In an instant, Augustus was sprawled on the bed, completely vulnerable. His body convulsed with involuntary twitches, remnants of the recent events that had transpired.
Meanwhile, Ryker reveled in the sensation of absolute dominance, savoring the surge of excitement and authority coursing through his veins. A sly chuckle escaped his lips, finding the unfolding scenario rather entertaining.
Ryker’s gaze lingered on the contours of Augustus’s form, a canvas of smooth and soft lines with subtle hints of toned muscles, almost inviting touch. Amid the chaos, it provided an unexpected source of comfort.
The aftermath of Augustus’s ordeal lay visible on his stomach, the evidence laid bare beneath a now futile veil. His hands remained bound to the wall, and even in unconsciousness, his breathing echoed a sense of heaviness. Intrigued, Ryker drew closer, studying Augustus’s features.
The once fierce and proud countenance of Augustus now appeared fragile and defenseless. Despite the inner turmoil, Ryker managed to suppress his laughter, resisting the urge to let a triumphant smile spread across his face.
The sight of the once arrogant prince rendered helpless and exposed brought a perverse satisfaction, as Ryker reveled in the repercussions of his actions.
Ryker’s fingers traced Augustus’s long, sweat-drenched hair, gently pushing aside strands to reveal the delicate features of his face. Every pore, every droplet of sweat along his jawline, became a source of delight for Ryker. The once beautiful features were now under his control, a canvas for him to manipulate.
Running his fingers through Augustus’s silky black hair, Ryker savored the sensation of its softness beneath his touch, each strand a tantalizing invitation. The olive hue of Augustus’s skin, kissed by the sun, spoke of hidden passions waiting to be unleashed, while his thick eyebrows hinted at a strength that lay just beneath the surface. With closed ruby eyes and full, inviting lips, Augustus exuded an air of serenity that only fueled Ryker’s desire.
Leaning in, Ryker’s nose brushed against Augustus’s lips, a silent invitation to the dance of their desires. The heady scent of honey and flowers hung in the air, an intoxicating aroma that stirred something primal within Ryker. Unable to resist any longer, he pressed his lips against Augustus’s, a soft yet insistent demand for surrender.
To his surprise, Augustus responded, his lips parting beneath Ryker’s kiss, a subtle invitation that sent a thrill coursing through Ryker’s veins. With a low groan of satisfaction, Ryker deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with Augustus’s in a dance as old as time.
Pulling back, Ryker drank in the sight of Augustus’s slumbering form, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. It was a rare moment of vulnerability that ignited a fierce possessiveness within Ryker, his desire to claim Augustus as his own burning ever brighter.
Shifting his attention, Ryker trailed kisses down Augustus’s neck, savoring the taste of his skin. Each touch left a mark, a crimson brand of ownership that sent a shiver of anticipation down Ryker’s spine. With each kiss, he marked Augustus as his, leaving no doubt as to who held dominion over him.
The cascade of kisses continued, a trail of fire and desire that led Ryker ever closer to his prize. With each touch, each caress, he stoked the flames of passion, until Augustus’s slumbering form became a canvas for his desire, a testament to the raw hunger that burned within him.
Amidst this encounter, an abrupt knock shattered the moment, and Ryker looked up to find a guard at the door. “His Majesty has summoned you to the throne room. It is urgent,” the guard announced, breaking the spell of Ryker’s intoxication.
Ryker’s gaze burned with a mixture of desire and frustration as he met the guard’s stern look, the urgency in the man’s voice slicing through the charged atmosphere of the room. “Your presence is demanded, Your Highness. There’s an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention,” the guard’s voice held a note of command, his eyes unwavering as they bore into Ryker’s.
With a begrudging sigh, Ryker tore his gaze away from the insensate Augustus, his impatience palpable as he considered the interruption. The unfinished exploration of the vulnerable prince beckoned to him, a temptation he was loath to resist.
“Very well,” Ryker responded, his tone tinged with resignation as he reluctantly tore himself away from Augustus’s slumbering form. But before he departed, he couldn’t resist one final act of intimacy, one last mark to remind Augustus of his dominance.
Pressing his body against Augustus’s, Ryker ground his hips against him, a primal display of possession. His teeth sank into Augustus’s shoulder, leaving a mark of ownership, while his lips captured his skin in a searing kiss, branding him once more with his semen.
With a final lingering look at the prince, Ryker reluctantly released him, leaving his form sprawled on the bed, the once-purple veil now stained a stark white. As he made his exit, a sly chuckle escaped his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the unwitting witness to their forbidden encounter.
“Inform the king that I will be there immediately,” Ryker instructed, breaking the guard’s stunned silence. The guard, his mouth slightly agape and eyes filled with confusion, nodded quickly, eager to escape the unconventional scene. He promptly left the chamber, carrying with him the unusual message to deliver to the awaiting king.
Immediately following, a tentative knock disrupted the unsettling atmosphere of the chamber as the chambermaid sought permission to enter.
Her inquiry revolved around whether Ryker wished for Augustus to be cleaned. Observing Augustus, now stained with his semen, Ryker burst into laughter. As the maids filed into the room to attend to Ryker’s cleanliness, some couldn’t help but blush at the unexpected exposure.
“No, let him be,” Ryker declared, dismissing any notion of cleaning Augustus.
The chambermaid, with a hesitant demeanor, pointed out, “He’s soaked with sweat as well,” drawing attention to Augustus’s drenched body, a consequence of the intense session in the room. “It’s already been quite some time since he’s rested, and we would hate to cause him any discomfort.” The concern for the prince’s well-being and comfort was palpable on the chambermaid’s worried face.
As the chambermaid voiced her concern for Augustus, the room fell into a heavy silence. Ryker’s impatience flared, evident in the tension that hung in the air.
The chambermaid, undeterred by the unsettling atmosphere, continued to plead for the prince’s comfort, her voice a fragile note in the room.
Ignoring her plea, Ryker’s actions took a sudden, violent turn. Swiftly drawing his gun, he shot her without hesitation, sending shockwaves through the chamber.
Amidst the screams of the terrified maids, one managed to remain composed, though her face paled. Unperturbed by the chaos he had unleashed, Ryker inquired about her name, his tone cutting through the aftermath of the unexpected violence.
Frozen with fear, the maid stammered, “Y-Yao… I’m named Yao,” her voice trembling in tandem with the adrenaline coursing through her body.
“You’re the new chambermaid,” Ryker stated, casually putting on his cloak. “Learn from other people’s mistakes.”
Yao nodded, her fear evident as she stammered, “Ye-yes, Your Highness! I will obey your orders.”
“Good,” Ryker smiled sweetly, a stark contrast to the recent violence, making him look even more intimidating. “Now get out, all of you.”
As the other servants hurriedly left, Yao stared at Ryker with wide eyes, still shaken from the recent events. Bowing her head, she uttered, “Yes, Your Highness,” before rushing out alongside the rest of the servants.
Turning away from the disheveled tableau, Ryker shifted his focus to Augustus’s sprawled body on the bed.
A mixture of sweat and Ryker’s semen clung to Augustus, creating a melancholic scene. Augustus’s mouth hung open, traces of dried saliva clinging to his lips, his limp form bearing witness to the recent events.
Stains marred his clothes, a morose combination of sweat and intimate marks casting a somber hue. The red bite marks on his neck morphed into dark and purplish hues, tangible proof of Ryker’s possession. Nearby, the once-purple veil lay discarded, now marked by their encounter in a sticky residue.
Shaking his head at the aftermath, Ryker left the room, closing the door behind him. A whirlwind of emotions accompanied him as he chuckled at the repercussions of what he had done to his once beautiful prince.
Wandering through the palace halls, Ryker encountered the guard, who wore a concerned expression. “Your Highness, the king is waiting for you,” the guard informed him.
Ryker, still entertained by the consequences of his actions, nodded in acknowledgment and followed the guard, bracing himself for the impending meeting with the king.
