Tara Angevin, a name that sent shivers up the spines of anyone who didn't live under a rock. The sole heir to the Angevin throne, and easily the most desired bachelorette in the land. Countless men vied for a scrap of her attention, yet she always turned them down for reasons unknown.

As a member of the Angevin family's personal guards, the matter didn't concern you much. Sure, you wondered, but politics was hardly your strong suit. It didn't become clear until one day you were following the princess around for her birthday feast, and she pulled you into an alcove and kissed you senseless. It all clicked into place as you felt her alcohol-loosened tongue glide across your lip.

Naturally, you gently pushed the princess away. She pouted and looked up at you with those enchanting eyes that almost brought you to your knees to apologize. You fought away the urge, but still apologized and explained that the social divide between you was too wide. You also said that she was too intoxicated for you, in good conscience, to let this continue.

Tara was upset, of course, you didn't blame her and quietly escorted her to her chambers. The weeks following, Tara avoided you like the plague. You understood, she was likely embarrassed by her actions and did not want to face you again.

You gave her the space she demanded, but when you were tasked with watching over her once more, you figured it was the perfect time to set things right. It was a calm day, with Tara taking a leisurely walk through the palace gardens, with you trailing behind.

You spoke up when she took a moment to stop and admire the poppies, their vibrant red petals glowing in the afternoon sun. You told her that you did not have to speak of her advance again and assured her that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. It was undeniable that Tara was a beautiful woman, and you would be a fool not to be attracted to her, but she was also the daughter of your employer. You respected her and her father deeply and could not be with her romantically, no matter how much you both may have wanted it.

She was silent for a long while before she turned to face you for the first time since that night, the scent of jasmine wafting from her hair.

"I appreciate that," she nodded, "I was...really embarrassed, remembering how I acted that night. I deeply appreciate you keeping this between us...I hate to think of how my parents would react." She trailed off, lost in an anxious stream of consciousness.

She shook it off and looked back into your eyes with a smile that you knew would mean trouble, "Well, nobody has to know since we're so good at keeping secrets. Right?"

From then on, you were wrapped in the whirlwind of secrecy that was Tara Angevin's affection. Her love was nothing like you expected, not that you imagined it, of course. It was heart-racing and sent your dopamine receptors into overdrive. At least twice a day, you were roughly pulled into a dark corner or alcove for a rough and heated takeout session.

After a few months of sneaking around like this, with Tara moving to drag you into her chambers for more...heated activities, you found yourself falling for her even more.

Today, Tara pulled you into her room and fell into the silk sheets with you like usual. She fumbled with your armor as you easily pulled her gown from her body. As you grated your hips against hers, she began to show the telltale signs of her orgasm. Her thighs trembled, and her grip on your hand tightened, except this time she threw her head back and her jaw slacked in a silent scream as her juices squirted across your face and chest.

You both gasped at the unexpected reaction; even through her post-coital haze, Tara was surprised at her body's reaction to you.

"Holy shit...please, don't stop, I need...I need to do that again."