🗡️ A powerful King Stark rules over the land of Jarvonia, but without a son as an heir, his enemies are vying for his throne.
That is until he realises his true power may lie in his fierce and stubborn daughter, and whom he can wed her to...🗡️
So...
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Princess Loretta barely had time to think about the fact there was a Prince, in her chambers, in the middle of the night. The magnitude of what was happening not having time to register.
Their lips were ardently connected as one, the taste of wine and smoke dancing on her tongue that softly entwined around his.
The heat that had collected in her lower belly earlier was a roaring fire now, the flames engulfing her and licking her skin. She felt as if she might boil from the inside out.
It was the most divine feeling in her whole existence.
His large hands were around her waist, gripping the silken fabric of her gown, one metal, one flesh and she felt as if she might crumble beneath him. Her fingers found their way to wrap around locks of his hair, tangling in his scalp.
His stubble slightly scratched her cheeks as they walked backwards, their bodies moving together like an intricate dance.
The Princess was unsure if she even had a brain anymore, it felt like it had melted away with all her logic and reason. She could not see past this moment. She wanted nothing but this moment.
Just as the backs of her knees hit her bed, she pulled away, gasping for breath and looking at Bucky's kiss-bitten lips that were swollen with lust. His cheeks were as flushed pink as she presumed hers were, the candlelight lighting up his seraphically angular features.
His eyes were glistening, staring devotedly into her own.
She felt dizzyingly heady with desire. She knew she was in dangerous territory. If the two were caught now, despite simply sharing a kiss, there would be repercussions.
He moved his hands to grasp her face, showing a little hesitancy when it came to his metal one.
She turned her head to kiss the palm of it, bringing her own hand from his scalp to stroke over the cool, rigid fingers. It was perfectly crafted. Beautiful and mechanical. Her gaze wandered to where it conjoined to his shoulder, trailing over the faded but jagged scars that adorned his skin.
Bucky shifted uncomfortably as he watched her, watching him.
But the way the Princess before him was looking at it, was with intrigue and curiosity. She did not seem afraid, she seemed like she was in wonderment at the replacement limb.
"You are beautiful." She whispered into the thick air of the night, Bucky feeling a lump in his throat at the sentiment.
No one had ever told him that before. And if it had come from anyone but her, he might not believe it. But the genuineness in her eyes spoke volumes.
