Elizabeth's turn

Even though you're a bit winded down after fucking your mother the Queen, you felt energized and excited; and your hard cock doesn’t show any signs of wanting to stop. You look at your mother's dazed look and then at Princess Elizabeth. “Your mother appears… more than satisfied,” you say, using the same lazy, condescending tone you used earlier. "How about you?" you ask her. "Care for the same treatment?"

Elizabeth bites her lip, her teeth digging into the soft skin until it flushes a deep, glossy pink. Her eyes strays to her mother, asking for support. However, Queen Beatrice is still drunk in the afterglow and she merely watches her daughter about ravished by the same man who just conquered her with lidded eyes.

She then looks back to you with lust in her eyes, “Yes, I do,” as she walks around her mother and to your side of the bed. As she reaches your side, she hesitates for a moment, as she prepares to surrender he virginity, before climbing onto the mattress to flank you. You lie between them, the center of a royal sandwich.

Queen Beatrice, reaching out a trembling, sweat-slicked hand to touch your arm. She leans in, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, and whispers, “Unlike me, my royal daughter is untouched. Please… be gentle.”

It is a request, not as queen, but a **** mother who wants to protect her daughter from by appealing to your descency, even as you prepare to sate your lust using Princess Elizabeth body. That, and the Princess is about to be bred by you in a carnal act that would ensure the bloodline will continue to flow.

You turn to Elizabeth, meeting her gaze with heavy, predatory intensity. She is a vision of intricate braids and gold thread, yet her beauty feels more raw and elemental than her mother’s. She does not look away.

“Didn’t I pleasure you, my Queen?” you ask Beatrice, even as you gaze at Elizabeth.

"Indeed."

"Then, why wouldn't you trust me to pleasure her as well?"

The Queen nods, and lifts her hand from your arm. “You are right, , my king.”

Elizabeth moves closer. The air is thick with a sense of ceremony and inevitable doom. When you reach for her, she doesn't resist; she laces her fingers through yours with surprising strength. You pull her onto your lap, guiding her to straddle your hips.

You place your free hand on Elizabeth’s cheek, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She leans into it, lips parting. You oblige her, capturing her mouth with yours. As you kiss her, you find her lips soft and exploratory, different from the Queen's devouring hunger. You guide her body against yours, the heat of her skin radiating through her silk dress. When she feels your hardness, still slick from her mother, brush against her inner thigh, her eyes go wide. She doesn't run. Instead, she invites the touch.

As you slide her undergarments away, you find her wet, a discovery that fuels your pride. You tease her clit, coaxing a soft whimper from her throat, all while Beatrice watches from the side of the bed, a bittersweet smile on her lips.

You position her over you, the head of your cock resting at her entrance. Elizabeth tenses, but she gives you a small, shaky nod. You move with agonizing slowness, centimeter by centimeter, fighting your own urge to plunge deep.

“Are you okay?” you whisper. She takes a ragged breath. “Yes.” “Tell me when you’re ready.”

She waits, poised on the edge of her own transformation, breathing through the tension until the pleasure begins to outweigh the sting. Finally, she opens her eyes with a look of hungry acceptance. You pull her down as you push up, feeling the thin membrane of her virginity give way.

Elizabeth goes rigid, her nails raking down your back as she let's out a soundless cry. You hold her tight, letting her adjust to the fullness of you. Then, to your surprise, she begins to move on her own, mimicking her mother’s rhythm, her hips grinding to ensure you touch every untouched inch of her.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, so softly the words are almost nothing.

She doesn’t answer immediately. Her jaw works for a moment, her breath choppy, but finally she nods. “Yes,”

“Tell me when you’re ready for more.”

Elizabeth nodded, but her body was saying “not yet.” You kept your cock poised at her hymen, pulsing in a relentless, silent demand, but you refused to move until she gave you permission.

After what feels like forever, but was probably just a few seconds, Elizabeth drew a deep, shuddering breath and opened her eyes. You saw acceptance there, and something like hunger, and it was all the permission you needed.

And you slowly pushed upwards while your hands pulled her downwards, as you felt the tight, thin membrane give way around the crown of your cock. a through her hymen, officially stealing her from any other nobles out there.

Ah… ah… oh!” the princess gasps, as you invade the former virgin again, and again.

To help her along, you reach down and stimulate her clit with gentle, circular motions. She tosses her head back, moaning as she loses herself to the sensation. Beatrice, playing the role of mentor even now, whispers to her daughter, “Our King is making you feel good… it is your duty to do the same for him.”

Driven by her mother’s words and her own rising lust, Elizabeth begins to gallop, lifting herself and plunging back down to the root. She is incredibly tight, and the friction is more than you can bear.

“Fuck, Princess... I’m going to cum!”

“Oh sire… I think I am too… cum with me!” she screams.

You erupt inside her, a final, massive release that leaves you both spent. As she collapses onto your chest, her body still milking the last of your strength, you hear her dazed whisper: “I didn't know it could be like that.” Exhaustion finally claims you, the victor of two generations.