Seven Days Later - Arclight Estate,

Duchess’s Private Office

The Dowager Duchess’s office was in the east wing. Second floor. Overlooking the gardens. Elegant furniture. Expensive decorations. And most importantly—servants constantly passing in the hallway outside.

Elise sat behind her desk. Reviewing household accounts. Or pretending to. Actually, she was waiting.

A knock at the door.

"Enter."

Draven stepped inside. Closed the door behind him. Locked it with a soft click.

"You’re late," Elise said. Not looking up from her papers.

"I was detained. Marcus tried to corner me in the library."

"And?"

"And I reminded him that attempting to threaten a sitting heir is treason if it happens before coronation." Draven crossed to her desk. "He backed down. For now."

"Three days," Elise said quietly. "Three days until the trial. Seven until his coronation."

"He won’t make it to the coronation."

"I know." She finally looked up at him. "But these last few days... Draven, I’m terrified. Not of Marcus failing. Of him succeeding. Of him finding some way to escape. To hurt you."

"He won’t." 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"You don’t know that."

"I do." He moved behind her desk. Hands on her shoulders. "Marcus is finished. The evidence is absolute. The witnesses are secured. The Crown has authorized the tribunal. There’s no escape."

"Then why do I feel like something’s going to go wrong?"

"Because you’re human. You still have fear." His hands slid down. Over her collarbone. Toward her breasts. "I don’t. The Abyss Core took that away."

"Draven, the servants—"

"Are outside. In the hallway. Where they can’t see through walls." His hands cupped her breasts through her dress. Squeezed gently. "But they might hear. If you’re not careful."

Elise’s breath caught. "This is dangerous."

"That’s what makes it exciting."

He pulled her up from the chair. Spun her to face him. Kissed her hard. Possessive.

She melted into it. All her fear, all her tension, flowing out. Replaced by need.

"We can’t," she whispered against his lips. "Not here. Not now."

"Yes we can." He backed her against the desk. "And yes we will."

He reached down. Pulled up her dress. No small talk. No foreplay. Just raw need.

Underneath—nothing. She’d come here prepared.

"No undergarments," he noted. "You planned this."

"Maybe." Her hands went to his belt. "Maybe I needed this. Needed you. Needed to forget about trials and Marcus and fear. Even for a few minutes."

"A few minutes?" Draven grinned. "I’m insulted. I’ll give you at least thirty."

He pushed her back onto the desk. Papers scattering. Spread her legs. Dropped to his knees.

"Draven, we don’t have time for—oh!"

His tongue found her clit. Circled. Flicked.

Elise’s hand flew to her mouth. Muffling the moan that wanted to escape.

slurp~ lick~

He worked her expertly. Knowing every spot. Every pressure point. Building her up fast.

"Stop," she gasped. "Someone will hear—"

"Then don’t make noise." He slid two fingers inside her. Curled. Hit that perfect spot.

"Mmph!" Her hand clamped tighter over her mouth.

He increased the pace. Fingers pumping. Tongue working her clit. Relentless.

First orgasm hit fast. She bit her hand. Stifling the scream. Body shaking. Thighs trembling around his head.

He pulled back. Stood. Unbuckled his belt.

"Turn around. Hands on the desk."

Elise obeyed. Bending over her own desk. Presenting herself.

Draven positioned behind her. Rubbed his cock against her entrance. Teasing.

"Please," she whispered.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me. Breed me. Make me forget everything except being yours."

He thrust in. Deep. Sudden.

THRUST~

Elise’s mouth opened. Silent scream. Hand over her lips. Desperately quiet.

slap slap slap~

The sound of flesh meeting flesh. Loud in the quiet office. But not loud enough to carry through the door.

Hopefully.

"Stay quiet," Draven growled. "Or the servants will hear their Duchess being fucked by her son."

That word. Son. Sent lightning through her.

Second orgasm. Harder than the first. She bit her hand. Drew blood. Anything to stay silent.

Footsteps in the hallway.

Both of them froze.

"My lady?" A servant’s voice through the door. "Are you well? I heard... noises."

Elise’s eyes went wide. Panic.

Draven didn’t pull out. Stayed buried inside her. Perfectly still.

"I’m fine," Elise called out. Voice strained but controlled. "Knocked over some books. Just cleaning up."

"Do you need assistance?"

"No. Thank you. I’ll manage."

Pause. The servant considering.

"Very well, my lady."

Footsteps retreating.

Both of them exhaled.

"That was close," Elise whispered.

"Too close." Draven pulled out. Grabbed her hair. Gentle but firm. "On your knees. Need to taste those breasts."

She dropped. He pulled down the front of her dress. Her breasts spilled free. Heavy. Full. Already leaking.

Milk ran down her skin. White trails on pale flesh.

Draven latched onto her left nipple. Sucked hard.

slurp~

Milk flooded his mouth. Warm. Sweet. Perfect.

Elise’s hand went back over her mouth. The sensation—being drained while being bred—was overwhelming.

"More," he commanded.

He switched breasts. Right nipple now. Drawing deeply. One hand between her legs. Fingers pumping.

thrust thrust~ squelch~

Third orgasm. She convulsed. Nearly fell. He caught her. Kept drinking. Kept fingering.

"Stand up. Bend over the chair."

She moved. Shaky legs. Bent over the armchair facing the window. Ass up.

Draven positioned behind her. This time, higher.

"Wait," Elise whispered. "Not there. That’s—"

He pressed against her asshole. "That’s mine. Like everything else."

"The servants—"

"Will hear you scream if you’re not careful." He pushed. Just the tip. "So be. Very. Quiet."

He pushed deeper. Inch by inch. Stretching her. Claiming her last hole in the most forbidden way possible.

In her office.

Where anyone could knock.

Where anyone could hear.

"Nnngh~" The sound escaped despite her best efforts.

slap slap slap~

He fucked her ass. Steady rhythm. Deep and possessive. One hand reached around. Found her clit.

"Come for me. Quietly."

Fourth orgasm. Anal. Her whole body went rigid. Every muscle locked. Silent scream.

He pulled out. Flipped her over. Laid her across the desk again.

Thrust back into her pussy. Face to face. Eye contact.

"I love you," he said. Simple. Direct.

"I love you." Tears streaming. From pleasure. From fear. From relief. From everything.

thrust thrust thrust~

They moved together. Building. Climbing.

"Five more minutes," Elise gasped. "Before the afternoon meeting. Servants will come to prepare the room—"

"Then we make this count."

He increased the pace. Pounding her. Desk creaking. Books falling.

Her breasts bounced. Milk spraying with each impact.

He leaned down. Mouth to her nipple. Drinking while fucking.

slurp~ thrust~ slurp~ thrust~

"Draven—I’m—"

Fifth orgasm. She bit his shoulder. Hard. Breaking skin. Muffling the scream that wanted to tear from her throat.

"One more," he panted. "Give me one more."

"I can’t—"

"You can."

He shifted angle. Hitting her cervix with each thrust. His free hand pressed against her lower belly. Feeling himself move inside her.

"You’re going to come. And you’re going to stay silent. And then you’re going to sit at this desk. Covered in my cum. And pretend to work while servants prepare for your meeting. Understanding?"

"Yes!"

"Good mother."

Those words. Always those words.

Sixth orgasm. Mind-breaking. She grabbed a pillow from the chair. Screamed into it. Full voice. Completely muffled.

Draven felt his own release building. "Where?"

"Inside. Always inside. Breed your mother in her office."

He came. Buried deep. Flooding her womb.

spurt spurt spurt~

They stayed connected. Breathing hard. Covered in sweat and milk and cum.

A knock at the door.

"My lady? It’s time to prepare for the afternoon council meeting."

Elise’s eyes went wide. Fuck.

"One moment!" she called. Voice remarkably steady considering she was still impaled on her son’s cock.

They separated. Lightning fast. Draven pulled out. Tucked himself away. Fixed his clothes.

Elise grabbed a cloth. Cleaned herself. Pulled up her dress. Smoothed her hair.

The desk was a disaster. Papers everywhere. Milk stains on the wood.

"The window," Draven whispered. He grabbed her. Kissed her once more. "I’ll see you tonight. Private chambers. Midnight."

"Go!"

He slipped out the window. Second floor. Dropped to the garden. Rolled. Stood. Walked away casual as you please.

Elise took three deep breaths. Straightened the desk. Arranged herself behind it.

"Enter."

Three servants came in. Began setting up for the meeting. Arranging chairs. Bringing refreshments.

If they noticed anything—the smell of sex, the milk stains, the flushed duchess—they said nothing.

Professionalism.

Elise sat. Legs pressed together. Feeling Draven’s cum leaking from her. Warm. Claiming.

She smiled.

That Evening - Draven’s Quarters

Duke Valerius sat across from Draven. Both holding wine. Both calm.

"Three days," Valerius said. "The trial begins in three days."

"I know."

"Everything is prepared. Witnesses secured. Evidence verified. Legal framework approved by the Crown."

"I know."

"Marcus has made no successful moves against us. All his assassination attempts failed. His allies have abandoned him. He’s isolated."

"I know."

Valerius smiled. "You’re very confident."

"I have reason to be."

"Indeed." Valerius sipped his wine. "After the trial. After Marcus is executed. After you become Duke. What then?"

"Then I rebuild. Repair the damage Marcus did. Restore the Arclight name."

Valerius stood. "Three days, Draven. Then we change the kingdom."

"Three days," Draven agreed.

After Valerius left, Draven sat alone. Reviewing everything. The evidence. The witnesses. The plan.

Nothing could go wrong.

Nothing would go wrong.

Three days until the trial.

Seven until Marcus’s scheduled coronation.

But Marcus would be dead long before then.