The Prince’s Claim
Copyright© 2026 by A.R. Knox
Chapter 3: The Knight’s Vigil
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3: The Knight’s Vigil - Prince Cassian’s kingdom falls. Two older men claim him. One conquers with brutal fire. One reclaims with tender hearth. One watches: bound, untouched, spilling in tears while they share the prince. Years later Cassian still cannot choose. He needs both.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Mult Coercion Consensual NonConsensual Reluctant Gay Fiction Cuckold Incest Son Father MaleDom Humiliation Rough Group Sex Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Royalty
Weeks had passed since the fall of Aetheria. The castle still smelled of smoke and conquest. King Draven’s rule had settled like a heavy cloak. His banners draped every hall. His men drank deep from the royal cellars. His voice echoed through the corridors with casual commands. Prince Cassian had been allowed to resume a semblance of public life. Parading as the conquered heir. Attending feasts in silence. Wearing the white-and-silver tunic of submission that clung to his frame like a second skin. But the nights belonged to the shadows. To Alden’s tender reclamations and Draven’s brutal returns.
Sir Rowan had survived the siege by luck and mercy. The knight. Tall. Broad. Twenty-nine summers old. Had been spared execution only because Draven found amusement in breaking a man who had once sworn to protect the prince with his life. Rowan now served in the lowest ranks of the household guard. Polishing armour. Standing watch. Carrying messages. His armour bore the dents of defeat. His eyes bore the deeper scars.
He still loved Cassian.
Not as a subject loves a prince. But as a man loves another. Quietly. Hopelessly. From the shadows. He had watched Cassian grow from boy to heir. Trained beside him in the yard. Bandaged his cuts after sparring. That love had always been secret. Buried beneath oaths and duty. Now it festered. Twisted by what he had witnessed and what he was forced to witness still.
Tonight Rowan stood guard outside the prince’s chambers.
Draven had ordered it.
The king lounged inside. Boots propped on a stool. Wine in hand. Cassian knelt before him. Naked. Save for the thin silver chain Draven had fastened around his throat like a collar. The door stood ajar. Just enough for sound to carry. Just enough for Rowan to glimpse fragments if he dared look.
He dared.
Through the narrow crack Rowan saw Draven’s hand fist in Cassian’s dark hair. Guiding his head down. The wet rhythmic sounds of sucking filled the corridor. Soft glucks. Muffled moans. The occasional gag as Cassian took him deep. Rowan’s stomach clenched. His cock. Traitor. Stirred painfully against his breeches.
Gods no ... not again.
Draven’s voice rolled out. Low and amused.
“Look at you. My prince. So eager to please your father. Swallow deeper. Show the knight outside what a good vessel you’ve become.”
Cassian’s response was lost in the wet slide of his mouth. But Rowan heard the choked whimper that followed. Rowan’s hand moved almost without thought. Pressing against the bulge in his breeches. Rubbing slowly through the leather. The friction was rough. Unsatisfying. But it eased the ache just enough to keep him silent.
He stroked himself in slow circles. Eyes locked on the sliver of scene. Cassian’s lips stretched wide. Cheeks hollowing. Throat working. Rowan’s breathing grew shallow. Ragged. His palm pressed harder. Fingers curling. But he did not let himself finish. Not yet. Not while the king was still inside his prince.
Draven pulled Cassian off with a wet pop. Strings of saliva connecting lips to cock. He stood. Turned the prince. Bent him over the edge of the bed. Rowan caught the flash of Cassian’s smooth back. The curve of his ass still faintly marked from earlier nights. Draven entered him in one long thrust. No preparation beyond spit and lingering slick.
Cassian cried out. Sharp. Broken. Then melting into a moan as Draven set a punishing rhythm. The bed creaked. Flesh slapped flesh. Draven’s low growls mixed with Cassian’s gasps.
Rowan’s hand moved faster now. Stroking firmly through the fabric. Hips rocking subtly into his fist. The sight of Cassian arching. Head thrown back. Eyes glassy with pleasure. It was too much. Rowan bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. Forced himself to slow. To edge. To deny the release that burned in his balls.
Not yet. Not while he’s taking him. I won’t spill for that bastard.
Draven’s thrusts grew erratic. He buried himself deep. Groaning as he spilled inside Cassian. Rowan watched the prince shudder. Hips rocking back instinctively. Chasing his own release. Draven pulled out slowly. Seed dripping from Cassian’s stretched entrance. Glistening on smooth thighs.
The king patted Cassian’s cheek. Almost affectionate. Then strode to the door.
Rowan snapped to attention. Hand dropping away from his groin. Cock throbbing angrily against the confines of his breeches. He willed himself still. Face blank.
Draven paused in the doorway. Smirking.
“Sir Rowan. Enjoy the show?”
Rowan’s jaw clenched. “My duty is to guard. Your Grace.”
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