, it never seemed to fully register on her body. The blunt tip pressed against her twitching inner walls, stretching her to the limit before plunging deep inside all at once. She let out the breath she had been holding in, unable to stop herself.

“Haa… ah…”

His grip on her hips tightened, holding her still as Cyrene found herself straddling Areos. Slowly she began to move her hips, her movements tentative as she adjusted to the intense, overwhelming sensations.

Is the matter with Ilion being let go?

Relief washed over her at the thought. She didn’t want to see another tongue or hand cut off. Perhaps her silent plea to Areos had worked.

“What are you thinking about?”

Cyrene snapped back to reality and looked up at him, her gaze meeting his. There was a mixture of excitement and cold detachment in his golden eyes. A chilling warning echoed through her mind.

“This morning…”

She whispered desperately, trying to find an excuse, anything to distract him. Areos let out a soft, amused chuckle.

“Why? Do you want to suck another man’s c*ck?”

She shook her head violently. Her desperate reaction seemed to amuse him even more, and a slow, leisurely laugh escaped his lips.

“Cyrene, as long as I don’t get bored with you, that won’t happen.”

His words sounded magnanimous, as if granting her some great mercy. And when he gets bored? What then? Cyrene’s lips parted slightly, the unspoken question trembling on the edge of her tongue. She was too afraid to ask.

Instead, she clung tightly to his neck, holding onto him as if her life depended on it.

“Ah… hmm…”

The familiar sound of her moaning filled the room again, mingling with the air heavy with fear and pleasure.

* * *

“Ah, ah, uh… …!”

Sweat trickled down Cyrene’s back, her pale skin glistening in the morning sunlight as if it were melting. With every shudder that ran through her body, a warm, sticky liquid slid down between her thighs.

“Ha, uh, Your Highness, ugh, mm…!”

She spoke as if pleading, but Areos paid no attention. His hand slapped her round b*ttocks a little harder.

“Ah-ugh!”

Her blue eyes widened in surprise before closing tightly as she buried her face in the pillow. Strands of her dishevelled hair clung to her sweat-soaked face, her breath taken away by the overwhelming sensation of deep penetration.

Once again the sharp sting of a slap landed on her b*tt, causing her body to shake.

“Ah…!”

Her body jerked instinctively for a moment. The spot where she had been hit stung sharply, the pain lingering. As her whole body tensed in surprise, Areos let out a soft laugh.

“Lascivious body, isn’t it, Cyrene?”

Another sharp slap echoed through the room. Her inner walls tightened. She couldn’t tell if it was from being called lewd or from the sting of the slap on her hips.

“Ah…”

Cyrene’s entire body shook. Tears welled in her eyes as the repeated slaps on her hips sent shivers down her spine.

“Ah, ugh, Your Highness… ugh.”

She tried to lift her upper body, but the strength kept leaving her arms. Her legs trembled uncontrollably. Her body, on the verge of collapse, was held steady by the massive flesh that pierced her like a skewer.

“Ah… ugh, haah!”

Areos grabbed her slender arms and pulled her close to him. The relentless sensation of something plunging deep inside her made her vision go white. From the moment she had opened her eyes until now, she had lost count of how many times she had cl*maxed.

When her lips parted, a breath escaped, not even a proper moan. Cyrene gasped and twisted her body. The pleasure etched into her already hypersensitive body had become more pain than pleasure.

“Huh… ah…”

Tears streamed down her face. As her body went completely limp, Areos slapped her hips a few more times before shifting his position.

“Ahh… ngh… ah.”

There was a deep satisfaction on his face as he stared silently at her tear streaked face. Inside Cyrene, the tightly buried p*nis twitched, swelling even more.

“Ugh…”

She no longer had the strength to make a proper moan and a faint sound escaped her lips. A large hand stroked gently over her dishevelled face. As his fingertips slowly brushed over her lashes, her eyelids trembled slightly.

“Your Highness… I… haah… ugh…”

She wanted to plead for him to stop, but the words wouldn’t come. Her body, as limp as water-soaked cotton, moved helplessly under Areos’ control. Cyrene reached out to grab his arm, but her weak, trembling hands kept slipping away, unable to find their grip.

“Ha…”

Hot breath grazed her tear-stained cheeks, sending a shiver down her spine. As his wet tongue brushed against her skin, licking her cheek, her back arched involuntarily. The deep, final thrust signalled that it was finally over, leaving her breathless and trembling.

“Ugh… Hmmmm…”

A soft moan escaped Cyrene’s lips. The bed was already a mess, covered in sticky traces of her fluids and soaked in sweat that made the fabric cling to her skin.

As Areos withdrew, a shiver ran through her trembling body as the remnants of his s*men trickled out. She lay sprawled on the bed, unable even to think of closing her legs. Her body was still shaking and when she regained some clarity, she realised that it had been some time since they had begun. She blinked dazedly at the ceiling, her mind blank.