The mansion had become a palace of unchecked desire, its halls perpetually warmed by the heat of entwined bodies and the thick, lingering perfume of sex—sheets crusted with dried cum, marble floors sticky in places from squirted floods, the air a heady cocktail of jasmine, rose, coconut, vanilla, and the sharp, animal tang of endless orgasms. Sophia's political pull layered atop Natalia's Hollywood glamour and Isabella's viral reach turned my empire global: ring-spotted weaknesses in international trade deals, offshore tax havens exploited flawlessly, private islands acquired quietly. Net worth cracked ten figures, staff sworn to silence with NDAs and bonuses, the harem—nine goddesses now—worshipping my cock daily in rotating shifts, their pussies molded to my girth, leaking my seed for hours after I filled them.
But the ring's overlays burned brighter, pointing to the apex of privilege. Sophia's Senate connections and Victoria's old-money ties secured an invitation to a ultra-private royal charity auction in Monaco—yachts docked like jewels, royalty and billionaires mingling under Mediterranean stars. I scanned the terrace ruthlessly until she seized my gaze: Her Royal Highness Princess Caterina Valenti, 28-year-old heir to a small but insanely wealthy European principality. Flawless Mediterranean beauty—golden olive skin, waist-length wavy chestnut hair gleaming under lights, almond-shaped hazel eyes, a body built for sin beneath her custom white gown: high, full D-cup breasts pushing against silk, nipped waist, flared hips, and a round, lifted ass that swayed hypnotically in crystal heels.
I focused the ring: *Princess Caterina Valenti – Weakness: Suffocating royal protocol and arranged suitor disappointments—quick, inadequate lovers leaving her secretly desperate for raw, prolonged, overwhelming penetration and shattering multiple orgasms until total mindless surrender. Hidden craving to be claimed completely, shared without royal consequence. Value: Access to sovereign wealth funds, untouchable banking networks, and old-world aristocracy.*
My cock surged to full hardness in seconds, thick shaft pulsing painfully against my tailored trousers as I pictured ruining that regal composure. She stood poised but isolated on the yacht deck, forced smiles for admirers masking boredom—subtle thigh shifts betraying unspoken ache. I approached with a champagne flute, voice low. "Even princesses need escape from the crown sometimes."
Her hazel eyes sparked, lips parting slightly as she accepted the glass. We slipped below deck to a private salon, conversation turning intimate fast—she confessed the pressure of duty, suitors who finished in minutes and left her throbbing untouched, the secret fire she buried under protocol. My hand rested on her bare thigh under the table, thumb stroking upward; she parted her legs instinctively, breath hitching, nipples peaking hard against thin silk as warm, sweet musk—honeyed and regal—wafted from between her legs.
"I can give you what no prince ever has," I murmured, fingers brushing the damp lace edge of her panties. Her hand found my bulge, gasping softly at the impossible size and heat. "Take me somewhere... anywhere," she whispered, voice trembling with need.
Private jet home in hours—the mansion's grand foyer lit low, the harem assembled in sheer golden lingerie that matched the royal theme, bodies oiled and glistening, eyes feral with anticipation. Caterina stepped in, gown already unzipped at my touch, revealing flawless olive skin flushed with arousal. The air instantly thickened—her honeyed royal scent blending with the harem's familiar musk cocktail, creating an intoxicating haze.
We stripped her slowly, worshipfully: white silk whispering down, exposing sheer white thong absolutely soaked, clinging transparently to swollen, shaved lips dripping thick nectar; heavy breasts bouncing free, dark rose nipples thick and straining, areolas textured and wide. Creamy arousal already streaked inner thighs, scent blooming sharp and sweet.
The women descended in a wave of heat. Sophia and Natalia took her breasts—hot mouths engulfing nipples with wet, hungry suction, tongues flicking and teeth grazing as Caterina cried out throaty, back arching. Isabella knelt front, peeling the drenched thong down—strings of viscous cream stretching long before snapping—then buried her face, tongue plunging deep into the gushing royal pussy, lapping greedily at the overflowing honey as wet slurping filled the room.
Victoria straddled Caterina's face, lowering her leggy blonde cunt—dripping clear strands—onto those full royal lips. Caterina licked desperately, tongue fucking deep, tasting Victoria's tang as she moaned into the grinding heat.
Sarah, Lisa, Mia, and Emily swarmed her body—fingers tracing every curve, pinching olive skin lightly, two sliding into Caterina's clenching entrance alongside Isabella's tongue, curling hard against her g-spot and drawing fresh hot floods.
I stripped, cock raging erect—nine inches of veined, throbbing girth, head flared angry purple and leaking thick pre-cum ropes that dripped to the marble. Caterina's eyes locked mid-lick, muffled whimpers vibrating into Victoria as she stared at my size.
The girls arranged her on the massive ottoman—legs spread impossibly wide, knees pinned back, royal pussy exposed glistening and fluttering. I knelt, rubbing my slick cockhead through her creamy folds—coating in hot, sticky essence that smelled of pure regal need. Tension snapped as she begged in broken accent, "Please... claim me."
I drove in—slow, merciless. The swollen head breached with a filthy wet pop, stretching her velvet walls obscenely wide as inch after thick inch forced inside, every pulsing vein dragging against hypersensitive flesh until I bottomed out, balls flush against her ass, cervix kissed deep. "Dio... you're destroying my royal cunt," she wailed into Victoria's pussy, walls spasming wildly, fresh cream squirting around my buried shaft.
I hammered her—deep, savage thrusts pulling out to the flare before slamming balls-deep, wet thunderous slaps echoing, frothy white cream churning at the base and coating my swinging balls. Scents peaked primal: sharp squirt, salty sweat, honeyed musk so thick it coated the tongue.
First orgasm detonated—her body seizing rigid, pussy convulsing in violent waves, gushing scalding floods that soaked my pounding cock, balls, and thighs in puddles as she screamed raw into Victoria.
I kept railing, stamina eternal. Flipped her to prone bone—ass cheeks spread, cock re-entering from behind in one brutal thrust. Mirror walls showed everything: olive lips obscenely gripping my girth, cream bubbling with each withdraw.
The harem intensified: Natalia riding her back, grinding clit on spine; Sophia sitting on her hand, forcing fingers deep; others tribbing limbs and sucking toes.
Second climax shattered harder—squirting in powerful jets backward onto my abs, voice hoarse as she babbled pleas in Italian.
Third as I reached under to rub her swollen clit furiously, pussy farting lewdly around my churning girth, walls milking desperately.
Only then did I unleash—burying to the hilt, roaring as thick, boiling cum erupted in endless ropes, flooding her royal womb until it overflowed in creamy white rivers down her thighs and ass.
We collapsed in a drenched, quivering heap—skin glued with fluids, the foyer reeking of utter royal debauchery. Caterina clung to me, utterly broken and owned. "No protocol... no crown... just this. I'm yours forever."
Her sovereign connections opened untouchable wealth streams—ancient banking favors, tax-free havens. The harem reached ten, insatiable and complete.
But the ring shimmered with final, ultimate visions—perhaps the most guarded woman on earth.