The King's Lover Chapter 4: Fantasy

Rose, adjusting her dress, navigated through the dense bushes. Despite her slightly loose footwear, her pace remained undeterred. She hopped over scattered stones with practiced ease. Having scouted the path earlier that day, she was well-prepared for any hindrances. This route, however, was a departure from the one she typically used to visit Ander.

Ander's residence was situated a considerable distance from her family's home, requiring traversal of two streets and passing three houses before reaching the rear of his property. Rose effortlessly scaled the wooden fence. The sole complication arose when her dress snagged on the top of the fence, leaving her suspended upside down, her backside exposed to the moonlit sky. Fortunately, she managed to dislodge it discreetly, albeit with a tumble into a flower bed, narrowly missing the delicate blooms. Ander's mother would undoubtedly be displeased.

Scrambling to her feet, Rose ensured she remained concealed and that the noise of her fall hadn't attracted attention. She was thankful for the absence of any dogs, which would have surely given away her presence. She brushed away clinging twigs and dried leaves from her attire. Casting a look towards the house, she noted the absence of any lights, signifying no one was awake.

She exhaled softly and cautiously approached the dwelling. She knew the precise location of Ander's room and was certain he would be asleep alone. After all, it was intended to be the room she would one day share with him. Ander's parents' home bore a resemblance to her own, only slightly larger, featuring a separate sitting area from the sleeping quarters.

Rose stealthily made her way to the window, finding it ajar. The only barrier between her and the interior was the curtain. She was relieved that Ander habitually slept with his windows open. Wriggling the curtain aside with great care, she began to climb in, starting with one leg. Caution was paramount to avoid striking anything and creating a disruptive sound.

She lowered her feet gingerly before her heel, releasing a quiet sigh. The contents of the room became discernible to Rose almost instantly. In a corner stood a shelf, laden with her father's carved creations and some of her own modest attempts. She recalled Ander's affectionate teasing, how he always claimed her work surpassed her father's, and a smile touched her lips.

Rose then turned her attention to the floor. Ander lay on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, emitting a soft snore. Though his face was not clearly visible in the dim light, she knew his features intimately, capable of sketching them even in darkness. His lean face, a mole beneath his lip, eyes like stormy grey skies, and the subtle dimple that graced his left cheek when he smiled—Rose found him exceedingly handsome.

Shaking herself from her admiration, she remembered her purpose. She grasped the hem of her dress, pulling it upwards. Letting it fall to the floor, she stood completely unclothed. Rose winced as the cool night air caressed her bare skin, her bosom immediately reacting to the sensation. Her silhouette against the wall, cast by the moonlight, revealed her form without reservation—perky breasts, a slender waist, a rounded posterior, and long, elegant legs.

Rose moved towards Ander, carefully placing one leg over him. She lowered herself until she was straddling him. Just as Ander's eyes snapped open, she covered his mouth with her hands. Still groggy from sleep, it took a moment for the reality of the situation to dawn on him. He suddenly jolted, attempting to push her away.

"Andy," she whispered, her voice laced with seduction. "'Tis me."

His shock deepened. He tried to speak, but her hand remained firmly over his lips. Gently, he pulled her hand away. "Rosie," he murmured. "What are ye doing 'ere so late?"

"Shh, yer Mother will hear us," she replied with a grin, shifting her hips suggestively.

Ander's face flushed crimson. "Are ye n-naked?" he stammered, completely flustered.

Rose moved again, her voice a teasing lilt. "Ye finally noticed."

She guided his hand to her chest. Ander's eyes rolled back as he tried to withdraw his hand, but she wouldn't allow it.

"What are ye doing?"

"What do ye think?" Rose responded, a playful smile gracing her lips.

"We should wait," he urged, his voice strained. "Our wedding is only a week away, Rosie. Ye can't."

"When ye're already like this?" she retorted, moving back and forth.

"Rosie!" he cried out, his grip tightening on her breasts.

"Ye don't have to do anything," she whispered, leaning closer.

She covered his lips with hers, and Ander responded instantly. They had shared clandestine kisses before, and even more intimate moments. It was always her initiative, as Ander was rather shy; left to his own devices, he might have been hesitant even on their wedding night, content simply to hold her hand. His reactions to her bolder advances only fueled her desire to tease him further.

Their tongues twined, and she increased the motion of her hips. "Rosie," Ander groaned against her lips, his body trembling.

"Andy," she whispered, pulling away from his lips to nuzzle his neck, her hips continuing their rhythmic dance. A strange sensation began to build, perhaps from the friction against his clothes.

"Rosie," he managed to groan, his hands finding her waist.

A secret smile touched Rose's lips; she knew he wouldn't falter now. She reached for the waistband of his trousers.

"Rosie," he called again, his voice strained with a struggle for control. The moment her fingers made contact, his resolve shattered.

Rose grinned. His arousal was slick with moisture; she could tell he had been holding back. As she teased him with gentle pressure, he gasped.

"Rosie," he cried out.

She shifted, rising to meet his gaze before slowly descending. Feeling his readiness at her entrance, she instinctively braced herself. Ander was gripping the straw-filled mattress as if for dear life.

As much as she enjoyed prolonging the playful torment, her own desire for completion was growing. It was why she had initiated this moment. Rose applied gentle downward pressure. A flash of dark hair met her eyes as he pushed inside, causing her to briefly frown. Yet, Ander was already moving, overcome by an intensity he could barely withstand. "So wet," he breathed, his voice thick with what sounded like agony. Rose offered a soft smile; his reaction made her momentarily forget the sting of discomfort.

"Silence!" Caius suddenly roared, his fantasy shattered by the intrusion. He seized the hair of the woman beneath him, whose body was positioned with his cock buried deep.

Rylen had struggled to mask his vexation when he requested a redhead, but this woman was proving to be a disappointment. Her hair lacked the vibrant hue he craved; even the dim light failed to conjure the illusion of fiery red locks. It was disappointingly muted. The most grating aspect, however, was the incessant moaning emanating from the wench. To Rylen, it was the most repulsive sound imaginable. He couldn't be sure what his ideal redhead's voice would sound like, but he was convinced it would be the most melodious sound he had ever experienced.

Caius grunted with each thrust, his mind conjuring the image of her rounded backside. Just as she arched her back to retrieve a pail from the well, he drove himself into her fully, to the hilt. A jolt of pleasure coursed through his member, but his reverie was abruptly broken when the woman beneath him cried out against the pillow.

"Too deep, Your Eminence," she gasped, followed by a series of strange utterances as she reached her peak. Her legs trembled uncontrollably before she collapsed onto the bed.

This was clearly not working. "Begone!" he commanded, pulling his robe tighter around himself.

The woman could barely muster the strength to move, so he shoved her off the bed. "Someone escort her from my chambers."

The bedroom door opened instantly, and one of his guards entered, hoisting the woman and carrying her out of the room.

"Will there be anything else, Your Highness?" another guard inquired as the previous one departed with the woman.

"No," Caius replied. The guard bowed and withdrew.

This was unacceptable. He desired the redhead – she who dared to interrupt his moments of pleasure. He glanced down at his still-hardened erection. "Damn it!" He would have to address this situation, though for now, he was forced to endure this frustrating state.