Mate’s Behind Masks

Maids

Days blurred into a haze of raw, relentless rutting.

These two blonde sluts—Lena and Mira, with their golden waves, piercing green eyes, and those absurdly swollen t**s leaking milk at the slightest touch—became my personal fucktoys. I'd summon them to my chambers, the royal bedchamber with its massive four-poster drowning in silk sheets stained with c*m and sweat, or drag them into shadowed alcoves during council breaks.

My werewolf blood surged, c**k perpetually thick and ready, knot swelling at the base whenever I buried it in their holes.

No mercy, no rest.

I'd pound their throats until they choked on my load, then flip them for back-to-back ass-fuckings, watching their green eyes water in bliss.

One evening, after a brutal day of border skirmishes reported by my generals, I had them stripped and stacked in my private bathhouse.

Steam rose from the heated marble pools, scented with musk and their arousal.

I growled low, my dark blonde hair tousled, green eyes glowing faintly with the beast within as I shed my suit, muscles rippling under tanned skin, my heavy c**k jutting out, veins pulsing.

"Stack up," I snarled, voice echoing off the tiles.

Mira obeyed first, dropping to all fours on the thick rug, ass high, p***y lips puffy and glistening, asshole winking above.

Lena climbed atop her, mirroring the pose—t**s mashed together in a sea of creamy flesh, n*****s dribbling milk onto Mira's back.

Their blonde locks tangled, green eyes glancing back at me with desperate need, identical plump lips parted in whimpers.

Four holes presented like a feast: Mira's dripping cunt and tight rear below, Lena's soaked slit and puckered ring above, all quivering, juices trailing down thighs.

I gripped my shaft, stroking once to smear pre-c*m over the head, then lunged in.

First, I rammed into Mira's p***y, balls slapping her c**t as I bottomed out, her walls fluttering around my girth.

She howled, pushing back, while Lena ground her own folds against Mira's ass for friction.

I pulled out slick, reared up, and plunged into Lena's cunt next—deeper, harder, her body jolting atop Mira's, t**s flopping forward to slap Mira's shoulders.

Milk squirted from her n*****s with each thrust, splattering their skin.

Switching holes kept them writhing.

Out of Lena's p***y, I speared Mira's ass, stretching that ring wide, my knot bumping her cheeks as I hammered deep.

She bucked, tongue lolling to lick Lena's hanging udders.

Then up to Lena's asshole—virgin-tight despite days of use, gripping me like a fist as I reamed it, hips pistoning, the wet squelch mixing with their moans.

"f**k yes, take your king's c**k in every slutty hole," I roared, claws extending slightly to rake their hips, leaving red trails.

My werewolf stamina let me cycle through them endlessly: p***y to ass, bottom to top, shaft coated in their mixed cream.

Lena came first, asshole clenching as she squirted over Mira's back, flooding down to Mira's crack.

Mira followed, p***y gushing around nothing until I filled it again, her body shaking under Lena's weight.

I grabbed fistfuls of blonde hair, yanking their heads back to expose throats.

"Suck each other," I ordered.

They twisted necks, lips crashing—tongues thrusting, spit swapping while I kept rotating: thrust into Lena's p***y, making her grind harder on Mira's face; then Mira's ass, her screams muffled in Lena's folds.

Knot swelling, I chose Lena's ass for the finish, pounding until it popped past her rim, locking us.

Cum erupted in thick jets, flooding her bowels while I fingered Mira's holes below, three fingers in her p***y, thumb in ass, forcing her orgasm.

Lena milked my knot dry, belly bulging slightly, then I twisted free with a pop, shoving into Mira's mouth to hose down her throat.

They collapsed in a heap, holes gaping, c*m leaking from all four, t**s heaving as they lapped at the mess.

But my c**k twitched, hardening anew.

"Clean up and present again. Night's young."

Werewolf kings don't tire easy—these bitches were mine until I said stop.

Mira slid backward across the rug on her elbows, blonde hair fanning out like a halo, green eyes locked on mine as she spread her thighs wide.

Cum still oozed from her stretched p***y and ass, pooling beneath her.

Lena, fresh from slurping every drop off my throbbing c**k—her tongue swirling around the knot, lips sucking the slit clean—crawled atop her sister slut in reverse, knees bracketing Mira's head, her own dripping holes hovering over Mira's face.

They dove in without a word, mouths latching onto each other's swollen folds.

Mira's tongue plunged into Lena's c*m-filled ass first, scooping out my load with sloppy laps, while Lena ground her p***y down on Mira's mouth, c**t bumping her nose.

Wet smacks filled the steamy air, their hips bucking in rhythm.

But those massive t**s—udders heavy with milk—dangled and brushed, n*****s hardening. Lena leaned forward, capturing Mira's left tit in her mouth, sucking hard enough to draw a spray of cream that she swallowed greedily. Mira retaliated, teeth grazing Lena's right n****e before nursing deep, milk dribbling down her chin as she fingered Lena's holes.

"Keep eating those cunts and t**s," I growled, werewolf c**k rigid again, veins bulging, pre-c*m beading at the tip.

I knelt between their stacked legs, the four entrances on full display: Mira's gaping p***y and ass below, slick with our mess; Lena's above, twitching and leaking.

I gripped the base of my shaft, rubbing the fat head along Mira's slit first, parting her lips, then dragging up to tease Lena's puckered ring.

No more teasing.

I thrust forward, spearing Lena's p***y deep in one brutal shove, her walls clamping as she moaned into Mira's breast.

Balls slapped Mira's forehead while she tongued Lena's c**t from below.

I pulled out with a gush, c**k glossy, and slammed into Mira's ass next—stretching that ring anew, knot nudging her cheeks.

She bucked up, driving her tongue deeper into Lena's hole.

Pistoning relentlessly, I rotated: Lena's ass, gripping like velvet fire; Mira's p***y, flooding around me; back to Lena's cunt, her squirt hitting my thighs; Mira's rear, milking me with spasms.

Their bodies rocked together, t**s mashed and sucked—Lena biting Mira's n****e, drawing milk that Mira slurped from her own lips via Lena's kiss.

Fingers joined tongues: Lena stuffing three into Mira's p***y while I reamed her ass; Mira's hand fisting Lena's folds as I pounded her throat-deep.

My claws dug into their hips, holding the stack steady as I hammered faster, the rug bunching under us.

"Beg for more king's seed, whores," I snarled, knot inflating.

They broke their kiss, voices muffled but desperate: "Please, fill our holes! Breed us!"

Lena came hard, ass clenching my c**k as she ground on Mira's face, drowning her in juices.

Mira shuddered next, p***y squirting up to soak my balls.

I locked into Mira's p***y, knot popping past her lips, and unleashed ropes of hot c*m, bloating her belly.

Excess spurted out around the seal, which Lena lapped up hungrily.

When I yanked free, popping wetly, I fed the dripping shaft to Lena's mouth, then Mira's, letting them clean while their holes winked empty.

But the beast hungered.

"Flip. Mira on top now. I want that p***y stacked over ass—gonna wreck you both again."

Yet before either maid could continue their useless attempt at pleasing me, Yasuf’s voice cut through the family link.

‘The news crew is ready for you, Dyhnael. And I am not going anywhere near your bedroom. It doesn’t take a genius to know what you’re doing in there.’

I shut my eyes.

Annoyance crawled up my spine.

The boy truly had a talent for timing his interruptions at the most inconvenient moments possible.

‘Then continue not being a genius somewhere else,’ I shot back.

Yasuf laughed through the link.

I severed the connection before his amusement infected the rest of my brothers.

With a curse under my breath, I pushed myself off the bed.

The two maids on the bedroom rug immediately straightened, both still exactly where I had left them, dressed in nothing but obedient silence and the expectation that I would return to using them.

I did not even spare them a second glance.

Desire had long since burned into irritation.

Nothing kills a man’s mood faster than politics.

I walked toward the bathroom, stripping the last of my clothes off along the way, and turned on the shower with enough force that steam quickly swallowed the glass.

As cold water struck my skin, I braced my palms against the tile and let the frustration pour over me.

A failing economy.

A war at our borders.

A mother who breathed commands.

A kingdom mocking its future king.

And now a damned public speech where I had to pretend I cared whether common females attended a ball I did not even want.

My life had become one long ceremony of obligations.

I scrubbed a hand down my face.

No mate.

No queen.

No peace.

Just endless women thrown at me as if my c**k alone could solve national unrest.

The thought made me let out a bitter huff.

Wonderful.

Perhaps next they would ask me to breed prosperity directly into the soil.

Once I was done, I opened a mind link to the two maids still waiting on my bedroom rug.

‘Get dressed and leave. I will request you both again when needed.’

A simultaneous murmur of obedience brushed back through the bond.

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

By the time I stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around my waist and water still dripping from my hair, they were gone.

Good.

The room smelled less suffocating without cheap perfume and false moans lingering in it.

I dressed quickly.

Dark tailored trousers.

Black fitted shirt.

A royal jacket lined in silver.

Every piece chosen not because I wished to impress but because cameras fed on image, and image was the one thing this kingdom still swallowed whole.

I buttoned the cuffs, dragged my fingers through my damp dark blond hair, and stared at myself in the mirror.

A king in waiting.

A man one decree away from collapse.

A son still being treated like an apprentice by his own mother.

My jaw tightened.

This speech needed to work.

The people needed to stop laughing.

And if I had to stand under bright studio lights selling them a fantasy of celebration and royal duty, then so be it.

I would give them the polished prince they demanded.

Even if inside I was one inconvenience away from strangling the nearest reporter.