Few months later~~~~
Henry, paced around his room, his mind consumed by thoughts of Mary. It had been a week since they last made love, and the absence of her touch was driving him mad. Mary had been avoiding him, using excuses like fatigue or feeling unwell to distance herself after their heated make-out sessions. But Henry was no fool; he could sense that something was amiss.
One evening, as the sun began to set, Henry found Mary in the royal garden. The sight of her, bathed in the golden light, took his breath away. Her soft curves were accentuated by the gentle breeze, and her eyes sparkled with a mysterious allure. Henry approached her, his heart pounding with desire and concern.
"Mary," he began, his voice husky with emotion. "Why have you been avoiding me? What's going on?"
Mary hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. Henry could see the struggle in her eyes, the conflict between her desire to confide in him and her fear of his reaction. He took her hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on her skin.
"Mary," he whispered, "you can tell me anything. You know that, don't you?"
Mary looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She took a deep breath, her chest heaving with the effort. "I'm pregnant, Henry," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Henry was stunned. He stared at Mary, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. He was shocked, thrilled, and above all, aroused at the thought of Mary, pregnant with his child. He could already imagine her lactating breasts, her swollen belly, and the thought sent a surge of desire coursing through him.
Without a word, Henry pulled Mary into his arms, his lips crashing onto hers in a wild, passionate kiss. Mary responded with equal fervor, her hands tangling in his hair as they stumbled towards the royal chambers.
"You kept this from me," he growled against her lips, his breath hot, voice thick with a mix of frustration and desire. "You thought I wouldn't want you like this? With my child growing inside you?"
His hands roamed lower, possessive and reverent. "You've never looked more like mine, Mary. So soft. So full. God, I could lose myself in you."
He pressed himself against her, letting her feel the aching hardness she'd stirred just by breathing.
"You're not hiding from me again. Not now. Not ever."
Once inside, Henry's hands were everywhere, tearing at Mary's clothes, desperate to feel her skin against his. He kissed her again, his hands exploring her body with a newfound urgency. He cupped her breasts, feeling the heaviness of them, the thought of her lactating breasts making him even Harder.
He trailed kisses down her neck, his tongue leaving a wet path as he made his way down to her breasts. He sucked on her nipples as he felt them swell with milk. The sensation was intoxicating, driving him wild with desire. He moved his hand down to her belly, feeling the slight swell of it. The thought of her belly growing, carrying his child, made him even more desperate to be inside her.
"Look at you," he growled, voice rough with reverence and hunger. "So fucking full of me already… carrying my heir like the good little queen you are."
He kissed her jaw, lips brushing against her skin like a vow, while his hand stayed firm against her.
"You were made for this. To take my cock. To swell with my child. Every inch of you is mine."
His teeth grazed her neck, a low growl vibrating in his chest.
"Say it. Say you belong to your king."
Henry's hands trailed lower, his fingers finding Mary's wet, aching pussy. He fingered her, his thumb rubbing circles on her clit as she moaned and writhed beneath him. He could feel her walls clenching around his fingers, her body begging for more.
Her breath hitched, her hands clutching at his tunic as his fingers worked between her legs. Her thighs trembled, and her voice came out in a whisper — barely more than a breath, but soaked in need.
"Y-Yes… I belong to you… only you, my king."
She looked up at him through heavy lashes, her lips parted, trembling. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, equal parts shyness and desire, but there was no hesitation in her eyes — only submission, and something deeper. Something aching.
"I'm yours to ruin… yours to keep," she murmured, voice soft and shaking as her body arched into his touch. "Do whatever you want to me… I was made for you."
He pushed her down on the bed, his hands pulling her nightgown up. He buried his face in her pussy, his tongue flicking against her clit. She moaned, her hands gripping the sheets.
He growled against her, voice muffled but thick with hunger.
"Dripping for me already… fuck, you're so easy like this. My good little queen—can't even wait for my cock, can you?"
He sucked hard, then slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right as his tongue never stopped moving.
"You're going to come on my mouth like the obedient thing you are. Gonna feed me what's mine."
He continued to lick and suck, his fingers joining his tongue, pushing in and out of her.Mary's moans grew louder, her body arching off the bed. Henry could feel her getting closer, her pussy tightening around his fingers. He pulled away, his cock aching to be inside her.
He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock teasing her. She looked at him, her eyes filled with desire. "Fuck me, Henry," she whispered.
He didn't need to be told twice. He thrust into her, her pussy tight and wet around his cock. He set a wild pace, his hips moving against hers, their bodies slapping together. Mary's moans filled the room, her hands gripping his back.
Henry could feel himself getting closer, his balls tightening. He reached down, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed it in circles, his thrusts becoming more desperate. Mary's body tensed, her pussy tightening around his cock as she came.
Henry couldn't hold back any longer. He thrust into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he came inside her. He collapsed on top of her, their bodies slick with sweat.
They lay there, their breaths mingling together, their bodies still connected. Henry looked at Mary, his eyes filled with love and desire. "I can't wait to see you grow with our child, Mary."
Mary smiled, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "Neither can I, Henry."
As they lay there, spent and satisfied, Henry couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. He had a child on the way, and a woman who loved him. What more could he ask for?
She lay bare beside him, soft and breathless, her body still trembling from his touch. He watched her, quiet and still — his queen, his obsession, his reward for every sin.
He had killed for this.
His son. His wife. A crown prince buried in smoke and shame. A queen left to rot in silence. And all for her. For the sweetness of her voice, the way she submitted so easily to his hands, the promise of their child growing beneath her skin.
Let them whisper.
Let the court drown in scandal and spit his name like venom.
He'd slit their throats with a smile if they dared touch her. He would do it all again. Twice over.
He turned to her, brushing her hair from her face like she was the only thing in the world worth gentleness.
The end.