The Princess's Private Tutoring - Chapter 0

Prologue

Fixing his gaze on the portrait hanging on the wall, Killian moved his hand urgently.

Each time he did, filthy moans escaped through his clenched teeth.

“Ugh, haa.”

Kneeling down, he exhaled a mix of sighs and groans while running his hand firmly up and down his shaft and bucking his hips.

The slit of his penis kept twitching, releasing fluid. The area around the urethra glistened with smeared precum.

He rubbed his fingers around the slit.

His waist twisted, and hot breaths rushed out as if he had sprinted at full speed.

Though his eyes wanted to close from the dizzying pleasure, he forced himself to stay focused. Blood vessels burst in his wide-open eyes.

Even so, he didn’t take his eyes off the portrait.

Gripping his shaft tightly enough to make the forearm muscles bulge, he moved his hand more vigorously.

As the pleasure surged, his tense thighs and buttocks trembled.

“Haa, Cele, ngh.”

He clenched his teeth to swallow the name that was about to burst out.

It was a name he must never utter. A noble being who must never be defiled.

Barely managing to keep her name down, Killian sneered at himself.

He had no intention of doing this while staring at her portrait.

But getting hard just from seeing her was something Killian couldn’t control.

He couldn’t drive her out of his head either.

He tried to force himself to think of anything else, but Celestia’s image only grew clearer.

The more he tried to get away from her, the dirtier his fantasies became. The more captivated he was by her purity, the more he turned into a beast.

He imagined the damp sex hidden beneath the folds of the dress she held modestly between her thighs in the portrait.

Then instinct whispered: Spread those white thighs now and shove in the snake-headed cock.

Just the thought sent blood rushing to the tip of his glans. Precum welled up like a spring and streamed down the back of his hand.

He must not imagine further. He must not violate her with his vile desires.

To suppress his instincts, he bit the soft flesh inside his mouth until it bled.

But once inflamed, his imagination knew no end.

In his fantasy, he stripped the woman in the portrait, grabbed her ample breasts, and buried his face in her fragrant body.

His already swollen shaft expanded even more. Unable to wrap it with one hand, he gripped it with both and jerked it like a stone pillar.

Thrust, thrust. Each intense stroke made his abs and forearms stand out.

Would releasing this filthy lust, this forbidden desire, rid him of it?

Would cutting off this damn cock stop his insane thoughts?

No. He wouldn’t be able to.

As the pleasure gathered in his hard thighs, flowed past his buttocks, into his lower belly and penis, his rationality dimmed further.

The overwhelming pleasure drove him into a pit of moral corruption.

“Haa, hng.”

The stifled groans resembled painful screams.

He forced his closing eyelids to stay open.

If he couldn’t have her, he would at least keep her in his eyes.

The hands folded neatly on her lap, the flat stomach, the slender waist and full breasts, the straight collarbone and neck, the thirst-inducing lips, the rounded nostrils, and the pure eyes—those green eyes like a fertile meadow.

The moment he faced what tempted and ultimately defiled him, a wave of ecstasy engulfed him.

Veins popped on the back of his shaking hand, his toes curled and stretched. His vision went white as his entire body convulsed.

And then, he released.

“Haa, ngh, Tia, Celestia, Tia!”

With every shout, cloudy white fluid flew in long arcs and splattered in front of the portrait.

Despite several releases, the semen was thick and copious.

Even after the long climax, the ferociously swollen flesh showed no sign of subsiding. The slit still twitched, desiring someone he could never have.

Barely regaining his senses—yet still filled with steam ready to overwhelm him—Killian looked down at the floor dirtied with semen.

“Fucking bastard…”

With a self-deprecating sigh, he lowered his tense thighs onto his calves.

Lowering his head, he looked at the shaft still hanging with white fluid. The organ twitched, waiting for more stimulation.

In response, desire flared again deep beneath his navel.

At the same time, shame, guilt, and self-loathing surged.

He had to stop here. He knew it—but his hand gripped his shaft once more.

To face her tomorrow with a straight face, he had to spend the night doing this filthy act.

He grabbed his shaft. Once climaxed, the cock was even more sensitive, tingling down to his toes and fingertips.

As he repeated this foul act, Killian’s breathing grew rough.

He pushed his body to its limit. To quickly rid himself of this vile desire, he jerked off even more roughly.

The climax built up fast.

“Haa, haa, Tia, Celestia.”

Once you break a taboo, the second time is easy. He said Celestia’s name more easily than the first.

The climax came faster. His upper arms moved up and down, sweat dripped from his forehead, trailing down his chin and hitting the floor.

Then the door opened.

“Killian?”

At the sound of the voice he must not hear, Killian froze. It felt like someone had poured ice water into his head.

Praying it was a mistake, Killian turned his head.

“Killian, is it because of me?”

It was Celestia. She pointed to Killian’s swollen shaft between his thighs.

At her gesture, the glans swelled. Then semen burst from the tip with a pop.

“Ah…”

She had caught him.

The one sanctum he must never defile.