Princess Xxalia Ch. 02

She inhaled sharply as she felt the enticing burn of her father's enormous erection pushing up into her. Her body shuddered, her hands leaning against his broad chest as she straddled him. His hands were on her hips, gently guiding her. It was their first time since the birth of their son and Xxalia was eager to have her father's immense girth filling her once again.

"Father," she whimpered. Her white blonde hair trailed forward as she hung her head and closed her eyes in breathless anticipation.

She reached between her legs and instantly felt the unrelenting velvet length that was mercilessly penetrating her tender flesh. She ran her fingers over her delicate, moist lips that stretched around him, tingling furiously.

Her father suddenly thrust upward, impaling her fully. She cried out as her body accepted him, clenching and straining to contain his great width. He pushed again, firmly inserting himself deep within her.

She moaned and began to rock her hips. The sensation of his full length rubbing her scorching walls made her shiver with waves of delight. She looked down at her father, her eyes full of want just as he gazed lustfully up at her. His hands smoothed over her flat belly and massaged her heavy breasts. A small white droplet appeared and the king sat up instantly. He held her firmly as his mouth captured the nipple and he began to draw upon it.

Xxalia sighed as her father suckled, her hands running through his long ivory hair.

"You taste of nectar," he murmured against her before moving to its twin.

"You feed upon your son's dinner," she said smiling, her pleasure evident as he pulled strongly at the flushed peak.

He laid back, his arms still about her and rolled them both so that he was above her. She smiled up at him, smoothing the long hair away from his face.

He leaned on his powerful arms as he pulled out slightly then pushed back into her. She groaned tilting her hips upward, urging her father deeper as the heat of pleasure blazed through her.

"Oh Xxalia," he whispered, his hips moving slowly, savouring the feel of her tight sheath.

He dipped his head and sought her mouth. Their tongues entwined, each tasting the other. She moaned softly against her father's lips, her legs going about his waist. She felt him tense with every thrust, his muscles working to push himself as far into her as he could.

He slid a hand between their bodies, his fingers stroking over the soft white curls before they slid to her intimate apex.

She whimpered as he found her throbbing nub, her cries increasing with every caress. He stroked her in time with his thrusts. She was moaning, murmuring her love as the ripples of pleasure strengthened, sending shivers to her core and down her legs.

"Father," she cried, her back tensing, her hips shifting further forward. She pushed against him, her hips begging his to move faster. He drove into her, his pace gaining momentum both in his thrusts and with his fingers.

She cried out loudly as the intensity mounted, coursing through her limbs as though molten. Her legs clung to him, shaking against his body, her head rolling from side to side until she peaked and her orgasm exploded deep within her core with a shattering cry.

Her father grunted as her inner walls clamped down on him more tightly. He looked down at his spent daughter and plunged into her without restraint. She held his gaze as she jerked against the pillows. She saw the look of determination on his face and the raw heat of his passion and desire in his eyes. He was growling with every stroke now, his own release close. She reached up and stroked his back until with a roar he grabbed her hips, his climax erupting into her in a flood. The surge drenched her passage and oozed out the sides to slide down her buttocks.

He lay upon her gently, his breath ragged. She kissed his sweat dampened cheek and stroked his tangled hair. He eased out of her, the slick sound of their coupling audible as he slipped free. They lay in each other's arms, exhausted, perspiring but thoroughly satiated. Xxalia would have stayed forever in the arms of her father, had it not been for the sudden and rather loud cry of her son.

She threw on a robe and hurried to the tiny prince's cradle. He was a good sleeper, but roused quickly when he was hungry.

"My darling Wheren," she crooned as she picked him up from his tangle of blankets. She held him to her, patting his back and murmuring sweetly to sooth him.

She settled herself in a large chair by the window. Against all the advice of her maids and the palace ladies, Xxalia insisted on keeping Wheren in the room with her and feeding him herself.

She put him to her breast and leaned back in the chair. Her father joined her in the chair opposite. He too, had simply pulled a robe on so she could still see his naked form as he lounged in front of her.

"I have unfortunate news," he said quietly.

She had sensed his agitation earlier, before they'd made love and now the words sent an icy spike down her back. She had a notion as to what the news might be but she was still apprehensive. Now that she'd given her father a son the negotiations for her marriage to Prince Bayu of Farentine would no doubt continue.

"What news?" she said, hoping her voice sounded indifferent. She refused to look at her father directly doing so would only encourage the tears to flow.

The king sighed, "I've received word from King Dahl. It seems the prince is anxious to meet you."

She stayed focussed on her son, "Then he shall have to be patient. Wheren is barely six weeks old; would they expect a mother to just abandon her child?" Her voice was rising and she could feel the panic in the pit of her stomach.

"You're not just a mother Xxalia. You're the Princess of Corbelay and betrothed to the Crown Prince of Farentine. Regardless of your standing, your title comes first."

Now she looked up at him fearfully. He was blatantly inferring that she leave, that she leave their son. The cruelty of it burned her throat and she felt the tears brimming.

"Please don't," she begged, her lower lip quivering. She'd always felt vulnerable in her father's presence. She saw that his hands were gripping the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles were white. He was trying to restrain his temper, but she didn't know how long for.

"I have no choice Xxalia; you must go, within the week." He leaned forward, his head in his hands. This was affecting him as much as it was hurting her.

"Please father." Her voice cracked and the threatening tears spilled to her cheeks.

"They will kill me," he thundered, "My hands are tied. Do you understand what my death would mean to this nation? Though heir, Wheren is still too young and your cousin lies in wait like a serpent. For the sake of your kingdom you must go."

Xxalia was sobbing openly. She clung to her son, startling the baby who began to wail.

"They mean to kill the king of Corbelay for the sake of a few more weeks with my son? It's madness," her eyes were swimming with tears now, her face blotched red. She shifted the baby, placing him at her other breast, patting and consoling though she gulped and sniffed.

The king came and knelt before her, taking her hand in his, the other hand tilting her face to look at him.

"Darling daughter, do you not think that if I could change this I would? What has happened is unchanged. I will love you forever as daughter and lover. Our son is evidence of that," he stroked the contented baby's soft pale head, "But think of your position, you are the princess and your royal duty is to do as you must for your people."

She nodded silently, her eyes closed against the tears and felt his kiss on her lips then her forehead.

He left her then, alone with her son. Once the door was closed behind him Xxalia cried openly. She held her son close, touching his head and tiny hands, memorising everything about him down to his sweet baby smell.

Five days later she was alone in her chamber. She'd said a painful farewell to her son and the tears were only now drying on her cheeks. She shakily went about the room, ensuring nothing was forgotten. Although it was a simple visit, the journey itself took several weeks. Her maids would accompany her along with a full guard and several of the palace servants. She smoothed the quilt on the bed and didn't hear the door open and close softly behind her.

"Xxalia," said the deep familiar voice of her father. She whirled around to see him walking to her, his arms outstretched. She threw herself into them, tears flowing again.

"My darling daughter, my sweet child, I am in such agony," he whispered into her hair.

"I love you father," she said her throat choked with tears, "Please take care of our son."

"We will eagerly await your return," he said, his hand stroking her long hair.

She lifted her face and he claimed her mouth, hard and insistent, his lips almost bruising hers. She realised he tugged at the ribbons of her bodice and she pulled his shirt from his trousers. He didn't wait for her to undress but lifted her easily and carried her to the bed. She laid upon it crossways, her skirts around her waist and her legs open. He freed himself from his leather trousers and mounted her seizing her hips roughly he entered her without preamble. She cried out as he filled her, her back like an archer's bow as she it tried to accommodate him.

She let him have his way with her, her legs splayed on either side of his rutting hips. He wrenched open her bodice, tearing the silk then leaned forward and grasped a taut nipple with his mouth. She groaned, her hands plunging into his hair as he supped on the remnants of their son's last meal.

"I will crave the taste of you until your return," he murmured against her. She caressed his head, her mind filled with loss and longing.

He began to grunt with every thrust and her body accepted his onslaught as he straightened, clutching her hips, driving into her as he pulled her to him.

"Gods," he cried, and she felt him pulse within her stretched walls. His come soaked her channel and slid in creamy rivulets down her buttocks.

"My heart will always be yours daughter," he said thickly, pulling her to him. Their bodies were still joined and she clung to him until she knew it was time to leave.

She watched him from the carriage window, his stance tall, but defeated. She watched until he was out of sight, his seed still warm and wet between her thighs.

The journey to Farentine took six weeks. Xxalia had never been a good traveller and she succumbed to the travel sickness. She longed for the day when she could stop the swaying motion. At first she wondered if it was morning sickness and in spite of how dreadful she felt was thrilled at the prospect of once again carrying her father's child. Her maids, however, had explained that to breastfeed was contraception in itself. "Stops further children while you give nourishment to the born," they'd said. Some days were better than others and she began to insist until Sharli, her favourite maid, confirmed she was without child with a quick, if not intrusive examination.

As the procession made its way to the palace, Xxalia saw the streets lined with Farentites. She smiled in wonder at their distinctly different appearance. Their long dark hair crowning their heads in wild tangles, their smooth skins a deep tan. Even from the confines of the carriage she could see their bright glistening green eyes.

She was eternally thankful and whispered a quick prayer to the gods at the journey's end. Weary and fatigued she emerged from the carriage a ghostly grey colour.

Her servants bustled about immediately and she marvelled at their sudden newfound vigour. The palace servants had joined hers in the effort to unload the carriages. Xxalia however, was met by a tall, regal looking man who bowed extremely low to her.

"Welcome to Farentine, Your Highness," he said in an exotic accent. He paled slightly at sight of her so she was quickly escorted up to the guest chambers. The physician ordered rest and she was soon blissfully asleep.

Due to her need for recovery, the formal banquet that was to be held was postponed and would be arranged as soon as she was stronger. The king and prince each sent their regards and hoped she improved quickly.

The banquet was held a week later, father and son had taken advantage of their guest's incapacitation and had seen an opportunity for a quick hunting trip. In spite of her reservations Xxalia was excited to be meeting her future husband. She'd seen portraits of him while growing up and saw even more as she wandered through the palace.

She dressed in a flowing blue gown that complemented her eyes and her maids accompanied her to the hall where a lone steward announced her arrival. The enormous doors opened to reveal a huge hall. A large table arranged in a horseshoe was filled with all manner of delicacies and gastronomical delights. The aroma was enticing and after several weeks of a simple and rather uninspiring diet she was anxious to try the new food.

She straightened her back and headed for the two taller chairs at the head of the horseshoe. All eyes were on her as she walked the length of the hallway. Farentine's noble and elite watching her with eyes filled with judgement.

"The Princess Xxalia of Corbelay," said another steward, one who stood next to the taller of the two chairs. The men, one distinctly older than the other looked down at her. She curtseyed deeply, keeping her face stoic. The older man, undoubtedly the king, was greying, the tangles of his hair shot with silver and white. His face was kind looking and weathered, but his green eyes sparkled with life. He seemed a lot older than her father and she was uncertain if she should meet him on terms of friendship or indifference. He smiled at her but she was unsure if it was a smile of welcome or victory.

Prince Bayu sat next to his father. The instant Xxalia had walked up to them he'd immediately sat up straighter. His long dark hair was the deepest shade of brown, his skin only slightly paler than that of his father. His eyes entranced her, their sea green depths holding hers and she felt her heart triple its pace. His smile was genuine, and she couldn't help but smile back.

The instant the meal was finished Bayu was at her side.

"Will you honour me with a dance?" he asked, his hand already held out to accept hers. The musicians had been playing discreetly in the background but now increased their volume as several couples took to the floor.

She gave him her hand and he swept her to the middle of the room, pulling her to him, pressing his hand in the small of her back. She swallowed her mouth suddenly dry.

"You look divine," he said softly, "Until this night I have only seen your portrait. Now I know for certain that the artist was indeed a terrible liar."

Xxalia flushed. His accent was intoxicating.

"Your Highness is very kind," she said meekly, "Might I add that your portraits were just as misleading."

"Indeed," he said and his hand suddenly stroked the line of her jaw. Xxalia gasped, her first instinct to pull away, but he held her fast, moving her across the floor to prevent her escape.

She thought of her father and instantly felt a surge of guilt.

"How is your father?" he asked suddenly and she felt her heart skip.

"Both he and my son are well," she replied, her guilt mounting as thoughts of her abandoned son entered her mind. The ache rose up fiercely and she pulled away again only to be held all the more tightly.

"It troubles you to think of them," he said, "May I some day have such a standing in your heart."

"Your Highness," she said, flustered and feeling suddenly light headed, "please, I require air."

"Of course," he said, leading her to one of the large open glass doors. He held her hand tightly as he pulled her down the stairs and out into the garden. The night was cool and Xxalia breathed in great gulps to cool the burning of her insides.

They came to a garden wall and he suddenly pressed her up against it. His mouth was over hers and he sought entrance with his tongue. Xxalia struggled, her small hands pushing against his firm chest. The kiss was strong and demanding but she started to feel herself melt against him. She smelled cologne and leather and the slightest hint of fresh hay. He let go of her, cupping her face and she found that her hands had gone to his back.

"I long for you," he whispered.

"Please Your Highness," she said, looking away, "My heart holds another."

"Your father," he said, almost bitterly, "Did he tell you why you had to come?"

"To save his life," she said without hesitation.

"To settle a debt," he corrected.

"I don't understand."

"Then you must come with me," he said and took her by the hand.

Xxalia was suddenly very frightened as he lead her through the palace, the sounds of the merriment fading as they walked through the corridors. She hadn't even realised that he'd been able to give her maids the slip.

He opened a grand old door and pulled her inside. It was dimly lit and full of books and scrolls. A library. The faint smell was similar to the library in her father's palace. The memory of the hours spent pouring over old laws sent a shiver up her spine.

"I am aware that you discovered a centuries old Corbelean law enabling a father to lie with his daughter as a husband does his wife," he said, scanning the shelves carefully.

"I did," she replied, "My father was without a suitable heir as I was betrothed. The law enabled me to give him the son he desired. I did so gladly."

"You'll find our laws here are not all that dissimilar," he said pulling down an ancient book and setting it on one of the tables. He found the page he was after and turned the book towards her to read, "Read from here," he said, pointing to a paragraph, "Aloud."

Xxalia looked at him for a moment before turning to the enormous tome. The language was old Farentine, but surprisingly similar to her own Corbelean.

"It is hereby declared; that a brother may wed and procure offspring within the family unit should a suitable wife be unattainable or have perished. Should a brother so desire he may take his unwed sister as wife and she to bear his children," she stopped suddenly, the words ringing in her ears. Just as Corbelay allowed a father to sleep with his daughter, Farentine allowed a brother to marry his sister.

She looked up to find Bayu holding a scroll. He held it out to her and she took it from him, her hands shaking. What did this mean?

She unravelled the old parchment and instantly recognised her father's signature at the bottom.

"Read it," said Bayu, his voice demanding.

"I, Trayk, King of Corbelay and all her peoples do solemnly vow that my only daughter, the Princess Xxalia, be affianced to the Crown Prince Bayu of Farentine," she stopped and looked up at him again, "I know this,"

"Keep reading," he said.

"For the act of treason and infidelity, I relinquish my paternal right to elect my said daughter's husband as penance for the abduction and subsequent marriage to Queen Anay of Farentine. Farentine?"

"Read," barked Bayu.

"By the honour of his Majesty King Dahl of Farentine, and his solemn wishes,the queen's only son, Crown Prince Bayu, shall have my daughter's hand once of age and be heralded under the laws of Farentine which state a brother may marry his sister... By the gods," whispered Xxalia as she dropped the scroll and looked up at Bayu.

"I am your brother by our mother Queen Anay. She was my father's Corbelean wife before your father stole her. For a long time I believed her dead until my father revealed the truth."

"But it makes no sense; my father met and fell in love my mother. He was grief stricken when she died."