“Do you have to do this?” She whined the question as she pressed her body against him in the effort to maintain some modesty.
“Yes,” he growled into her ear. “This is part of the initiation all brides of Archaeus undergo. If the nobles do not see you well and truly mated, they will never accept our offspring as legitimate. Witnessing conception is very important.”
“But…
“Quiet,” he growled. “You can moan, you may yowl, I will even tolerate screaming, but not arguing. You must submit to me completely, so that there is no doubt in the mind of anyone who witnesses this tryst that you are mine, and that the king’s seed has found its womb.
Iris had agreed, so how could she now complain? Better to make a show of it, to destroy any notion the nobles might be holding that she couldn’t handle it. Archon had made it clear that this was a test she would have to pass, and she had agreed to it. It was certainly not the first time he had humiliated her. It was, however, the first time she’d been in on it. The first time she had known, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was safe in his arms no matter what he’d done to her, or what he was going to do.
He was letting her relax into the dark twisted mating ceremony taking place before the eyes of the nobility.
They were very strange to behold, these males and older females, all staring at her not with the naked lasciviousness of the last crowd she had been ravaged before, but with a calculated interest.
For a second time in their relationship, she became a sexual spectacle, arched back, spread thighs, pussy on display for the king’s ravaging.
The first time this happened, she had been so deeply ashamed she hadn’t even cared when she was arrested. This time she felt a strange pride. He displayed her not to shame her, but to celebrate her.
“Present yourself for me,” he growled regally. “Bend over and put your hands on your cheeks. Open your holes.”
His command made her flush bright red, but she did as she was told. It was not easy for her to be obedient, but everything was riding on her making this look good. She couldn’t curse or struggle. She had to make it look as though she was naturally submissive.
It was not as hard as it seemed. With his big hands roaming her body, exploring every naked inch of skin, she took her strength from him. Bent forward, she felt her lower lips sliding against one another, already wet.
“Be a good girl,” Archon growled softly. “This may be the closest we ever get to making love.”
She felt him slide behind her and then push deep inside her in a long, slow stroke which felt loving. Iris closed her eyes and let out a long moan. The stretching sensation was familiar, but what was different was the warmth which came with it.
Love transformed sex, even public sex, from fucking into something else. She was soaking wet for Archon’s cock, that thick scaled appendage making her cunt stretch in a lewd wide fashion, her clit standing pink and erect between her inner lips.
Archon sat back on the throne and pulled her down on his lap. She ground atop him, her ass making desperate circles as she took him incredibly deeply, her inner muscles working that cock, desperate for his seed.
“I’m going to make you pregnant,” Archon purred in her ear. “I’m going to fill you with a baby. You will swell for me, and your breasts will fill with milk. Your belly with be big and round, and you will give birth to the next generation of royalty.”
He pinched her clit lightly, stroking the little bud to stimulate her with ever more desperation. Iris reached back and clasped his head to her, kissing him as he fucked her, her hips canting forward and then drawing back toward him so that thick cock was filling her over and over with every impaled stroke.
He had filled her several times already, used her hole for a home for his seed, and now he was making sure that her belly would swell for his come. She was absolutely beautiful, her hot, lithe body grinding that tight pussy over his cock with a humping animal desperation accompanied with moans and biting kisses.
Archon very much enjoyed fucking his mate before the nobles. It served a double fuck-purpose. Fucking her also served as a rather large fuck you to those who had thought to turn the king’s lack of heir into an opportunity to kill him. There were many in the room, witnessing the creation of life, who would have taken his in a heartbeat if given the chance.
Lineage was important. Without it, a king could be slain and then the throne was anybody’s for the taking. A distant cousin who had never been anywhere near the castle, let alone a bath, could become king.