I Want To Take You Here... [R18]

The door creaked open, barely a whisper against the lavishly adorned walls.

A figure, cloaked in darkness, moved silently into the room.

The dim light flickered off the rich tapestries and golden accents, casting an almost eerie glow across the room's opulence.

A young man, his hair a striking cascade of golden strands, was absorbed in a tome bound in dark leather.

The book, ancient and intricately detailed, spoke of past rulers and their legacies.

His eyes, sharp and reflective, seemed to harbor a restless ambition that contrasted with the serene surroundings.

The intruder moved with an ethereal grace, his dark cloak merging with the shadows that danced along the room's richly decorated walls.

He was a specter of secrecy, his presence barely discernible amidst the luxurious surroundings.

As he approached, the room's atmosphere seemed to grow denser, charged with an air of silent menace.

The young man's sharp eyes tracked the figure's movements with the precision of a hawk.

He closed the book slowly, his expression unreadable as he waited for the figure to speak.

"My lord," the man's voice was a mere whisper, but it cut through the stillness like a knife, "I bring news of Prince Lucian."

Julius's eyes narrowed slightly, his curiosity piqued.

"Go on," he commanded, his voice low but edged with an undercurrent of tension.

The figure stepped closer, his presence like a shadow sliding across the room, "Prince Lucian visited Princess Eloise's residence this morning. He spent some time there before returning to his own Palace."

A moment of silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken implications.

Julius's mind raced as he processed the information.

Lucian's visit to Eloise was unexpected, and its timing seemed almost too coincidental.

His thoughts churned with the possibilities of what this encounter could mean, the room's opulence suddenly feeling like a cage of impending doom.

Julius's face was a mask of calm, but beneath the surface, his mind was a tempest of intrigue and paranoia. What could Lucian have sought from aunt Eloise?

Julius's gaze turned steely, his resolve hardening.

The Throne was a coveted prize, but every shadow, every whisper of conspiracy could jeopardize his ascent.

He needed to stay vigilant and uncover any hidden agendas that might threaten his ambitions.

"Continue to monitor the situation," Julius said, his voice icy and deliberate, "inform me of any further developments. I must ensure that nothing jeopardizes my path to the Throne."

The figure bowed in reverence and melted back into the shadows, leaving Julius alone with his dark thoughts.

"So," he mused aloud, his voice carrying a tone of both curiosity and underlying authority, "has your gaze finally turned toward the Throne, Lucian? Are you preparing to challenge what I am destined to inherit?"

He let the words hang in the air, the weight of his unspoken role heavy upon him.

The flicker of candlelight in his eyes betrayed a simmering mix of intrigue and strategic calculation.

...

"Ahh... Mmh... Ahh... Ha... Mmh! Mmph!" Isabella's sweet voice filled the room as her lithe body rocked back and forth, driven by the unrelenting thrusts of the young man behind her.

Her delicate hands gripped the white bed-sheets, her blue hair splayed across her back, glistening with sweat.

She was breathtakingly beautiful — soft, flawless skin that flushed a delicate pink under the heat of their passion, her deep blue eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, and her ample breasts bouncing with each deep plunge.

Every breath she took was a gasp, every moan was a cry of pure ecstasy as she surrendered herself completely to the young man's insatiable appetite.

A demonically handsome young man, tall and lean, with his long, flowing white hair cascading down his back, wore an expression of dark delight on his pale face.

His blood-red eyes gleamed with an insatiable hunger as he drove his massive, throbbing c*ck into her with relentless force, — the thick, rigid d!ck stretching her tight c*nt to its limits.

His hips moved with a steady, powerful rhythm, slamming into her plump a*s, the wet sounds of their union echoing throughout the room.

Each time he thrust into her, his balls slapped against her soaked, trembling folds, dripping with their mixed fluids, adding to the slick mess that covered the sheets.

Who else could it be if not her brother who gave her pleasure!?

"F*ck... You're so tight, Isabella... So perfect... You love it, don't you? Being filled up by your own brother?" Lucian's voice was a low, taunting growl, his grip tightening around her voluptuous hips as he pounded into her from behind.

He loved the way she quivered beneath him, every part of her reacting to his touch, to his every movement.

Her cries were a symphony to his ears, a sweet, sinful melody that only spurred him to f*ck her harder, deeper.

The once innocent, cold-hearted Princess became a desperate sl*t, addicted to her brother's c*ck, craving his rough, forbidden touch constantly.

"Ahh... Yes! Mmm... I love it... I love it, Lucian... Ahh, f*ck me more!" Isabella cried out, her voice breathy and desperate as she pushed back against him, meeting his every thrust.

She was on all fours like a farm animal, her body offered up willingly, eagerly, her hips arching higher to take him in even deeper.

The sensation of his thick, pulsing dragon filling her up sent shivers of delight through her entire body.

Her mind was a blur of pleasure, every nerve alight with the electric thrill of their forbidden act.

Her brother's hands roamed her body, squeezing and fondling her breasts roughly, his fingers tweaking her pink nipples until they were hard and sensitive.

Isabella's back arched, her cherry lips parting in a loud moan as he pulled her closer, his breath hot against her ear.

"You want me to f*ck you harder? Tell me how much you want it. Beg for it, Isabella," Lucian demanded, his voice dripping with arrogance, his thrusts becoming even more intense.

"Please, Lucian... Ahh... I need you... I need you to f*ck me harder... Fill me up... Stretch me... Mphh, I'm your sl*t... Your wh*re... F*ck me like you own me... Ahh!"

Isabella's pleas were frantic, her body moving of its own accord as she pushed herself back onto him, desperate for more.

She loved the way he took control, the way he used her body to satisfy his desires.

There was no shame, no guilt — only the all-consuming heat of their shared lust.

Lucian smirked at her words, his pace quickening, each thrust rough and deep, pushing her to the edge of her sanity.

"That's right... You belong to me, Isabella. Only I can f*ck you like this. Only I can make you feel this way," he growled, his hips slamming into her a*s with a brutal rhythm that made her toes curl.

Her breasts swung wildly with every powerful thrust, her moans turning into high-pitched screams of pleasure as she lost herself completely to the sensation.

Isabella didn't know what had happened after Lucian visited aunt Eloise, but even since he came, he had been f*cking her like a cheap wh*re.

For the past two days, Lucian had ravaged every inch of her body — her sweet, innocent face, her heaving chest, her wet, welcoming p*ssy.

There wasn't a part of her he hadn't claimed, marked with his touch, his taste.

He had taken her mouth, her p*ssy, soaking her armpits, given her facial, and even the space between her t!ts, using her like the perfect plaything she was.

But there was one place he hadn't yet ventured, one final taboo that still remained untouched.

"Your p*ssy feels so good, Isabella... So f*cking tight... But do you know what I want?" Lucian whispered, his voice husky with desire.

His hands slid down to her a*s, spreading her cheeks wide, exposing her most secret entrance.

"I want to take you here... I want to f*ck your sh!thole, too. You want that, don't you, my pretty little sl*t?"

Isabella shuddered at his words, her breath hitching.

Her mind was hazy, lost in the fog of her brother's relentless thrusting, and the thought of him taking her there sent a thrill through her that she couldn't deny.

"Ahh, Lucian... Yes... I want it... Take me... Take my a*s, too... Please, just f*ck me everywhere... I'm yours... All yours..."

Lucian chuckled darkly, his blood-red eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"Soon... But not yet, sister. This place needs a bit more loosening. But for now, I'm going to make you c*m like this. I want you squeeze my c*ck until you can't take it anymore," he said, his voice full of wicked promise.

He pounded into her harder, faster, his c*ck driving into her dripping crack with brutal force.

Each thrust sent shockwaves through her body, making her perky breasts bounce and her voice break into breathless gasps and whimpers.

"Ahhh, f*ck... Oh god, Lucian... I'm c*mming... I'M C*MMINGGGGGG...!" Isabella screamed, her body shaking violently as she reached her climax.

Her p*ssy clamped down on his c*ck, squeezing him tight as waves of pleasure washed over her, her juices gushing around his hardness.

Lucian groaned deeply, feeling her spasm around him, his own climax building rapidly.

With a final, powerful thrust, Lucian buried himself balls deep inside her, his d!ck twitching as he released his hot, thick seeds into her waiting womb.

Spurt~ Spurt~

"F*ck... Take it all, Isabella... Every last drop...," he growled, his hips grinding against her a*s as he emptied himself inside her.

His hot c*m filled her up, mixing with her own fluids and dripping out of her, staining the sheets beneath them.

Isabella collapsed onto the bed, her body trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Her c*ckhole throbbed, still stretched and dripping from their intense session, her legs spread wide, exposing her gaping, puffy c*nt.

"Lucian... Please... I can't... I'm so tired... My p*ssy needs a break..." she moaned, her voice weak and pleading.

Lucian sighed, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

"Alright, sister... You've earned a rest," he murmured, his tone softer now.

He gently laid her down, spreading her creamy legs even wider to admire the sight of her thoroughly f*cked and satisfied.

Her pink, swollen folds glistened, drenched in their combined fluids, still pulsing from the aftermath of her intense climax.

The thick, creamy c*m oozed down her inner thighs, slipping between her a*scheeks, and wetting her tight, untouched sh!thole, coating it in a slick mess...