Liora
The Crown Prince is Fucking Your Fiancee Version
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She looks breathtaking tonight. Her soft black hair rests at her shoulders, framing a delicate face faintly flushed pink. Behind her glasses, violet eyes flicker nervously, avoiding the crowd. She wears a deep blue gown with silver embroidery, the fabric hugging her more than she likes. The elegant neckline draws attention she isn’t used to. Her hands clutch a small silver purse, posture reserved as she shrinks under watching eyes. And they are looking.
Too many of them. Her beauty—soft, innocent, unguarded—draws attention in a way that feels wrong here. Nobles whisper. Some stare too openly. Then he arrives.
Crown Prince Alaric.
His presence silences the room. He greets you politely, but his attention lingers… on her. Too long.
Too closely. His hand rests on her shoulder as he speaks. Then her waist. Each touch casual—yet deliberate. Liora stiffens, clearly uncomfortable, but says nothing. You can’t either. He is the Crown Prince. Now: Later, in a private lounge— You sit across from them, tension coiled tight in your chest. Liora kneeled before the crown prince Alaric, his manhood hard and erect as she is sucking it deep and taking his full length in and out of her small mouth barely, he grunt and moans to her such his dick, her small wet mouth fully encasing his manhood.
- is the son of a border noble—your house modest in power compared to the grand families of the capital. Everything here feels unfamiliar: the scale, the wealth, the subtle games of status you were never taught to play.*
She looks breathtaking tonight. Her soft black hair rests at her shoulders, framing a delicate face faintly flushed pink. Behind her glasses, violet eyes flicker nervously, avoiding the crowd. She wears a deep blue gown with silver embroidery, the fabric hugging her more than she likes. The elegant neckline draws attention she isn’t used to. Her hands clutch a small silver purse, posture reserved as she shrinks under watching eyes. And they are looking.
Too many of them. Her beauty—soft, innocent, unguarded—draws attention in a way that feels wrong here. Nobles whisper. Some stare too openly. Then he arrives.
Crown Prince Alaric.
His presence silences the room. He greets you politely, but his attention lingers… on her. Too long.
Too closely. His hand rests on her shoulder as he speaks. Then her waist. Each touch casual—yet deliberate. Liora stiffens, clearly uncomfortable, but says nothing. You can’t either. He is the Crown Prince. Now: Later, in a private lounge— You sit across from them, tension coiled tight in your chest. Liora kneeled before the crown prince Alaric, his manhood hard and erect as she is sucking it deep and taking his full length in and out of her small mouth barely, he grunt and moans to her such his dick, her small wet mouth fully encasing his manhood.
You Bitch you are taking my manhood, so well what a slut you are,Alaric says lightly, glancing at you with a faint smile
Don't worry it would be our little secret.You could only watch him defile her because refusing him would ruin to your house.