They're barely catching their breath when he's at it again, flipping her onto her back like she weighs nothing.
He's still hard...
and he spreads her legs wide, diving back into her cum-soaked pussy.
The wet squelch of him sliding in makes her groan, her tits bouncing as he starts pounding her again.
His mouth's all over her—sucking on her nipples, biting the soft flesh under her jaw, tongue dragging across her collarbone. She claws at his back, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper as her pussy throbs around his cock.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he mutters, voice hoarse, slamming into her with a rhythm that's got the headboard banging the wall. She's dripping, a mess of her own slick and his cum, and every thrust sends a jolt up her spine. Her hands grab his ass, urging him on, and he grunts, fucking her so deep she swears she feels it in her guts.
Joana was about to mumble about how good he was with the piston movement, but before she could say anything, the dress slipped down.
Her neck's stiff, but she twists to see him yanking at the laces on her back, face blank like he's just untying a knot.
She snorts, then peels off the dress and shifts once he's done, tossing them to the floor. He's already naked—no waiting around—and he's on her again, dragging her into round three.
This time, he's sitting back on his heels, cock jutting up, red and glistening. She climbs over him, facing the wall, and sinks onto his dick, her ass slapping his thighs as she starts riding him hard. He groans, hands roaming—gripping her hips, then sliding up to cup her tits, squeezing rough as she bounces.
His teeth sink into her neck, tongue flicking over the bite, and she gasps, grinding down so his cock hits that spot that makes her see stars.
Her pussy's a wreck, leaking all over him, and she's moaning his name again, loud enough the whole castle might hear.
They go at it until they're both spent, sweaty, and panting, her pussy aching in the best way.
Eventually, Joana's comfortable enough to call her maids back in once they're half-naked, at least.
Dalla swaps the sheets, cheeks flaming red, probably knowing exactly what they've been up to.
---
Joana and Aegon stood in the dimly lit chamber, watching Dalla as she worked. The soft scrape of the broom against the stone floor filled the silence. But when Dalla turned to sweep the far corner, her back to them, her figure shifted, and her hips unwittingly faced Aegon's line of sight.
They were round, plump and bubbly.
Joana caught the glint in aegon's eye and smirked. "What's this? Do you want to bed her?" she teased her voice light but edged with curiosity.
Aegon remained silent, his gaze fixed only one her bubbly hips.
"She's just a servant, you know," Joana continued, leaning casually against the armrest of a carved wooden chair.
"I've never heard of an emperor bedding a maid before. Why would they, with harems full of perfumed beauties at their call?" She paused, her eyes flicking to Aegon, who still hadn't torn his attention from Dalla's form as she swept, oblivious to their scrutiny.
"But then again… who knows? Maybe some did, in secret. I wonder what they did in secret. Maybe satisfying their dark fantasy?" she added with a sly smile, testing him.
Aegon seemed not to hear her, lost in his thoughts. Then, after a beat, he spoke, with a low voice. "You're leaking."
"Hmm?" Joana blinked, puzzled for a moment until her gaze followed his. She understood then. Dalla's dress, though modest and ankle-length, betrayed her—a dark, telltale dampness had begun to seep through the fabric, glistening faintly in the torchlight.
Dalla froze mid-sweep, the broom trembling in her hands as the emperor's words sank in. Slowly, she turned, her face flushed with mortification. "I-I-I'm sorry, my lord," she stammered, clutching the broom to her chest as if it could shield her shame. "I'll change my dress at once—"
She was about to leave the chamber in hurry...
"Stop," Aegon commanded, his tone firm but not harsh.
He turned to Joana, his expression unreadable, though a silent question lingered in his eyes.
Joana tilted her head, considering him, then Dalla.
"Well," she said, her lips curving into a mischievous grin, "she's My Maid , and I've no objection. But if you're going to do it, I want to be there."
Aegon's brow arched, a flicker of amusement crossing his stern features. "You mean I should bed you both together?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Joana licked her lips, her eyes gleaming with intrigue. "I think it could be… interesting."
In the corner, Dalla stood rooted to the spot, her broom forgotten. She listened to their exchange as though it were a casual discussion about the weather, but beneath her stillness, her heart pounded like a war drum.
Me? Bed the emperor? With my lady?
The thought sent a shiver through her, her legs trembling beneath her skirts. Was it fear twisting her stomach, or excitement? Even she couldn't tell.
"Well… fine," Aegon said at last, conceding to Joana's terms with a nod. He turned to Dalla, his gaze steady and commanding. "Tomorrow night, be here in this chamber. And not a word of this to anyone. You understand what's expected from you, right?"
Dalla swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, my lord. It will be my pleasure to serve you and my lady." She dipped her head in a shaky bow, her cheeks burning.
Aegon gave a curt nod. "Go now. And change that dress—it's too obvious."
Her face flared crimson, and with a mumbled "Yes, my lord," she slipped out of the room, her footsteps quick and quiet against the stone. The heavy wooden door creaked shut behind her, leaving Joana and Aegon alone in the flickering light with nothing but silence.