"Ah…! So deep! So good! More—give me more! Give me that cock, Prince Clovis!"
The blonde, voluptuous girl screamed in uncontrollable ecstasy.
Her heavy tits bounced wildly with every rough thrust, each one slamming into her tight, wet hole with the sheer force of Prince Clovis's thick, brutal cock.
Her moans echoed through the room as her juices gushed around him, her body responding to every deep push like it was made just to be used by him.
Her mind was barely holding on—every thrust blurred the line between pain and overwhelming pleasure. Her breath came in hot, ragged gasps, her voice cracking from how much she'd already screamed.
"Ahhh! I'm cumming! I'm cumming—please, fuck, fill me up! I want all of your cum, Prince Clovis!"
"Fuck…! Fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna cum!" Clovis growled like a beast, and with a final savage thrust, he erupted deep inside her.
He held her by the hips, grinding into her as his cock pulsed, unloading thick, hot ropes of cum straight into her freshly deflowered pussy, painting her insides white as her cunt convulsed around him.
The force of it broke her.
Eyes rolled back, her mouth slack, she let out a long, trembling cry before her body spasmed violently in climax.
Then—nothing.
Her body went limp.
The sheer intensity of the orgasm fried her brain for a moment, and she passed out mid-moan, her body twitching slightly beneath him.
Clovis looked down at her ruined form and smirked.
Her legs were still spread, cunt twitching, his cum leaking out of her thoroughly wrecked pussy.
He leaned in, pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to her forehead, then pulled the blanket over her used, naked body.
Clovis dressed himself calmly, running a hand through his disheveled hair before exiting the room, his face the picture of calm satisfaction.
Outside, in the dimly lit hallway of Ashford Academy, Lord Ashford—the girl's father—was already waiting. He stood silently with a cold expression, saying nothing.
Clovis stepped out, still reeling from the intensity of the night.
He pulled out his own cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag, the taste of nicotine mingling with the memory of her voice moaning his name.
They said nothing.
There was nothing that needed to be said.
Maybe it was awkward. Maybe it was just... expected.
So they simply walked off into a quieter part of the estate, smoke trailing behind them—two men sharing a silence that spoke volumes.
Seeing that there was no one around and the area was private enough for a serious conversation, Lord Ashford finally spoke. "Is it really necessary to be this cautious, Prince Clovis?"
Clovis scoffed, his expression turning sharp.
"No wonder your house fell short the moment Queen Marianne was gone, Lord Ashford. Do you really think everyone around here is absolutely loyal to you? Who knows how many eyes have already watched us before we even arrived here?"
His tone was laced with disdain at Lord Ashford's lack of caution.
Despite his usual flamboyant and seemingly careless attitude, Clovis was far from naive. He always showed people exactly what he wanted them to see.
When he visited Lelouch and Nunnally, his grand and theatrical presence wasn't a coincidence—it was intentional.
He believed that whether he came in secret or openly, the Emperor, his father, would know either way.
He never believed that Charles wouldn't have spies planted around Ashford Academy.
If he truly hadn't, then how had he figured out Lelouch was Zero so easily? Especially when even Milly and her influential family—who were directly involved—didn't see it coming?
It didn't add up.
Maybe Clovis couldn't remember every little detail about how it happened, but it didn't matter.
If he intended to pull off something grand, something that could shift the balance of power, he needed to treat every step with paranoia. Every movement had to be calculated. He needed to bare his fangs only when he held absolute power and control.
"I believe if anyone is spying on us now, they'll only see two men having a private talk about your 'concerns' over your daughter losing her virginity before marriage has even begun. Don't you agree, Lord Ashford?" Clovis smirked as he said it.
Lord Ashford went pale, horrified, and only now fully understood why Clovis had asked him to wear that cold expression when they first met outside of the chamber.
It wasn't about drama—it was a performance for anyone watching.
Whether there was actually a spy or not didn't matter anymore. He had to assume they were there. Had to believe it. Because in this world, assuming safety was how men like him lost everything.
The idea that Charles would just abandon Area Eleven, leaving it to be used as Clovis's personal playground for indulgence and hedonism, seemed completely illogical if there weren't eyes and ears in place to keep things monitored.
Especially considering Area Eleven was the most valuable colony when it came to mining Sakuradite—the essential energy source for Knightmares, functioning like oil does on Earth.
No way Charles would let something that important go unwatched.
It seemed that being away from the battlefield for too long had dulled his instincts—his edge and his sense of caution.
Lord Ashford realized it only too late, and now, all he could do was look at Prince Clovis with a bitter kind of gratitude, the kind a man gives another when reminded just how replaceable he truly is.
"Thank you for the reminder, Prince Clovis," Lord Ashford muttered, his voice low and laced with self-loathing. "I almost forgot that everything under us—every soldier, every inch of land, every drop of blood—belongs to the Emperor. How arrogant of me, to think my men were loyal to me, and not to him."
He exhaled, the bitterness in his tone cutting deeper than any blade.
Prince Clovis, sensing the foul shift in mood, offered with that same unnerving calmness of his, "Want a cigarette, Lord Ashford? Might help you relax a little."
Lord Ashford gave a small nod. Clovis reached into his pocket and handed him a cigarette.
With a flick of his lighter, Lord Ashford lit the tip, inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around his face.
The two of them smoked together in silence, the tension between them now mixed with shared exhaustion and silent understanding.
After a long drag, Lord Ashford finally spoke again, his voice laced with reluctant admiration.
"It seems everyone underestimated you, Prince Clovis. Even someone like me—older, supposedly wiser—couldn't match your cunning."
Clovis gave no response, only a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Even though you know it, and I know it, what can we really do?" Lord Ashford continued. "In the end, we're just pawns. If we even try to investigate the spies His Majesty planted among us, he'll know immediately. There's nothing we can do but play our parts... no matter how distasteful it gets."
He took another drag, smoke flowing from his mouth as he looked down at the cigarette burning between his fingers. "So tell me, should we do something about this, Prince Clovis?"
"No. We do nothing," Clovis replied firmly, shaking his head.
He took a drag from his own cigarette, the two men once again lost in the rhythm of their respective smokes, surrounded by silence.
"Instead of worrying about how we're going to defend ourselves from the Emperor's suspicions, we should focus on pushing forward with our plans to reclaim Southeast Asia from the Chinese Federation," Clovis said at last. "Father won't stop us. The other nobles wouldn't dare interfere. Britannia was born for war—we thrive on it, and history always favors the ones who act."
Lord Ashford gave a slow nod, but there was a sharp glint in his eyes now—something calculating.
"I believe you orchestrated this entire charade just to speak with me where no one could hear it—even at the cost of my daughter's virginity. Don't tell me it was all for something so trivial, Lord Clovis."
Prince Clovis met his gaze and finally speak.
But what did he say?
You'll find out... in the next chapter.