Rumia's Royal Secret: A Forbidden Night of Passion with her Guardian and the King's Pleasure

The late afternoon sun, tinged with the blush of impending evening, cast long, dancing shadows across the manicured gardens of the royal palace. Rumia Tingel, Princess of Ermiana, found herself alone amidst the blooming roses, a peculiar restlessness stirring within her. Her blonde hair, usually a neat cascade, felt unruly, each strand imbued with an almost palpable warmth. Her blue eyes, typically bright with youthful curiosity, were clouded with a yearning that went beyond the usual duties of royalty. Today, however, her mind wasn't on state affairs or diplomatic banquets. It was fixed, with an intensity that surprised even herself, on a single individual: Glenn Radars, the somewhat unconventional, yet undeniably captivating, magic instructor assigned to her personal guard.

She smoothed down the fabric of her simple, yet elegant, royal blue skirt, the material whispering against her thighs. The sensation sent a tremor of anticipation through her. Beneath the skirt, her soft, lace-trimmed panties felt suddenly too tight, a stark contrast to the airy freedom she usually enjoyed. A blush crept up her neck, warming her fair skin. She remembered the casual grace with which Glenn moved, the way his eyes, so often filled with a detached amusement, could sometimes linger on her, a fleeting intensity that made her breath hitch. He was her protector, a sworn guardian of the throne, yet lately, he had become so much more in her private thoughts.

A rustle of leaves announced his presence. Glenn appeared, his usual dishevelled appearance strangely endearing in the soft light. He offered a slight nod, his expression neutral, yet Rumia detected a subtle shift in his posture, a readiness that seemed to anticipate her unspoken thoughts. "Your Highness," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated pleasantly in her ears. "Is everything... in order?"

Rumia’s heart did a little flip. She met his gaze, allowing her own blue eyes to hold his for a moment longer than strictly necessary. "Glenn," she began, her voice a little breathy, "I… I find myself feeling a touch… restless this evening." She gestured vaguely towards the palace, though her true unease was directed inward, a growing storm of desire she could no longer ignore.

Glenn took a step closer, his presence a comforting, yet electrifying, warmth. "Restless?" he echoed, his gaze sweeping over her, a subtle, appreciative flicker in their depths. He noticed the slight flush on her cheeks, the way her skirt seemed to emphasize the curve of her hips, the very air around her thrumming with an unspoken energy. He knew, in that moment, that this was no ordinary bout of boredom. He was accustomed to the whispers of the court, the expectations placed upon a princess, but he had also seen the hidden depths of Rumia’s spirit, the quiet strength that lay beneath her regal exterior. And lately, he had found himself increasingly drawn to those depths, a dangerous fascination that he had been diligently, and often unsuccessfully, trying to suppress.

He stepped closer still, his hand reaching out, not to touch, but to hover inches from her arm, an invisible barrier of professional decorum that felt impossibly fragile. "Perhaps a stroll would help," he suggested, his voice a shade lower than before. "Or perhaps… something more?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implication. He watched her blue eyes widen slightly, a spark of something new igniting within them. Her carefully constructed composure began to fray at the edges.

Rumia’s breath caught in her throat. "Something more…" she whispered, the words barely audible. The palace was large, filled with guards and servants, yet in this secluded garden, surrounded by the fading light, it felt as though they were entirely alone. The notion of "something more" with Glenn was a forbidden fantasy that had been replaying in her mind with increasing frequency. He was her protector, a man of discipline and duty. Yet, she had seen the flicker of something primal in his eyes, a suppressed passion that mirrored her own burgeoning desires. Her gaze dropped to his lips, then slowly trailed down his form, lingering on the strong lines of his jaw, the broadness of his shoulders, the way his simple attire clung to his athletic build. A boldness, unusual for her, bloomed within her.

"Glenn," she said, her voice gaining a new, confident timbre. "I… I have been thinking… about you." The admission hung in the air, daring him. She saw his eyes darken, the spark igniting into a slow burn. The air crackled with a palpable tension. He finally let his fingers brush against her arm, the contact sending a jolt of heat through her. Her skirt rustled as she shifted, the slight movement drawing his attention to the delicate lace of her panties peeking out from beneath the hem. A daring thought, spurred by the rising tide of her passion, entered her mind. She lifted her hand, her fingers tracing the lapel of his jacket, a daring caress that he did not pull away from. He was allowing this, encouraging it even, with the silent language of his body.

"Thinking about me, Your Highness?" he murmured, his voice a low, resonant hum that sent shivers down her spine. His gaze was now intensely focused on her, the professional distance dissolving with every passing second. He could feel the tremor in her hand, the unsteady beat of her heart against his touch. He saw the conflict in her blue eyes, the battle between duty and desire, and in that moment, he knew that duty might just be losing.

Rumia nodded, her breath coming in short, quick gasps. She leaned closer, her blonde hair brushing against his cheek. "Yes," she whispered, her voice laced with a raw vulnerability that melted his resolve. "I have been thinking about… how strong you are. How… capable." Her hand moved from his lapel, inching lower, her fingers brushing against the firm plane of his abdomen beneath his tunic. He didn't flinch, his own desire a tangible force radiating from him.

Glenn’s resolve, already severely tested, finally buckled. His hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her skin. "Rumia," he breathed, the use of her given name a silent transgression that sent a wave of heat through her. "This is… dangerous."

"I know," she whispered, her blue eyes locking with his. "But I want it." The raw honesty in her voice was like a spell, binding him. He lowered his head, their lips meeting in a tentative, then increasingly fervent, kiss. The garden faded away, the world narrowing to this single, electric moment. His lips were firm, yet gentle, tasting of… him. Rumia responded with an abandon she had never known, her hands finding their way to his hair, her fingers tangling in the strands, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, becoming a passionate exploration. Rumia felt a surge of power and pleasure as Glenn’s arms encircled her, pulling her flush against his hard body. She could feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing against her skirt, a stark, thrilling reality that made her ache. The rough fabric of his tunic chafed against her soft skin, a welcome sensation that only heightened her desire. She moaned into his mouth, a soft, desperate sound that fueled his own escalating passion.

"We can't…" Glenn murmured, breaking the kiss, his breath ragged. He pulled back just enough to look into her flushed face, his eyes dark with desire. "This is forbidden, Rumia."

"Then let it be forbidden," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She reached up, her fingers trembling, and unbuttoned the top button of his tunic, revealing a glimpse of the muscled chest beneath. "I am the princess, Glenn. And I… I want you." The words were a confession, a surrender, and a command, all rolled into one. She saw the conflict warring in his eyes, but his desire was clearly winning. He closed his eyes for a moment, a silent battle waged and lost. When he opened them, they were blazing with a primal hunger.

"Then the princess will have me," he rasped, his voice rough. He lowered his head again, not to kiss, but to nuzzle at her neck, his lips trailing a fiery path along her delicate skin. Rumia arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips. His breath was warm, sending shivers of delight through her. She felt his hands on her skirt, a gentle but firm grip. He lifted the hem, slowly, deliberately, revealing the soft swell of her hips and then, her panties. Her heart hammered in her chest. The delicate blue fabric, so rarely seen, felt impossibly exposed.

"You are so beautiful, Rumia," Glenn murmured, his voice thick with adoration. He gently tugged at the waistband of her panties, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of her inner thighs. Rumia whimpered, her knees feeling weak. The anticipation was almost unbearable. He knelt before her, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he eased her panties down, revealing the full expanse of her nakedness to the twilight air. Her blonde pubic hair was soft and inviting, and the sight made Glenn’s breath catch in his throat.

Rumia gasped, her hands instinctively flying to cover herself, but Glenn gently pushed them away. "No," he whispered. "Let me look." He gazed at her with an intensity that was both humbling and exhilarating. Her pale skin, her slender form, the gentle curve of her belly – it was all exquisite. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her hips, the soft curve of her breasts. Rumia shivered, a wave of heat flooding her body. She felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely empowered.

"Glenn," she breathed, her voice a fragile whisper. She felt a pull, a need that was overwhelming. She wanted him to touch her, to claim her. He rose to his feet, his gaze never leaving her. He began to unbutton his own tunic, his movements slow and deliberate, each revealed inch of his muscular chest heightening her excitement. Rumia watched, captivated, as he shed his tunic, revealing a body sculpted by training and purpose. His abs were hard, his chest broad and powerful. The sight made her stomach clench with desire.

He reached for her again, his hands now bolder. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples, which hardened instantly under his touch. Rumia cried out, a mix of pleasure and surprise. His lips followed his hands, his tongue tracing the delicate peaks, his mouth enveloping them in a warm, wet caress. She swayed, clinging to him for support as waves of pleasure washed over her. Her hands, no longer hesitant, began to explore his body, her fingers trailing over the firm muscles of his back, down to the hard outline of his cock through his trousers.

Glenn groaned at her touch, his body reacting instantly. He lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her deeper into the secluded garden, towards a secluded, moss-covered bench hidden beneath a canopy of ancient trees. He lowered her gently onto the soft, yielding moss, her skirt pooling around her bare thighs. He knelt before her again, his eyes alight with fierce desire. He ran his hand down her body, over her smooth thighs, her trembling knees, until he reached her core. His fingers, skilled and knowing, dipped into her wetness, eliciting another soft cry from Rumia. She writhed beneath his touch, her hips arching, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The anal tension was building within her, a primal urge she hadn't known she possessed.

"You are so ready for me," Glenn whispered, his voice rough with passion. He continued his ministrations, his fingers exploring the tender folds, finding her G-spot with uncanny precision. Rumia cried out, her back arching off the moss, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, a prelude to something even more profound.

He rose again, his own trousers now discarded. Rumia’s blue eyes widened as she took in the sight of his full erection, thick and powerful, pulsing with raw desire. It was a magnificent sight, a stark contrast to the gentle fantasy she had harboured. She felt a tremor of nervousness, but it was quickly overtaken by the intoxicating rush of arousal. Glenn reached for her again, his fingers gently parting her lips, his tongue tasting her sweetness. He then slowly, deliberately, pressed his hard length against her entrance. Rumia whimpered, her body tensing. Glenn paused, his eyes searching hers. "It's alright," he murmured. "Just relax."

With a gentle push, he began to enter her. Rumia gasped, a sharp intake of breath as she felt the pressure. It was a new sensation, a deep fullness that stretched her beyond anything she had imagined. Glenn moved slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving hers, ensuring her comfort. He continued to fill her, inch by agonizingly delicious inch, until he was fully inside her. Rumia moaned, her body instinctively accepting him. The tightness, the fullness, was overwhelming, yet intoxicating. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, pulling him even closer.

Glenn began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, filling her completely. Rumia cried out, her voice a mix of pleasure and raw ecstasy. The rhythm built, their bodies moving in perfect sync. The moss beneath them provided a soft cushion, their whispers and moans the only sounds in the deepening twilight. Rumia’s blonde hair fanned out around her as she tilted her head back, her blue eyes closed, lost in the overwhelming sensations. Glenn’s hands moved to her ass, his thumbs stroking the plump cheeks, an act of worship that made her hips instinctively thrust towards him.

"Oh, Glenn," she gasped, her body trembling. "I… I love this." He grunted, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. He pressed her back against the moss, his face buried in her neck, his breath hot against her skin. The anal intensity grew, and with a boldness she never knew she possessed, Rumia whispered, "Harder, Glenn. Please… harder."

Her plea spurred him on. His thrusts became powerful, relentless, driving deeper and deeper into her. Rumia’s moans escalated into cries of pure pleasure. Her body convulsed around him, her fingers digging into his back. She felt herself spiraling towards an edge, a precipice of pure sensation. Glenn’s own breath grew ragged, his movements becoming more frantic. He felt her tighten around him, her climax approaching. With a final, thunderous thrust, he buried himself deep within her, groaning as he unleashed his own release, his seed filling her completely. Rumia cried out, her body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over her, her climax mirroring his, a shared oblivion of pure, unadulterated bliss.

For a long moment, they lay entwined, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths slowly returning to normal. The garden was now cloaked in darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the rising moon. Rumia stirred, her head resting on Glenn’s chest, his arm still wrapped securely around her. She felt a profound sense of peace, a deep satisfaction that went beyond the physical. She had crossed a line, a boundary that had seemed insurmountable, and in doing so, had discovered a part of herself she never knew existed. The forbidden had become a reality, and it was more beautiful, more passionate, than she could have ever dreamed.

Glenn gently stroked her hair, his heart still thrumming with the aftershocks of their encounter. He looked down at her, his gaze soft and tender. "Rumia," he murmured, his voice filled with a newfound reverence. "Are you… alright?"

She turned her head, her blue eyes meeting his in the moonlight. A soft smile graced her lips. "More than alright, Glenn," she whispered, her voice still a little shaky but filled with a quiet confidence. She reached up, her fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. "Thank you."

He leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a tender, lingering kiss, a promise of more to come. The night was still young, and in the hidden corners of the royal gardens, their forbidden love story had just begun to unfold, a testament to the passionate desires that could bloom even in the most unexpected of places, a secret shared between a princess and her sworn guardian.