Chapter 18: The princesses finally claim what's theirs, defying all rules as they take turns filling Briana's tight virgin cunt with their cocks, marking her as their shared wife.
The heavy door of the bedchamber closed with a soft, final click, sealing away the world. The silence it left behind was enormous, vibrating with what they had just done. Hannah stood with her back against the carved wood, the weight of her crown suddenly insufferable. She lifted her hands and removed it, a simple gold band, placing it on a side table with a quiet tap.
“We just told the Crown we’re refusing the suitors,” she said, her voice hollow in the spacious room.
“We did,” Kiara confirmed, unclasping the diamond necklace at her throat. “Via your terrifying aunt. Who, for the record, looked like she’d swallowed a wasp.”
Briana moved to the window, pushing aside the silk curtain to stare into the dark gardens. “She looked at me like I was the wasp.” She turned, her hazel eyes catching the candlelight. “Your father’s going to lose his mind, Hannah.”
“I know.” Hannah’s assertive facade crumbled. She wrapped her arms around herself. “But I can’t. I can’t go through with that farce. Not after… not after this. Not after you.”
Kiara crossed the room, the thick rug muffling her steps. She stopped before Hannah, her playful mask gone, replaced by raw vulnerability. “Look at me,” she whispered. When Hannah raised her eyes, Kiara continued. “All my life, I’ve stood beside you. As your friend, your shield, your companion. Watching you prepare for a destiny that felt like a slow death. And all that time, I was dying too, Hannah. Because I have been in love with you since we were sixteen and you stole a bottle of champagne from the summer solstice banquet for us to share by the lake.”
The confession hung in the perfumed air, stark and beautiful. Hannah’s breath hitched.
“And I,” Briana’s voice came from across the room, steady and clear, “am in love with both of you. With your ridiculous, privileged world and your genuine, tangled hearts. It’s mad. It’s impossible.”
Hannah let out a shaky sob that was also a laugh. “Everything is impossible. So why not this?”
She reached for Kiara, her fingers tangling in the sleek fabric of her dress at her waist. She pulled her close, their bodies colliding, and kissed her. It was not a princess’s kiss. It was hungry, desperate, a lifetime of suppressed want breaking free. Kiara groaned into her mouth, hands flying to Hannah’s face, holding her as if she might vanish.
Briana watched, her own desire a sharp, hot wire in her gut. She saw Kiara’s hands slide down, fumbling with the intricate buttons at the back of Hannah’s gown. She moved then, coming up behind Hannah. “Let me,” she murmured, her fingers deft and sure where Kiara’s trembled. She worked the fastenings, and the heavy gown sighed open, pooling at Hannah’s feet.
Hannah stepped out of it, standing in just her thin chemise. She turned to Briana, capturing her lips next. Briana’s kiss was different—all heat and confident pressure, tasting of mint and rebellion. Her hands slid down Briana’s sides, gripping the cheap cotton of her waitress uniform, now absurd in the opulent room. “Off,” Hannah commanded, the royal authority giving way to a husky need.
They undressed each other, a tangle of eager hands and discarded fabrics. Luxury silk mixed with simple cotton on the floor. The candlelight danced over skin: Hannah’s fair, reserved complexion now flushed with passion; Kiara’s sun-kissed, eager warmth; Briana’s captivating caramel glow.
They stumbled toward the vast bed, a monument to dynastic matrimony, now destined for a different sacrament. Kiara laid Hannah back against the pillows, her mouth finding the frantic pulse at her throat, then lower, taking a taut nipple between her lips. Hannah arched, a sharp cry escaping her. Her fingers threaded through Kiara’s hair.
“Fuck, Kiara…”
Briana knelt beside them, her eyes dark. She watched Kiara worship Hannah’s breast, then leaned in to trace the shell of Hannah’s ear with her tongue. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” Briana breathed. “All that control, gone. Just feel it.”
Her hand skimmed down Hannah’s trembling stomach, through the soft thatch of curls, and found her wet and hot. Hannah jolted, her hips rising off the mattress.
“Please,” Hannah gasped, the word a broken thing.
Briana didn’t make her wait. She slid two fingers inside her, a smooth, deep invasion that made Hannah scream. Briana set a relentless rhythm, her thumb circling Hannah’s clit as she fucked her with steady, penetrating strokes. “Is this what you wanted, Princess?” Briana growled, her own breath coming fast. “A taste of something real?”
“Yes! God, yes, Briana, don’t stop…”
Kiara moved down, replacing Briana’s thumb with her mouth. Her tongue was soft, then firm, laving and sucking as Briana’s fingers pistoned inside. The dual assault was overwhelming. Hannah’s world narrowed to the devastating pressure building in her core, to the sight of Kiara’s head between her legs, to the feel of Briana’s strong hand working her over the edge.
“I’m gonna come,” Hannah warned, her voice strangled. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming!”
The climax ripped through her, violent and shattering. Her back bowed off the bed, a endless wave of pulsing pleasure melting her bones. Briana gentled her fingers, coaxing her through it, while Kiara kissed her inner thigh.
As Hannah floated down, breathless, Kiara crawled up her body, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself. Hannah responded sluggishly, then with growing urgency. She rolled them, pinning Kiara beneath her. “My turn,” she said, her eyes blazing.
She kissed down Kiara’s body, but Briana intercepted her. “Let me show you,” Briana said, her voice low. She guided Hannah, positioning her between Kiara’s thighs. “Watch her face.”
Hannah lowered her mouth to Kiara’s center, using what Briana showed her. Kiara’s hands fisted in the sheets immediately. “Hannah… yes, just like that.” Hannah licked and sucked, learning what made Kiara whimper and buck. Briana watched, then shifted, bringing her own sex to Hannah’s mouth from the opposite direction. Hannah turned her head, taking Briana in with equal fervor, her tongue delving deep.
The room filled with the sounds of their pleasure: wet, slick sounds, ragged breathing, and fractured curses. The air grew thick and humid. Kiara came first, shouting Hannah’s name as her hips stuttered wildly against Hannah’s mouth. Moments later, Briana followed, her cries muffled by her own arm as she bit down, her body trembling.
They collapsed together in a heap of slick limbs and shared warmth, the colossal bed finally serving a purpose that felt true. For a long time, only the sound of their slowing breaths filled the space.
Hannah traced the line of Briana’s jaw. “What have we done?” she whispered, not with regret, but with awe.
“We’ve chosen,” Kiara said, her head on Hannah’s shoulder.
“They won’t accept it,” Briana stated, staring at the canopy above. “My existence is the problem. A commoner. A woman.”
Hannah’s arm tightened around her. “Then we don’t ask for acceptance. We just… are.”
A hard knock at the door shattered the intimate silence. It was not a request, but a demand.
“Your Highness.” It was the Steward’s voice, cold and formal through the wood. “His Majesty the King commands your immediate presence in the Council Chamber. He is aware of the message from Lady Tamia. He… is waiting.”
The warmth leached from the room. The future, in all its frightening consequence, was now hammering at the door.
Hannah sat up, the queenly mantle settling back over her shoulders, though her lips were still swollen and her body hummed with their touch. She looked at Kiara, then at Briana, her gaze fierce.
“Then let’s not keep him waiting,” she said.