Assured Lineage Pt. 02

She heard the disgusted hiss Ilsa made against the backs of her teeth as she undressed her. Bruises and mottled marks had already started blooming over her skin like small macabre flowers, her breasts especially littered with colors. Brown and purple, some red swollen marks with swaths of burst blood vessels.

"What has he done to your beautiful breasts?" Ilsa demanded in a hush, shaking her head as her blue eyes hardened. Her face was perturbed, lips pinched together as she aimed Alya toward the copper tub.

She followed the other woman's lead, Ilsa silent but intent. Alya sank into the half warm water that was in the tub already, groaning into her weariness as she sank her back against the tub. She let her maid tucked a cloth behind her neck, head lolled back as more water was poured in over her breasts. She felt the slickness of oils and salts, smelled the heady mix of herbs and flowers, languishing in the hot water stroking her skin.

"If that's how he treated your breasts I can only imagine how you feel between the thighs."

"Tender," Alya murmured tiredly. "Did the King bed Talisa?"

"She faired a bit better than you," the older woman told her, a hand in the water and massaging tensed calf muscles. "Doubt it helped any. The poor girl is barren since that last miscarriage, I'm sure."

"You think so?"

Ilsa's face went sad as she switched to Alya's other calf, voice hushed and apologetic. "I think any child inside her withers."

"How long will this take, Ilsa?" Alya asked quietly, her gaze going slightly unfocused as she stared ahead.

"For you? Tupped every night?" Her servant gave a shrug, rising so that she could lift a foot from the water and stretch her leg out. "Not long, I don't think. You're due your moonblood in a week or so. I suppose we'll know then."

She switched legs after a moment and Alya sighed, letting her eyes shut lax as her head tipped fully back. The older woman stretched both legs, forcing her spine to loosen a little of its tension before she put them both back under warmed water.

"I can help you kill anything in your belly now, Princess. There are herbs, concoctions," Ilsa murmured quietly as the rounded the tub. "If you wish."

"I'd rather not prolong this."

"I understand," she agreed, both her aged hands starting a soft massage along Alya's shoulders. "How does that feel?"

"Sore, but good."

"Just relax, child."

*

The second night Deremon wouldn't allow poor Lucius to leave, making the young man sit awkwardly in a chair that had been pulled close to the bed. The servant was obviously nervous and terrified, hands jittering as he shifted more weight away from the bed.

Alya was mortified and Deremon knew it, enjoyed her objectification as he stripped her just between the bed and Lucius' knees. When he made her get on her knees and put his cock in her mouth she saw Lucius shift, very obviously trying to ease the sudden tightness between his legs.

She had known he was attracted to her, had been for ages. What was he supposed to do while she sucked the other man off?

Deremon didn't allow the servant to scramble from the room until she had her feet hooked over his shoulders and she was sloppy wet with his first round of cum, both of them panting hard. Her thighs were sore and red, puffed up from his slaps and squeezing.

"Stoke that fire up and then go on," he told Lucius before groaning himself fully onto the mattress, leaving her spread open and leaking cum, her hips aslant on the edge of the mattress.

"Yes, m'Lord."

She didn't even care anymore what he saw before he left. She just wanted the night over with.

*

Deep in the night Deremon pushed her thighs apart again to wake her, fingers thrusting in and out of her before she was even fully awake. Her eyes burned dreary as he shoved her thighs farther open, lifting her legs at the backs of her knees.

"I shall miss having you beneath me," he murmured, lips rubbing against her cheek as he dabbled the head of his clock between her still dampened thighs. "Talisa's tits just aren't the same."

"No, my lord."

"My nephew's cum is even more potent than mine," he told her as he sank into her to the hilt, balls pressing up against her dusky arse. "But I think I'll have you again soon anyhow, yes? We keep trying until the deed is done."

"Yes, Lord Deremon," she agreed with a whisper, lifting her legs as he withdrew and then thrust forward again.

"Beg me to breed you," he demanded, fingers rubbing at her clit mercilessly. He kept at her, thrusting while pinching and teasing on the nub of her clit

She moaned, her cunt clenching down as her hips pressed toward him. "Fill me, my lord."

"Yes, Alya, yes," he encouraged, voice getting raspy and impatient.

His fingers got quicker as he kissed her, slightly meaner in the way they touched her. She welcomed it, though, feeling her hips start to quiver as his thrusts quickened. She was slick wet for him suddenly, the unending assault on her clit making her incrementally wetter. His tongue brushed along her teeth and then he grunted against her cheek.

"Give me a son, please," she begged of him, knowing he was getting close. She wasn't far behind him, surprisingly. Not with the way he kept slicking against her clit. "I need your cum in me. I need a child."

"Beg," he grunted out loudly, chest rising as he pushed his weight up on both hands and started rocking hard and fast into her. Their joining was sloppy, wet and noisy and she moaned as he made sure each deep thrust rocked her entire petite body.

"Please, my lord. Please fill me? Give me a child."

He made her keep begging, right up until he blasted his biggest load yet deep inside her. Her thighs shook this time, her hips shuddering as she came around him, gasping as the orgasm raked over her. She felt her cunt pulse and pull at him, gripping at his cock and keeping his cum buried.

"Good girl," he hummed against her throat as he ducked forward. "Milk my cock, fill that precious womb."

Alya whimpered in response, unable to speak as she sobbed against his shoulder. She wasn't sure if she was crying out of physical discomfort, emotional exhaustion, or just pure release. No matter the reason her cunt kept spasming, grasping on his cock as she let out a whine.

"Your husband hasn't ever been this deep in your cunt, has he?"

"No," she sobbed out, legs wrapped completely around his waist.

"My pleasure, then."

*

"Highness."

She jumped, her whole body rocking back with surprise at the touch of fingers on her face. She wasn't nearly awake as a palm brushed her forehead, not entirely. Her body ached, her thighs burned, and she had to relieve herself.

Everything was too hot, even as Lucius dragged the blanket back from her bare and flushed skin. His embarrassment was mostly gone, glance diverted intentionally as he motioned for her to stand.

"Lord Deremon ordered that I assist you to your own quarters. You'll be served breakfast there."

"Not the dining room?"

"The royal family is meeting with the generals this morning."

"I see," she murmured, feeling the room waver and sway around her as she stood. Aching thighs, tensed calves, and a lack of a full decent meal since the morning before was shifting her balance, rocking her center. "Lucius? Would you give me your shoulder?"

He nodded as set his hand to her hip, "May I carry you, Princess?"

"You needn't - oh," she yelped, catching around his shoulders as he swept her up in his arms and toward the door.

"You don't weigh a thing. You're too thin," he accused as he set them on course for her chambers.

"Ilsa agrees. I'm sorry that he made you stay last night. I don't - "

"I am the one who is sorry, Highness. This is hardest on you and Talisa. Neither of you have anything to apologize for." The words were staccato and forceful but quiet. She appreciated how defensive he was of both her and Talisa. It felt like he was one of the only people besides Ilsa to have her good health in mind. "He's my father, you know? It's why he shows off."

Surprise struck her hard and her head shot up, fingers on his throat as she studied his profile. "Deremon is?"

She wasn't sure how she hadn't seen the resemblance before.

Lucius simply nodded, his jaw rubbing against the side of her head as he tucked her tighter. She felt him make the movement once again before he restrained himself and readjusted. "But my mother is just a laundress. So I am his steward."

"I feel better then, knowing you. Knowing his fruit isn't necessarily so..."

"Rotten as its vine?" he asked, voice warm and comforting. "Do not worry. Any child of yours will be - "

"Your blood is half royal," Alya exhaled against his neck.

"It is, Highness," he corroborated.

Alya clutched tighter around him, feeling it almost sob from her lips. She fought the tears that were suddenly threatening to fall. "I wish it could be you instead."

"Be careful with wishes, now," he advised, brushing his lips in dark hair, his steps still sure as they neared the western corridor. "In desperation, it may soon be me. And the cousins."

"Then choose me over Talisa." Even as despoiled as she was, and by his own father? Who would want to bed his own father's used whore? It was an unfair request, she knew. But then, her current lifestyle was the epitome of unfair requests.

"I would choose you over all of Attria, Princess."

She chose to believe him as she clung tighter to his neck and shoulders, if only because she needed the boost of morale.

The fresh scent of him was clean and warm and she tethered her memories of the morning to the smell of him as much as she could before he let her go.