I wake up relaxed and loose after our night of adventures. The endorphins from satisfying sex helped me sleep a bit longer than normal, but I’m still awake well before the sunrise. I could use this time to go over the tax reports before my meeting with the Branch of Trade today, but I don’t want to leave my nest just yet. Not when I have Gilroy sleeping so peacefully beside me, a dreamy smile on his face. Although Fionn agreed we didn’t have to share rooms, I don’t know if I will be able to get away with Gilroy staying in my room after our marriage. Will I be able to continue enjoying this glorious view or will our attempt to seduce Fionn backfire?

I push Gil’s curls back softly, knowing my gentle caressing won’t wake him. “I’m going to protect you,” I whisper to the sleeping man. “We’re going to find a way to be together forever. We have to, because I…” I choke off abruptly. Even if he can’t hear me, I can’t say it.

I pop a light kiss onto his forehead and roll out of bed, deciding it is probably best to not dwell on dark thoughts for too long. An hour later, my new maid, Hilda enters my room as I am reviewing my notes for my proposal.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” she intones formally, keeping her eyes averted.

“Come in, Hilda,” I urge, waving with my hands. “You can start the fire and then help me dress for the day.”

“Very good, Your Highness.” She bows before stepping fully into the room, but when she catches sight of Gil’s sleeping form—thankfully covered from his nakedness by sheets this time—her eyes get very large. She glances nervously between me and my advisor, as if unsure if she is really allowed to be here.

I smirk at her, challenging her to question me. “It’s alright Hilda,” I chuckle. “Advisor Ailin sleeps like the dead. You won’t wake him up by starting the fire.”

“Y-yes, of course, Your Highness,” she squeaks nervously before shuffling across the room to begin her duties.

I rise from my desk and saunter to her, allowing my silk robe to hang slightly from my shoulder. She doesn’t notice my approach until I run my fingers through her soft yellow hair. She spins on her heels, brown eyes startlingly large. “Y-your High-” she begins, obviously a little frightened.

“Tell me, little mouse,” I coo as I lean in closer to her, trapping her in front of the newly lit fireplace. “Have you told anyone about what you’ve seen here?”

She doesn’t respond, but her eyes get impossibly bigger.

“So you did,” I grin, not too concerned yet.

“I- I didn’t!” she cries, clearly distressed. “I just- Miss Lile warned me- and- I-”

My smile broadens. Lile is the head maid of the castle and one of my regular partners.

“Oh?” I reply as I idly adjust the end of her hair so it falls behind her shoulder. “And what did Miss Lile tell you?”

“She-she- told me to enjoy myself, Your Highness” the young woman confesses, her light skin turning an attractive shade of pink.

Ah. Thank you Lile. I guide Hilda’s chin to face me and whisper into her ear, “And would you enjoy it if I kissed you now?”

“I- I don’t know, Your Highness,” She bites her lip looking so damn sexy, unable to meet my gaze.

“That’s understandable,” I hum. “Many women don’t know what they truly enjoy. May I help you figure it out?”

Her blush deepens, but she nods anyways. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“While you are in my arms, you may call me Saoirse,” I tell her just before I press my lips softly against hers.

Just a peck, to help warm her up, see if she truly likes it. When I see the dazed expression on her face, I can’t help but feel a little pleased with myself. I lean back in for another taste and she meets me halfway, forgetting her nervousness. She is actually surprisingly skilled at kissing, moving against my lips with steady tenderness which speaks to at least a little bit of experience. Just as I slide my tongue against her bottom lip to ask for permission to enter, a loud “a-hem” interrupts us.

Hilda immediately pulls away from me, dropping to the ground in what I can only assume is an attempt to prostrate herself, but, with the fire directly behind her, she doesn’t have the room for such theatrics. I can’t help but chuckle as I turn to meet the knowing smirk of my lover, propped up lazily on my bed by one hand.

“Feeling left out?” I tease him.

“Just enjoying the show,” he purrs. “But I didn’t want to be a total perv by not letting you know I was watching. Do continue.”

I roll my eyes, turning back to Hilda to help her back to her feet. “It’s ok, little mouse. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I can’t help but brush her stray baby hairs from her face as I speak. I gesture to Gil behind us. “See, he’s not even mad. Advisor Ailin and I are used to sharing.”

She nods slightly at my words, but won’t meet my gaze.

“Tell me, Hilda: you’ve never been with a woman before, but you’ve been with a man. Am I right?” I ask softly, trying not to startle her again.

She mumbles a soft, “Yes, Your Highness,” in response.

“That’s good,” I play lightly with her earlobe, enjoying the slight twitch of her skin as I tickle her. “Did you like it?”

“I- I liked him, but…” she trails off, apparently realizing she is about to say something “inappropriate” to a princess.

I hum in understanding. “And what do you think of Advisor Ailin? Do you find him attractive?” Her trepid eyes snap to mine, but I meet her with an encouraging grin. She looks away again and nods slowly. “That’s good, little mouse,” I praise, petting her hair. “Do you want to kiss him too?” I ask. “It’s ok if you say no. I won’t be upset and neither will he.”

It’s a dangerous game I play with Gilroy: sleeping with servants. The power dynamic between us is way off, but that’s the case no matter who I choose to have sex with. The only thing I can do is try to make it as clear as possible to the women I sleep with that they are under no obligation to please me, even if a regular dose of oxytocin does inspire a surprising amount of loyalty.

I’m usually pretty good at gauging if a woman is actually interested in me or if they are just feeling pressured. I’m fairly confident Hilda is just a shy girl, but I could be wrong. When she bobs her head again instead of verbally responding, I decide to test her a little.

“Gilroy isn’t like other men you might have been with,” I tell her as I guide her gently across the room. I stop about halfway to the bed, facing her towards Gil as I slot myself behind her so I can whisper in her ear. “He won’t take anything from you. You have to give it to him willingly. So if you want a kiss, you will need to go over to him and initiate.” I feel her trembling slightly in my grasp, so maybe it’s more than just nerves making her hesitate. “Or, I can ask him to leave,” I offer.

However, my suggestion is met with a sharp turn of the woman’s head and sad eyes. I laugh lightly at her adorable pout and can’t help but peck those heart shaped lips.

“I—I want to kiss him,” she stammers.

“Then go on,” I instruct, pushing her lightly from my arms towards the very eager Gil. She takes a few steps forward, before turning to look back at me with worried eyes. “It’s alright. He isn’t engaged to be married after all,” I can’t help but tease. This, of course, does not do anything to smooth the troubling between her eyebrows, perhaps making it even worse as she realizes her mistake. I drift towards her, careful to keep some distance between us, even if I want to ravage her so badly right now. “I’m teasing you, Hilda. It’s fine. I’m not married yet, and my engagement is a matter of state, not of the heart. If that makes you uncomfortable, you can leave and we will never speak of this again.” Her eyes flick to the door, as if tempted by my offer. “But, if you stay, we will do anything you want. We will make you feel like a queen.”

“You— you won’t fire me if I leave?” she inquires meekly.

Gil stifles a laugh, but I can’t help but sigh, a bit disappointed. “No, of course not, little mouse. You have done nothing wrong.”

Hilda dips her head, staring at her shoes. When she finally starts moving again, I worry she really might just leave, but she surprises me by crossing to the bed, grabbing Gil’s cheeks between her hands, and planting a quick, but solid kiss right on his lips. When she pulls back, he looks a bit dazed, but recovers after only a moment.

“Can I have another?” he asks, tapping his lips with his index finger.

Hilda obliges, leaning over him to kiss deeper. She gasps when I step behind her, push her long hair away from her neck, and place a trail of hot kisses along her exposed skin. I pull her into me with my hands on her hips as I continue sucking on her collar. I shiver when I feel Gilroy’s fingers brush my hand, then grip my wrist hard and tug us both closer. I catch myself before toppling over, but Hilda lands on top of Gil, surprised. She begins to sit up, but he guides her face back down into a luxurious kiss I know makes girls forget their own names.

With Hilda straddling Gil, I join the pair on the bed, slotting myself behind the maid, exploring the smooth curves of her body until I find her apple-sized breasts. She shutters as I reach down her blouse to palm them lightly. “We don’t have much time, my queen, but would you like Gil or I to give you head?”

“Head?” she questions nervously as Gil begins grinding into her gently with his sheet-covered cock.

We laugh together, enjoying her innocent question. “Yes, deary. Head,” I brush my fingers along her lips, parting them slightly, and slipping inside to wet them a little. “It means we kiss you,”

“Down here,” Gil finishes for me, dry humping into her for emphasis.

“Um… will you do it, Your Highness?”

“Only if you call me Saoirse,” I mumble against her skin.

“Please… Saoirse.”

I smile as I flop off Gil in order to lie flat on my back. “Kneel over me and hold onto the headboard,” I instruct. “Yes, like that.” I settle into the pillows, curled up slightly with my hands resting on her thighs. I push her skirts up and pull down her white undergarments so popular in Crismond fashion.

“You are so lovely,” I tell her, skating my fingers along her silk skin. She blushes prettily, looking down at me through the frame of her outstretched arms. “If we do anything you don't like, say 'tulip' and we will stop immediately. Understand?"

When she nods, I eagerly bring my lips to her tender flesh, keeping her garments out of the way with my hands on her hips. I begin slowly, just the way Gilroy pleasured me last night. But Hilda is too inexperienced and quickly begins wilting, unable to support her weight, as soon as my tongue brushes over her clit.

Gilroy watches us with a hungry glint in his eyes while he strokes himself slowly. “Help hold her up, will you? And make that tool of yours useful,” I order.

“As you wish,” he smirks, sitting up to straddle me in a position we use frequently with women who prefer gentle receiving. He disappears from my view, but when I hear him rummaging around side drawer and the “pop” of oil cork, I know he is preparing himself. I resume my ministrations to Hilda as I relish in the feeling of Gil’s weight on my legs and then his well lubricated fingers prepping me.

This is nothing like last night, all finesse gone in favor of effective loosening, but I don’t care. Sometimes I like it a little rough, like being dominated. I am almost overwhelmed by the painful pleasure of him guiding his dick into me, hilting me while I push my tongue into Hilda’s tight hole. Then his arms wrap around her, holding her up while simultaneously giving her breasts a greedy massage. I curl myself inwards further to allow Gil to hold her close against him while I continue sucking her off. His penis pushes deeper into me at the new angle, ramming into my cervix with a slight stab to my stomach.

I whimper as he begins moving, rough and hard, exactly the way Hilda would probably hate, but there is a different kind of gratification that comes from giving pleasure while receiving pain. A sort of satisfaction in the way they can’t resist me and glee as all other thoughts are chased away by the unavoidable pain. I fight against it, trying to focus on pleasuring the beautiful woman in front of me, but I can’t hold back the moans spilling from me.

They only grow when Gil praises me with, “Look how pretty she is, little mouse. Such a good girl, taking my dick so well while she sucks your clit.”

Hilda must like the vibration of my lips, because she lets out a shaky groan in response, setting a warm glow within me. I love pleasuring women and the view of ecstasy painted on her cute, doe-like face has me reeling. Her hands fall from the headboard, one tangling into my hair while the other laces with Gil’s hand on her breast.

Hilda rocks into me at the same time Gil does, pushed slightly by his weight against her back, but she holds me close with a firm grip on my black roots, and he holds her up with one palm on her breast and the other around her waist. I circle my legs around him for extra support as we fall into a steady rhythm that both hurts and pleases me. He kisses her neck as he punishes me with an urgency uncommon for him.

I know he is afraid. Afraid to lose this. Afraid to lose me. Something twists inside me as our eyes meet, his nose still buried in the blonde beauty’s neck, his eyelids half-mast, glazed over in pleasure, no doubt the same as mine.

Fuck, I love him. I feel tears spring forth as we come together. It’s a good thing my mouth is occupied, or I might have broken down right then and there and told him how I feel as my mind loses all reason. Instead, I only manage to pathetically sob, my tears and spit mixing into a slick lubricant which buzzes with my lips. Finally, Hilda unravels in our arms as the floor of her pelvic muscles contract and then begin pulsing against my tongue still teasing her hole. She slumps into Gil’s arms, and he gently lowers her onto the unoccupied side of the bed.

“I— I—” she huffs, unable to catch her breath.

He bends over her, brushing a gentle kiss against her mouth. “Shhh…” he coos. “Don’t try to speak.” Then he turns his attention to me, to give me more thorough aftercare. He begins with tender kisses that have me sinking deeper into the mattress.

“Are you alright, Sersh?” he murmurs against my lips. “Was I too rough?”

I can’t find the energy to move a muscle, so I capture his bottom lip with my teeth and gently pull him down on top of me. “No, I lo—loved it,” I mumble in response.

“Good girl.” He kisses me one more time, before rising from the bed. He is gone for only a moment, as he rinses his protection off in a shallow basin of water on my vanity. He returns with a cool, wet washcloth which he uses to wipe away sweat on my brow and then the oil between my legs. “I think she is out cold,” he snickers softly. “Come on, Your Highness. I’ll help you dress for brunch with your fiance.”

“You really know how to kill the mood, huh?” I groan, but his words are effective in helping me slip out of bed to prepare for the new day, despite my lingering soreness.