The heretic princess
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
BONUS
Warnings: explicit descriptions of sex (male x female).
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Your heart beats rapidly in your chest and you swallow down your nerves as his hands move to the straps of your dress. You let him slide them down your shoulders, your chest, all the way down to your waist and your core heats up at the hungry look in his eyes.
“Wow,” he breathed, taking in the beautiful curves of your breasts. He brushed his thumbs gently across your nipples and you sucked in a breath as they hardened at his touch. His hands drifted back down to your waist and he scrunched your dress in his hands before pulling it up over your head.
You clasp your hands together and lower your gaze shyly as a warm flush creeps over your entire body. But Miguel takes your wrists and gently pulls your arms apart, exposing you to him fully. You glance up at him and gasp when he slides his hands around your waist and pulls you back to him. He smiles at your reaction and lowers his lips back to yours, kissing you softly as his hands wander down your body. He curls his fingers around your behind and your entire body brushes up against his as you stretch onto your toes in response.
“Sit down.” He pushed your hips back slightly and you obediently sank down onto the edge of his mattress. Gods, you were adorable.
You reach up to undo the knot around his waist, your stomach flipping wildly as you recall the lessons Aaliyah had given you. She’d joined the temple a while before you and though she was only a few years older than you, she had already experienced so much more of the world than you had. Which was why Iset had asked her to instruct you on exactly how to take care of the young king once he invited you into his bed. But then Miguel put his hand on top of yours, stopping you before you could expose him to you. You look up at him in question and your heart speeds up at the look he gives you.
“Not yet, princess.” He shakes his head and takes a small step away from you. “I want to touch you first. Lie back.”
You do as he says and shuffle up the bed, laying back in anticipation of his touch. Miguel licks his lips as he undoes his robes himself, his eyes swallowing your body whole. He tosses the cloth aside and you gulp nervously at the sight of his thick length, already hard for you. Then suddenly, you laugh. Miguel raises an eyebrow as he crawls over you, his tanned skin glowing so beautifully under the oil lamps, and your body tingles with excitement at the sight of his smirk.
“What?” he asked, settling himself comfortably over you. You slid your hands up his chest and around his neck and his core tightened at the feeling of your hands on his bare skin.
“Nothing, I just … This feels so naughty.” You whispered the last part with a cheeky smile and he felt his heart melt at how adorable you looked beneath him. He propped himself up on one elbow and reached out with his other hand to brush your hair behind your ear.
“It feels right to me,” he murmurs, his voice low and relaxed. You feel your centre start heating up at the truth of his words, then your eyes widen as a sudden thought strikes you.
“Miguel …” you stammer, trying to maintain an unbothered composure: it wouldn't do good to make yourself seem like the jealous type. He was king now, after all, he couldn't be expected to rely on just one woman to carry his children. “Have you … Have you ever done it before?”
You see the way his Adam's apple bobs at your question and your pulse quickens with nerves as his eyes drift away from yours.
“I don't mind!” you added quickly, not even noticing that his gaze had fallen to the slender column of your neck. “I just don't want to-”
“No,” he replied, his eyes continuing to make their way down your body. You were so soft beneath him and his mouth was starting to water at the way you were pressed up against him like a little pillow.
“W-What?” you stutter, taken aback by his response. Miguel lifts his gaze back to yours and you feel something leak out of you at the smug smirk on his face.
“Why do you look so surprised, princess?” he asks, running his fingers through your hair again. You turn your gaze away from his, embarrassed by your assumption.
“No, I … I just …” You trail off as a delighted smile overtakes your features and Miguel snickers softly at your reaction.
“Now you look pleased,” he comments, turning your face gently back towards his. You bite your lip, trying to stifle your grin, but it’s no use.
“Well, I … I knew it was unreasonable to expect, but … I had secretly hoped we would be each other’s firsts,” you admitted softly, causing his lips to stretch wide in a smile. You raised your eyebrows, puzzled by his response. “Now you’re the one who looks pleased.”
He chuckled at your comment, then ran his hand down to your breast, his fingers brushing softly against your bare skin. He’d definitely wanted to be your first. Your first, your last and everything in between. He wouldn’t let any other man ever touch you, no one but him.
You gasp when he squeezes you gently, then shiver at the groan that rumbles out of his chest at the feeling of your hips pressing up against his. He bends over to pepper the side of your neck with open-mouthed kisses and you trail your nails down his back, admiring the feeling of his taut muscles flexing under your touch. Miguel moves his mouth lower, his lips and tongue making their way down your collarbone, then he pulls your nipple into his mouth.
He let out a low groan as you arched your back, your stiff peak so delicious against his tongue. Gods, you were perfect. He moved his hand to your other breast and gently kneaded your plush flesh while his tongue continued its languid movements around your nipple. He could feel himself swelling up at the sound of your desperate gasps and whines as you wriggled beneath him. Finally, he sat back, unable to take it any longer, then reached down to start pushing himself inside of you.
You bite down on a yelp as he enters you, trying to mask your discomfort at the feeling: you needed him to release his seed inside of you. That way, as Iset had reminded you time and time again, no one would be able to stop you from being married. You clench your fists, trying to focus on your breathing as Miguel continues to force his large bulk into you. Then eventually, you realise that he’s stopped.
“Kitty?” he asks softly. You open your eyes to find him hovering over you, a concerned look on his face. “What’s wrong?”
You force your lips into a smile and rub his shoulders soothingly. “Why did you stop, my love?”
His stomach flipped at the word and he felt himself start leaking at the feeling of having your wet core wrapped around him as you’d said it. But he forced himself to sit back and his lips pursed with nerves as he looked down at you. “You … did not seem to be enjoying it.”
Your heart thudded in your chest with fear. Was he upset with you? Would he change his mind and decide that he didn’t want you after all? You swallow the disheartening thoughts down, keeping the smile plastered on your features.
“I am!” you reassure him enthusiastically. “I just … I am not quite used to it just yet. Keep going! I’ll be fine.”
You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to distract him, but he didn’t miss the hint of discomfort that escaped your otherwise delighted expression. The women had mentioned that his lover might struggle at first to hold him - especially if they had never been with another man before - but they’d reassured him that it would quickly pass. In fact, they had been more focused on his pleasure than anything else. But he didn’t want to be the only one enjoying it; he wanted you to enjoy it too. He wanted to see your features overcome with lust as the two of you joined together so intimately. He did not want it to hurt you. He studied your features again, your expression relaxing as you slowly got used to the feeling of holding him inside of you.
“I’ll go slower,” he decides finally, his tone still slightly unconvinced as he leans over you again. “Tell me if it hurts.”
You nod quickly and wrap your arms around his torso, bracing yourself for the next impact. But true to his word, Miguel went slow, carefully pulling himself out of you before gently sliding back in. You bite your lip as your body starts heating up, and your hips start moving against his, delighting in the feeling of his tip pressing against your insides. Miguel increases his pace a little, the muscles in his arms tensing as he holds himself back from going too fast, and your brain soon turns numb with arousal.
He pulled back slightly, wanting to take note of your features and see if you were trying to hide your pain again. But the look on your face was exactly as he’d imagined so many times: blissful, unfocused, completely overcome by desire. He grinned and lowered his forehead to yours, bringing your mouths just centimetres apart. Your breath grazed his lips as he pumped himself harder into you and his every nerve lit up with excitement. Then, just when he thought he’d reached the peak of his pleasure, you shuddered, your core squeezing him so desperately that all semblance of thought flew out of his mind. He gasped as he released his seed inside of you, then groaned when you dragged your nails down his back in response. He settled himself on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, and the two of you lay quietly in each other’s arms, the only sounds the panting of your breaths.
“I tried to bring you back, you know.” Miguel’s sudden confession breaks the silence and you hold your breath as you wait for him to continue.
He shifts your positions so you’re lying side-by-side instead, your bodies intertwined together on his bed. Then he continues.
“Kai and I visited the temple numerous times,” he admits softly, a look of sorrow overcoming his features as he thinks about your time apart. Then his expression rearranges into one of anger. “But the High Priestess would always turn us away. She’d make up some excuse that you were busy studying or performing some sort of ritual or some other such nonsense.”
He pulls you tighter against him and this time, his lips stretch into a smug smile. “But now I am king. And she can refuse me no longer.”
You snicker softly at how pleased he seems with himself, then you reach up to run your fingers through his hair. “You will be a good king, duckie. Smart and firm and protective of your people.”
“And you will be the perfect queen, kitty,” he added quickly, wanting to remind you of the promise you’d made to him. “Kind and sweet and merciful. I won’t marry anyone but you, kitty. You will be the only wife I will take.”
Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest at his words, but you calm it down, not wanting to let yourself get too excited.
“You do not … have to make such a promise to me, Miguel,” you stammer out, hearing yourself how unconvincing you sound. “I understand … that-”
“There is nothing to understand, kitty,” Miguel reassures you, his hand gliding up and down your side. “This is something I decided a while ago. I will not … No, I refuse … to put such … to put you through such pain. I will not have my precious little kitten lying alone in our bed at night thinking about what I am doing with some other woman on the other side of the palace.”
You could feel his fury growing with every word that came out of his mouth and though it pleased you to hear his earnestness, you did not want to spend this moment alone together with him losing his temper.
“I'll hold you to it, duckie,” you warn him, twisting your fingers into the sofa strands of his hair. He takes your hand in his and brings it to his mouth to place a kiss on your fingers.
“I love you, Y/N,” he tells you, eyes wide with sincerity. “I-”
A steady knock sounded on the outer doors, interrupting him before he could continue. Miguel frowned and waited until the doors had opened and shut again before he called out to their intruder. “What?!”
“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty,” the slightly shaky voice sounded from just outside the bedroom. “Your father has requested you return to the Great Hall. And he demanded you bring the princess back as well.”
There was a knowing tone in his voice, letting both you and Miguel know that his father had guessed exactly what you'd gotten up to when you'd left the Great Hall. You curled up against Miguel, blushing from head to toe, but you couldn't hide your thrilled smile at the hint of amusement in the message: the old king approved of your union. You look up at Miguel and his irritation quickly fades as his eyes land on your delighted grin. He presses a kiss to your forehead and the two of you get up to start getting dressed again. You say nothing more as you follow the servant back to the Great Hall, but the two of you continue to shoot each other pleased smiles as you walk down the corridors.
“Wait, kitty.” Miguel stops you before you can turn the corner, catching your hand in his. You turn back to face him, your eyebrows raised in question, and he tugs you closer to him. “I shall announce to the court tomorrow my intention to marry you. I will have the servants prepare the rooms next to my own for you to sleep in tonight. I will not let you return to the temple, my love.”
Your breath catches in your throat the the term of endearment - and at the rooms he has selected for you; the rooms reserved for his future queen, whose private chamber connected to his own through a hidden door.
His chest warms at the wide smile you struggle to conceal. He bends over to press a quick kiss to your lips and his heart melts at the soft giggle that escapes your mouth as he pulls away.
“I love you, duckie,” you said, meeting his gaze shyly. He grinned at your declaration and turned you back to the doors, twining his fingers between yours so everyone would know of his intentions towards you. You were his now - you had always been his - and he would make sure everyone knew it.
“I believe that the Lady Dina would make a fine bride for the Prince,” the Chief Royal Advisor suggested. “She has been trained in the ways of the Royal Family since a young age and she is well-liked by the people.”
Miguel bit down his scoff, but was unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes. The men had assembled in the room sometime in the late morning, opening up their daily meeting of the current state of affairs. As it always did, however, the main focus had quickly turned to the topic of his marriage. And as he always did, the Chief Royal Advisor had immediately started trying to sell his daughter off to the young King. Miguel straightened and hastened to interrupt the old man before he could continue.
“I have decided who I shall marry,” he announced suddenly, prompting the room to fall silent as they waited for him to continue. Miguel inhaled slowly, steeling himself for their responses to what he was about to say next. “I have decided to make the Princess Y/N my bride.”
A wave of gasps swept through the room and Miguel clenched his fists, allowing the sting of his nails against his palms to wash away his nerves at any objections he might encounter. He continued quickly before anyone could speak out against his decision. “Not only has she been trained in the ways of the palace since young, but she is also the last living descendent of the preceding Royal Family. If anyone were to ever try to challenge my claim to the throne, their arguments would fall on deaf ears, for who can be more royal than the last true princess of the kingdom herself?”
He stopped to meet the gazes of each of the men around the room, daring them to argue with him. But of course, who would dare to challenge the king? Miguel slid his gaze over to the Chief Royal Advisor, thinking about his earlier words.
“And she has always been well-liked not only by our own people, but by our allies as well,” Miguel added. He twisted his head around to catch his father’s eye, seeking his agreement. “Surely, father, you remember how seriously she always took her studies? Languages and diplomacy and all the skills a queen would need to ensure the prosperity of her people?”
The King narrowed his eyes in thought, his expression unreadable. Although his son had made a number of reasonable justifications for taking the princess as his wife - and queen - he still remembered the teenage boy who’d marched into his study and demanded he bring his friend back. He decided to remain silent, however, wanting to see how his son would react to any dissent amongst his people.
His heart thudded with apprehension at his father’s silence and he turned back to the rest of his audience.
“Politically speaking, there is no better choice for Queen in all of the kingdom,” Miguel finished, cementing his point. He looked around the room, studying everyone’s expressions carefully. A wave of relief washed over him as he noticed how they seemed to be becoming more and more convinced by the idea of making you his queen. But then the Chief Royal Advisor piped up again.
“Well, the princess is still only sixteen. Surely, we can wait until she is a little older?” The older man spun around, checking to gauge the reactions of his counterparts. “Lady Dina is already eighteen - only a year younger than Your Majesty. Would it not be better for you to marry her first and then take the princess as your second wife a year or two later?”
Miguel grinded his teeth at the Advisor’s insistence. He gripped his armrests and focused on steadying his breathing, conjuring up an image of your sweet smile to calm him down. It wouldn’t help his case if he were to get upset and throw a tantrum like a child would - that would only make them more convinced that he still needed them to make decisions on his behalf. The room filled with whispers of agreement from the other members of the court and Miguel felt his body heat up with a mixture of rage and fear: he’d promised you that you would be the only wife he would take. But perhaps that was a battle best saved for another day; for now, he had another weapon in his arsenal. He cleared his throat, commanding the room’s attention once again.
“The princess … might not be able to afford to wait an entire year,” he admitted, shooting the crowd a knowing look. The air left the room as everyone sucked in a collective gasp. He’d visited your rooms again last night, once the feast had ended and you’d settled into your new accommodation. There hadn’t been much to catch up on, given all the letters the two of you had exchanged in the time you’d been gone, so it hadn’t been long before he’d removed your dress and laid you down on the bed to begin making love to you again. His body buzzed with excitement as he remembered how soft your curves had felt between his fingers, the beautiful glow that had coloured your cheeks as you’d laid beneath him and the delicious warmth of your core, holding him tightly as he’d released another wave of his seed into you. He lowered his head, trying to hide the smile that tugged on his lips, and his father took over, silencing the now clamorous crowd.
“My son has made his decision,” the King declared. “We shall make the announcement at the end of the week and begin the preparations tomorrow.”
He dismissed everyone from the room and Miguel turned to leave as well, but stopped in his tracks when his father called him back. “My son! Stop right there!"
Miguel avoided his father’s gaze as they waited for the room to clear. His father’s most valuable - and infamous - trait had always been his ability to hide his thoughts, so he couldn’t possibly guess at why he’d demanded to speak to him in private.
The King walked over to Miguel and his lips curled into an amused smirk as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I thought training to be a good king was more important than ensuring the passage of your seed?”
Miguel’s cheeks heated up with embarrassment at his father’s recitation of his own words. “Well, I … I was not … so opposed to it if … if the right opportunity presented itself.”
“Mmm,” the King agreed, glad that someone had finally managed to sneak past his son’s stoic demeanour. “So! When should I expect my first grandchild?”
Miguel shook his head as they began walking out of the room together, but if he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t wait to see you all filled up with his child, waddling around so adorably as you worked hard to grow your baby inside of you. He couldn’t wait to tell you the news.
“So?” Aaliyah asked once the two of you had finished celebrating your reunion. “How was your first time? Was it everything you imagined it would be?”
You swooned as the two of you sat on your bed, remembering being pressed up against Miguel’s naked body. “Oh, Aaliyah. It was so much better!”
Aaliyah’s eyes lit up with excitement for you and she shot up to a seat. “What happened?”
You blushed and reached for another grape before replying.
“It hurt at first, but he was so gentle, Aaliyah! He said he’d go slowly, until I was comfortable with it.” You stop to pop the grape in your mouth, leaving her in a suspense as to what happened following Miguel’s demand that you move into the rooms next to his. “And then he visited me again after the feast!”
Aaliyah grabs onto your arms as the two of you squeal together in delight, then you both freeze as a knock sounds on your door.
“Princess!” Meena exclaims, hurrying into your bedroom with wide eyes. “It is the King! He is here to see you!”
“Miguel?” you ask, surprised that he would visit you in the middle of the day. Meena nods and starts ushering Aaliyah out of the room, giving you some privacy. You rush to arrange your dress as you sit back on your pillows, getting into a position that was tempting without being overly seductive.
He grinned when his gaze landed on you, his stomach flipping over at the sight of you sitting sweetly on your bed as you waited for him. But he restrained himself from going over to you until Meena had shut the doors behind him.
“Kitty,” he breathes, his eyes wild with excitement as he sinks onto the mattress beside you. “I told the court of my intention to marry you …”
Your breath catches in your throat as he takes your hands in his and your heart thuds nervously in your chest as you wait for him to continue.
“And they approved!” he revealed, not wanting to spoil the moment by getting into the details of why, exactly, they’d approved of you so quickly. Your eyes lit up with joy and Miguel felt his heart flutter in response.
“Oh, duckie! That is wonderful news, my darling!” You rub your thumbs across the backs of his hands, trying to contain your excitement, but then he leans forward to press his lips to yours, and you soon find yourself out of breath from his passionate kisses.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Miguel murmurs, his hands beginning to wander over your body as he speaks between kisses. “I told you that I wouldn’t let anyone else take you away from me ever again, didn’t I, my darling kitten?”
You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, climbing onto his lap as your kisses start to get more heated.
“Miguel,” you giggle, pulling back when his hands start sliding beneath the hem of your dress. “Are you not busy today, my love?”
His lips stretched into a wide smile at your term of affection. He still couldn’t believe that you loved him in just the same way that he loved you. He ran his hands along the sides of your waist, then set you back down on the bed. “I have a few things I must take care of. But I will see you tonight?”
You cup his cheek in your hand and brush your thumb across his stubbled jaw, admiring the eager expression on his face. He’d already made love to you twice before you’d even gotten married and now he was asking to do it again? You’d get pregnant before your wedding celebrations had even started at this rate! “Of course, my darling. I love you, duckie.”
His chest warmed at your tender declaration. “I love you too, my little kitten.”
