A Castle fit for a Princess.

The first thing you noticed was a clear drop in temperature, the much colder atmosphere of your destination sending shivers across your skin. It was also much dimmer in lighting than the dance hall and eerily silent. It wasn't until your eyes had a moment to adjust that you realize the Heiress' decision.

"Is this...?"

"Yes. My old bedroom back home."

To say it was grandiose would be an understatement. With high vaulted ceilings, marble architecture, exquisite furniture in a powder blue tint, and a massive king sized canopy bed pressed up against the far wall and adorned with luxurious pillows, Weiss' bedroom at the Schnee Manor all but cemented her status as royalty, and you hadn't even seen the private bathroom. Out the single arched window, you can see a flurry of snowflakes billowing about in the night under the silver rays of the Shattered Moon. If you didn't know any better, she'd be a princess straight out of a fairy tale.

"You must trust me a great deal if you picked here of all places," you comment.

"Sort of," she admits with a shrug. "This place was as much a sanctuary as it was a prison when I was a little girl. I'd often lock myself up in here whenever my loneliness became too much to bear, especially when my older sister left to enlist in the Military."

Without a further word, she places her hands on your chest and gently pushes you back to sit on the bed, a sly smile on her lips.

"You've woken something up inside of me, Michael. You make me feel flushed and warm, sending butterflies fluttering through my stomach. I have uncomfortable memories of this place, but if you're as godly as you claim to be then it's your duty to give me much better ones."

The pressure she's exerting upon your chest grows until she has you laying back onto the cloud-soft bed. She follows and straddles your waist and as she presses her crotch against the rigid tent in your pants, her dripping arousal becomes impossible to overlook as it seeps through the thin material of your trousers. Anticipating a long session, you pause the flow of time so that nobody takes notice of either yours or Weiss' absence. Outside the window, the falling snow flakes freeze in place, signaling the spell taking effect. Pleased, you return your attention to the task at hand.

"I like this forward demeanor of yours," you say with a grin.

She smiles back down at you as she rests her hips flush against yours and begins a slow grind.

"I'm going to take what I want," she purrs sultrily. "And right now, you have exactly what I want."

Her movements are both deliberately drawn out and precise, each shift and wiggle of her hips sending shivers down your spine as she focused pressure on your most sensitive spots. It's as if she had decided to add a courtesan curriculum to her studies. The swollen crown of your cock strains painfully against the dampened fabric of your pants, yet you restrain yourself from taking back control. Weiss was one of those girls who had little to no say in what she could do as she grew up so to let her control the pace was a small price to pay in light of having this porcelain angel toss her inhibitions into the wind. Although, to be perfectly honest, you had little intention of ruining this one of a kind show of the Schnee Heiress arching her back in pleasure whilst sweet, melodious whimpers floated from her lips.

As her eyes fluttered closed, you crept your hands forward up along her hips, gliding them across the silky smooth skin and up underneath her dress. A much louder moan echoes out as your fingers play at the edges of her panties and her hands drop to grasp at yours. With deft precision, she intertwines her fingers with yours and with a strength you hadn't expected, pins your arms up above your head. The sudden change in position makes her fall forward over you until your noses are barely touching.

"I don't think so," she chides. "This time I'm in control. Understand?"

"Of course, mi'lady."

Easier said than done. The pleasure she was subjecting upon you was maddening to say the least, and it only amplified when her little, lithe hands dropped down in search of her prize, except she doesn't set about freeing your rigid member from its cotton prison. Instead she grips you tightly through the material, working her hands over the head in a twisting motion that tears a tortured groan from your mouth. A glance up at Weiss' face told you she was enjoying this kind of power immensely. As the minutes dragged on, she steadily increased the rocking of her hips, her hands mirroring the speed and pleasure as she worked you ever closer into a burgeoning climax.

"Trying to make me bust in pants?" you manage to say through gritting teeth.

"Think of it as payback for when you took advantage of me," she answered with a mischievous grin.

In spite of the jibe, your royal lover decides to take pity on you and her hands release you from their grip, granting you a much needed respite to quell the aching in your groin. She hardly remained idle however as she focused her attention on your upper body, first undoing the securing buttons of your jacket (she allows you to sit up just enough to slip the garment from your shoulders) then systematically popping free every button of your shirt, revealing the chiseled flesh beneath. Her much colder hands slip inside to caress your muscles directly, the abrupt difference in temperature making you hiss through your teeth and sending goosebumps across your skin. Dancing delicately along your collarbone, she shifts her attention to the svelte strip of cloth that was your tie and undoes the knot. That too joins your jacket discarded upon the floor and in a matter of moments, you're bare from the waist up.

"I didn't get to see much of you at all in the shower," she coos as she traces the contours of your muscles with her finger.

"Do I meet your lofty standards?" you ask whilst a shiver travels down your spine.

Skin sensitivity aside, it was absolutely freezing in the manor and it showed through the sharp points of your nipples.

"I'd say you're... adequate," she quips offhandedly. "Any Huntsman worth their title would be in prime physical condition, meaning what you have isn't exactly special. I'd even expect that buffoon Jaune to fight at peak performance with a woman like Pyrrha training him."

"A fair assessment," you agree as you play along. "Though if we're going to be honest with each other, your stamina has much to be desired when compared to your teammates."

"Indeed? Do tell."

Her words come out in a shudder as your forgotten hands resume their roaming, your palms sliding along the smooth flesh of her hips and your fingertips teasing at her panty line along her rear.

"Yang is built like a tank and can hit just as hard, Blake has spent most of her life as a freedom fighter outside of the major kingdoms, and Ruby is constantly sprinting about from place to place. You have elegance and grace certainly, but elegance won't help you against hardened criminals or shadow monsters."

"And how do you suppose I should correct this deficiency?"

By now you've sat up to embrace her, the two of you intertwined in the lotus position and she's made no effort to stop this equilization of power. In fact, she appears all the more eager for your direction and sits patiently for your answer, her lips hovering so close to yours you can feel her soft breaths with every exhale.

"Physical activity... strenuous physical activity."

You could bear the tension no longer, especially not with such soft and pale lips lingering so close by. The same thought crosses her mind as you both close that minuscule distance to meet in a heated duel of tongues. She moans wantonly into your mouth while her hips resume their excruciating grinding.

Shifting position, you twist around and push her backwards upon the bed, mounting her missionary and giving you free access to an impossible-to-ignore problem. With nigh desperation in your movements, you waste not a single second to free your throbbing erection from its cloth prison. Compared to the rest of the Heiress' bedroom, the heat radiating from your eager member was nearly scorching. Propping yourself up with your hands, you slide off and toss aside your trousers, and kick free your shoes and socks leaving you as nude as the day you were born. She follows your lead, reaching up underneath her dress to slip off her lacy, snow-white panties, taking her heels as she went. She makes to undo the zipper in the back of her dress, but you stop her with a firm grip on her hands.

"Leave it on for now."

She smirks wryly at you.

"You really want to fuck me in my prom dress? Pervert," she taunts despite spreading her legs open invitingly, the silky hem bunching up at her waist.

"Admit it, you're loving every second. Besides, I want to make love to you instead."

A blazing blush spreads across her cheeks and she bashfully tries to turn away, her hands dropping to cover her leaking womanhood.

"D-don't get the wrong idea!" she stutters. "This is just sex and nothing more..."

"Are you sure about that?"

She whimpers in response as you slip your cock up underneath her hands to grind at her neatly shaved pussy, the friction making her writhe in needy ecstasy. She was sweltering to the touch whenever you pressed your cock-head in between those glistening lips, and the adventurous prods told you she remained as tight as ever. You spend a few more moments teasing her until she begins pressing her hips against you with impatience, her earlier embarrassment steadily giving way to annoyance.

"Quit poking around and stick it in already," she huffs.

"Stick what in, Snow Angel?"

She bristles at the nickname.

"Don't make me say it."

You lean down over her and suckle at her neck, drawing out mewls of pleasure as you suckle and nip at the soft, sensitive flesh, chipping away her defiance bit by bit with lethargic abandon. Her hands hardly remain idle, and you suck in a breath as they wrap around your manhood and stroke in time with your pistoning hips. With every passing thrust, your shaft moistens with her love nectar, slickening her handjob until it squelched loudly between her fingers.

"Say it for me, Weiss," you beg as you plant little kisses on her chin.

"Do I have to...?" she asks with a shuddering breath.

"Please?"

She bites down hard upon her bottom lip, the words catching in her throat. It isn't until you shift along to the side of her neck and drag your tongue up to her earlobe does she finally speak.

"Put your thick cock inside of me, Michael."

"In where?" you clarify for her whilst nibbling on her ear.

"Mmmmm... in my... my pussy," she gasps. "Come make love to your Snow Angel's little pussy."

You hadn't expected her to use that nickname in her dirty talk, having been fully aware of her disdain for the moniker, yet hearing it spill so lewdly from her lips sent fire through your veins. Dipping your hips ever so slightly, you begin to press into her vice-like pussy. Thanks to all of the grinding and mutual teasing, she's more than wet enough to accommodate your invading member, yet her walls remain as tight as ever. You had only managed to squeeze the head into her clenching channel, and she was already gripping tight upon you like a clenching fist. Gritting your teeth, you push forward harder until the barest of give can be felt.

"Did you get bigger?" she cries out quietly with wide eyes. "You barely fit!"

"Tight... so tight," is all you manage to say in response.

"Slowly... sl- Oh Dust!"

Two inches in and she abruptly arches her back as you grind against her g-spot. The sudden movement catches you off guard as well and with an orgasmic, forward thrust of her hips, she buries you inside of her in a single stroke. Squealing as the tremors rip through her body, Weiss claws desperately at your back in delirious pleasure, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist to keep you from moving. She was by far the quickest to cum out of all your girls thus far. The rippling of her cunt doubles in frequency, edging you far closer to your own release than you thought possible. You bite back a groan of your own, fighting fiercely to not lose control and pound her into the mattress.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Weiss seems to have plans of her own as she vigorously fucks herself on your throbbing member. Wanton moans spill freely from her mouth and she hurriedly gags herself with her pillow to keep from screaming aloud. You have nothing of it and rip the pillow from her grasp, instead sealing your lips against her whilst you meet her stroke for frantic stroke.

"You turn me on so much Weiss," you groan against her lips.

She manages a grin at your admission despite the tremors wracking her body.

"A pervert like you would get turned on no matter what I did," she says between shudders. "Fuck you're stretching me apart...! It's been so long!"

Understatement of the night. Her channel was so utterly narrow it wrung on your thrusting shaft with crushing ****. Were it not for her natural lubricants, you had no doubt you'd be locked in place. Regardless, the sensations were utterly euphoric and you could feel the pressure in your groin growing rapidly with an impending explosion. Weiss seems to take notice of your pre-orgasmic swelling and clings tightly to your frame.

"You're going to cum, aren't you?" she whispers in your ear. "Go on. Do it. Empty every drop of your perverted seed deep inside me just like you did in the shower."

"Earn it," you quip back, your finger snaking its way down to the swollen pearl that is her clit.

You make contact before she can retort, the calloused pad rolling and pressing against the hypersensitive nub and driving her into a second explosive orgasm. She shrieks into your mouth as the tremors once again overtake her and this time the rhythmic squeezing of her cunt is too much to resist. You join her with a grunt of your own as you bottom out as deeply as possible and fire, filling her deepest parts with scalding hot spunk.

"I can feel it!" she gasps out loud. "So much! You're filling me up so much!"

"You're my Snow Angel, Weiss. You belong to me now," you growl into her neck.

"Y-yesssss..." she whimpers lustily. "Your Snow Angel. All... yours."

As your orgasm wanes, you take a moment to undo the zipper in her dress and pull the now sweat-soaked garment free of her lithe frame. Such pure, perfect, porcelain skin was once again bared for your viewing pleasure and it sent a new wave of desire washing over you. You resume thrusting at an easy, measured pace, savoring the feel of her body in your arms as you lovingly cradled her. Time loses meaning to you as you immerse yourself fully in the pleasures of Weiss Schnee, but eventually you feel the pressure of a hand on your chest, signaling you to stop and sit up from her. You look at your lover questioningly when a mischievous grin forms on her face.

"I have an idea I think you'll really enjoy," she suggests. "Follow me."