Birthday Gift
Kinkmas Day 2: Titty Fucking
Pairing: Prince!Human!Neteyam x Maid!Human!Reader
Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Tit fucking, Slight dirty talk, Slight possessive/obsessive behavior and language, Cumming on chest/tits
Word Count: 2.3K
A/N: Dedicated to @tsewtx for creating this fantastic AU. Love you, Wren! Catch up on Royalty AU here!
Summary: (Royalty AU) Prince Neteyam receives a lot of fine gifts for his birthday, but the only thing he really wants is you on your knees and your perfect tits around his cock.
Prince Neteyam always receives many gifts for his birthday.
He is recipient to the finest jewelry, made from precious metals and adorned with a multitude of diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires. Amongst the small mountains of gold and silver crafted pieces, hang other pieces of lavish clothing - soft, silk dress shirts in multiple colors, intricate waistcoats that look like they took a lifetime to create.
A new pair of leather riding boots that would look good on him, but that look amazing on you.
“C’mon, y/n,” He mumbles, dark eyes glittering with desire as they trace along your standing figure. “Show me the new things I own,”
You stand in front of him, clad only in an unbuttoned emerald green silk shirt that falls halfway down your thighs and the leather boots that hug your legs until just below the knee, the little buckles on the sides clanking with each step you take as you walk uncertainty towards him, giving him a small twirl when he silently moves his pointer finger in a circle.
He grins at your hesitance. So many years of doing this with him, being his good girl, his whore, the perfect little maid for his majesty - and you’re still so shy, like somehow you’re not 100% positive that he's completely and utterly obsessed with you.
“You don’t have to be bashful,” He says, leaning forwards so he can rest his forearms on his thighs as he gazes at the expanse of soft skin on display, both between the gap of the shirt hem and boots as well as the tempting sliver of smooth, markable canvas shown between the open button down. “You know you’re the most beautiful woman alive.”
The flush on your face and the way you can’t meet his eyes make his cock even harder in his trousers. The hard length pushes at the tight material, threatening to burst the seams. Neteyam stands, eager to be closer to you, to touch you, and relieve some of the pressure. He crosses the room, tall figure towering over yours as he stares down at you, eyes filled with heat as he grips your jaw in his large hand, possessively.
“You look so pretty in my clothing,” He murmurs, tilting your head up so your plump lips brush against his.
“Thank you, your highness,”
Neteyam’s lips are warm against yours as he kisses you, the soft press of his mouth against yours is enough to make your breathing stutter no matter how many times it’s happened before. His lips slide across your cheek, laying gentle kiss after gentle kiss along the heated skin as he makes his way to your ear. His breath is hot against the curve as he breathes, “Are you going to be a good girl for me and give me my present?”
You nod, voice struggling to manifest when he nibbles on the shell of your ear, and you’re just able to force out a squeaky, “Yes, highness,”
He kisses you again, this time a little harder, a little more needy. His free hand moves to brush the soft material of the shirt to the side, revealing one of your breasts to his hungry gaze and brushing his thumb over your hard nipple, before pulling back and biting his bottom lip with a wicked smirk.
“Undress me then,”
His long fingers tease along the sensitive skin of your thigh as you work carefully on undoing the clasps of his shirt. Your delicate hands push the material off of his broad shoulders, revealing the toned expanse of his chest and your eyes can’t help the way they zero in on the excited rise and fall of his chest and the muscles that shift under his skin. The necklace around his neck shifts in time with his breaths, the small thin golden band he had made for you years ago threaded through the chain lays next to his heart - exactly where it should be, he tells you, until he’s able to put it on your finger officially.
The metal glistens in the low light of the room, contrasting beautifully against his dark skin, but your eyes are pulled away from the sight when his hand cups your jaw again.
“Going a bit slow, aren’t we?” He chuckles, lips brushing against yours with each word. “You know it’s not fair to tease the birthday boy.”
His hands grip yours, warm palms dragging your own across the strong muscles of his chest and down the flat planes of his stomach until they reach the waistband of his pants. He keeps one of your hands there, and your fingertips gently caress the skin just above the fabric. He guides your other hand down further until you’re cupping his bulge, feeling the thick hardness in your hand.
“Feel how hard I am for you?” He murmurs, hand tightening around yours to make your fingers curl around him through the taut material. “Need you so much.”
“I’ll take good care of you,” You promise.
Your hands expertly work at the fastenings on his trousers, his length jumping out and slapping against his belly, long and thick and beautiful in its glory. His cock is familiar to you - intimately familiar in the way that every part of your body knows the shape and size of it by memory. Every ridge, vein, and curve - engraved in your brain and heart.
He prefers to fuck you. Is obsessed with the feeling of your tight heat wrapped around his cock like a warm hug he never wants to be released from. He loves to feel the way your pussy clenches around his length, wants to feel your nails raking across his back as he ruts into you, hear your pretty mewls when he pounds your cervix before he floods your insides with his release.
He wants you on your back, or on your stomach, or on your side - it doesn’t matter. He wants you anyway he can have you, just as long as it’s you with him, crying his name as you cream all over his cock.
And he’ll get that. Soon. But for now, he wants this.
He kicks his pants off, suddenly impatient as he stares down at you. He pulls you towards him, catching you off guard with the force of his tug as he sits on the chaise at the foot of his bed, and you fall onto his lap with a shocked yelp.
“Teyam!” You gasp, and his nickname falls from your lips without you even catching it.
“Be a good girl and give me what I want, okay?” He grunts, ripping the silk shirt from your body and leaving you entirely bare to his hungry gaze, save for the boots still hugging your legs. “On your knees. Now.”
You rush to comply - the firm, authoritative timbre of his voice sending shivers down your spine as you slide off of his lap and onto the floor. Neteyam leans back against his bed, the weight of his body supported on his forearms as his upper half lounges against the soft covers. His thighs are spread wide to accommodate your position between them and his cock pulses at the view.
It’s not a new sight, but it’s still his favorite sight.
You on your knees, staring up at him with those eyes, batting your long lashes at him with a combined look of shy maiden and sex vixen that makes him want to slide his hand in your hair and push your face into the ground so he can bury himself inside you from behind until the sounds you're making match the expression on your face. But no - he has a plan. He made you promise to give him whatever he wanted for his birthday, and he wants this.
“Come on, y/n,” He says, and he’s trying to be calm, trying to stay the golden, level headed prince that he should be, but even he can hear the whine in his voice. “Put them on me. Want to feel them,”
His breath feels like it's stuck in his lungs when you kneel up, hands cupping the sides of your chest as you lean closer and closer to his throbbing erection. His shirt and boots are not the only thing he’s put you in tonight. The fine jewelry of intricately made necklaces and rings he’s received throughout the day also adorn your perfect body. Three very expensive necklaces of varying lengths hang from your delicate neck, the regal blue stone on the longest one hanging beautifully just above the valley of your breasts.
The feel of your tits enveloping his length has him reeling, the soft pillowy mounds molding around his cock like they were made to cradle him between them. Your hands hold your breasts together tightly around him, the rings on your fingers shining in the light are a variety of mixed metals and glittering jewels, and he decides then and there that he never wants to wear them himself. He only ever wants to see the beautiful jewels on you.
It’s good, so good - the feel of your breasts massaging his heated length. But he needs more.
“Spit on it,” He groans, and it’s taking all he has to not just fuck up into the tight space. There’s already a wet line along the opening of the valley from his precum and he’s obsessed with the way your wet skin glistens in the low light of the room. “Spit on it, y/n. Get it all wet and slippery so I can fuck them.”
The sound that rips out of his throat when you do is almost a whimper. His cock twitches when you let the glob of saliva fall from your tongue and onto the flushed tip, the spit coating the head and running down the sides and into the warm and newly wet embrace of your breasts.
You do it again, adding more wetness to the mix to help with the slide as you glide yourself up and down his shaft. Neteyam lets out a punched out moan, hands balling into fists next to him as his head tilts back in pleasure, eyes fluttering closed for just a second before his head snaps back up, intent on not missing a second of the breathtaking image in front of him.
Your nipples are just peeking out from the cage of your fingers, two hard buds pointed tantalizingly between your pointer and middle fingers and he mourns the fact that he can’t both fuck your tits and suck on your nipples at the same time. His hips kick up, abs flexing as he rocks into the tight space, and the tip of his cock nudges the blue gem of the necklace with each thrust.
“So good for me,” He moans, reaching out to run his thumb along your bottom lip. He lets out a shuddering breath when your tongue comes out to swipe against the pad of his thumb. “Yeah, do that. Put your tongue to good use,”
Neteyam’s eyes roll back into his head at the first feel of your tongue on his swollen tip. He rocks faster, hips now completely off the chaise as he fucks your tits with vigor, your tongue lolling out to lap against the head every time it reappears back through the cradle of your breasts.
“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” He grunts. “So perfect for me.”
The sensation of his cock tapping against the wet muscle is driving him wild, and he can’t help but watch in wicked satisfaction as your own eyes hood in pleasure at the taste of his precum coating your tongue. He knows you, knows you better than anyone else ever will or ever could. He knows that if he were to sink his fingers between your thighs, you would be dripping for him.
“You were made for me,” He breathes. He can feel his stomach tightening as his orgasm barrels closer and closer. “Made just for me. Mine. My good girl, my whore.”
You hum in agreement, nodding enthusiastically as your responding moan vibrates through your tongue and against his cock. But it’s not enough. He needs the words - needs to hear them confirmed in your sweet, soft voice.
“Say it,” He demands. His mind is reeling, desperately trying to decide where he wants to cum. He wants to mark you everywhere - wants to cum on your pretty tits, paint them white with his release and watch as it drips down your gorgeous body. He wants to cum on your face, marking your beautiful features as his just so he can have an excuse to take you to the large tub across the room and wash your entire body clean, only to dirty you up again before you’ve even stepped out of it. He wants to lace his fingers in your hair and drag your head down, sheathing his cock in the warm embrace of your throat and mark you from the inside - it would be less messy, and you wouldn’t be able to wash it off afterwards. “Say it, y/n,”
“I’m yours,” You whisper, thighs unconsciously trying to rub together as you desperately try to keep up your pace and the pressure of your chest against his length. “Your whore,”
“F-fuck!” Neteyam whimpers. “Fuck, fuck,”
In the end, he chooses your tits. He stands abruptly, nudging you back slightly so he can stand properly in front of you and finishes himself off, fisting himself furiously as you gaze up at him with those innocent eyes of yours that just make him want to wreck you even more. He cums with a guttural groan, ropes of white shooting from his swollen tip and landing directly on your heaving breasts.
You look stunning - like a beautiful, fucked out goddess brought to Earth just for him to have and cherish. His cock twitches in interest as he continues to stare at you, and your hooded eyes look up at your Prince in awe.
If you thought you were getting any kind of a break, you were wrong.
**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!
Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow
