Viktor's tour of the castle was engaging and fascinating. The gardens were less impressive in the winter than the summer, of course, but the evergreen hedges provided some nice color and the camellias would be in bloom soon.
Klara got one giant history lesson, overwhelmed by the knowledge Viktor was able to relay from memory alone. He had to have been a studious boy in his youth, perhaps even nerdy, Klara decided. She did well enough in her public school history classes, but next to him, her knowledge of history was minimal.
Her suspicion was confirmed when, to Viktor's horror, she found a photo of him and a sophisticated older woman on a dresser in an uninhabited bedroom. He must have been in his late teens in the photo. He was gangly, his haircut painfully 80s, dressed at the peak of preppy, and had a grin on his clean-shaven face, revealing his braces. The woman shared many of Viktor's features, dark hair, blue eyes, and a slender figure covered by a brown dress.
Klara squealed with delight, picking up the photo and gawking at it, only making Viktor's embarrassment worse.
"Was this you?" Klara asked, practically buzzing for an answer.
"Yes." Viktor forced himself to admit. She hopped up and down, giddy and girlish like he had never seen her before.
"You were absolutely adorkable! Oh my god, how many women hurt you? You looked so sweet and nerdy and now you're stubbly, serious, and all 'I'll spank you for being a naughty girl.'" Klara teased him with a poor imitation of his snobby accent. Viktor let out a small chuckle and gently took the photo if him and his late mother from Klara and set it back down. She was lucky her girlish behavior was endearing.
"I said we were going on a tour of the castle, my dear, not a tour of my damage." He said, ushering her to move on.
The lovers walked through the hall of family portraits, Viktor rattling off more facts about monarchs and aristocrats of old. They reached the portraits of his parents.
His mother, Princess Anne, was the woman from that photograph before. In this painting, she was much younger, probably not even twenty, posing in a ballgown with starburst shaped pins in her curled hair, and had a mischievous gleam in her eye. His father, Prince Heinrich, however, was incredibly serious, his eyes were stern and cutting, he wasn't much older than Anne, but he looked it. Viktor didn't seem to have the same fond memories of his late father as he did his mother, he was very curt when talking about the man.
The pair passed by an unoccupied bedroom with a portrait that caught her eye.
"Who's that?" She asked. Viktor saw which portrait she was looking at. He directed her into the bedroom and closed the doors behind him.
The painting she was looking at was painted during the early renaissance. It was a nude of a young woman standing in triumphant, heavenly light. She had cascading waves of venetian blonde hair, blue eyes, rosy lips, and a plump, pale body that, in its time, must have invoked a promise of opulence, fertility, and pleasure.
"That was King Wilhelm's mistress, Lady Catalina Vanozza. In the late 13th century, she was regarded as the most beautiful woman in all of Christendom." Viktor looked at her, and back to the painting, as if comparing them. "You look strikingly similar." Viktor spoke his mind, making a quick addendum. "You're trimmer, of course, but-"
"Relax, I get what you're saying. Apparently you royals have a type." Klara let him know she wasn't offended at the comparison.
"It was rumored that the first place Catalina and Wilhelm made love was in a Vatican confessional after Wilhelm travelled to gain the Pope's blessing for his marriage to his queen, Catherine."
"I come from a one church town, and if there's one thing I know, enclosed spaces in churches see plenty of unholy things." Klara said, very unsurprised. Viktor chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him, their bodies flush, side-by-side. He felt less lonely with her, she bared so much of herself to him, she seemed so bubbly and friendly for such a morally ambiguous woman. There was something this woman was hiding, probably hiding behind a veneer of the calculating, competent, and independent professional he met that first day. Viktor wondered if he could draw it out of her before she left.
"I'm not a religious man, but I would be disappointed to see the catholic church fade into obscurity, a healthy dose of catholic guilt makes sex more interesting."
"Didn't you say there was an abbey here earlier?"
"Yes, is that our next stop?" Viktor asked. Klara nodded, the pair leaving, his hand moving down to the small of her back.
After touring the abbey, Viktor lead her into the library, which left Klara dumbfounded. The only thing comparable was her university library. Klara told Viktor that she read as a form of escapism, hanging around her small town bookstore on weekends, wanting to explore new places through books and visit the three cats that lived there.
The pair took tea later in the afternoon, well, Viktor took his tea, Klara was under the table getting ready to suck his cock.
"What if someone sees us?" Klara asked, knowing Viktor wouldn't care.
"It doesn't matter, now, you told me you were hungry, more sucking and less chatter." He spoke dismissively, moaning in arrogant satisfaction when she eagerly polished the head of his cock with her wet tongue. "That's better. Your mouth is better suited to sucking cock than asking stupid questions." Klara let out a soft moan, she was starting to really enjoy how much more stuck-up he sounded when she sucked him off. She couldn't determine whether she was more attracted to his accent or the condescension, it was like trying to compare a fang to its venom, all she knew is that it made her feel eager to please, eager to make that voice waver.
"Remove everything covering those lovely breasts of yours." Viktor's command was languid. Klara did as she was told, continuing to lick and suck as she removed her cardigan, her mouth only leaving his cock briefly so she could pull her sweater over her head and unhook her bra.
Viktor hummed in pleasure and sipped his tea (pinky up, of course), it was good to be royalty. He could feel her sloppy lips travel further and further down his cock until they wrapped around the hilt and the rest of him was kept nice and warm by her fuckable throat. He grabbed her hair and kept her like that, her throat stuffed so full of his cock she gagged around it, making her throat deliciously tight around him. He looked down to see her lovely eyes looking up at him, she might have looked innocent if his cock wasn't engulfed by her whorish lips.
He removed his hand from her hair, giving her permission to start bobbing her head along his shaft, her tits bouncing in time as she lavished his cock with nice long strokes, her tongue teasing the underside of his cock and around the head.
"Oh fuck yes." He moaned lasciviously. "Good girl, you just keep doing that." Klara could feel the muscles around his pelvis and thighs tense, he was getting close. "I'm going to fill your mouth with cum, and you'll be so very sorry if you don't swallow every last drop." Klara crooned around his cock, she was a swallower.
Viktor came, throwing his head back and crying out as his hot cum filled her eager mouth and coated her tongue. Klara waited for him to empty all the seed he was going to before she swallowed. His seed was thick and neutral if not somewhat bitter tasting, not bad tasting at all to Klara.
"Your highness, it tastes so good, I want more." Klara started sucking his oversensitive, softening cock, making him gasp, as if he was feeling something between pleasure and pain.
"Klara, Klara, fuck, that's too much." He plead, but she kept sucking. "Klara, please, I need a little respite. Come have tea." Klara eventually obeyed, crawling out from under the table, about to put her bra back on when Viktor stopped her. "I never said you could put your clothes back on."
Klara dropped her bra before joining Viktor, wriggling around to get comfortable on his disheveled lap, fly open with his limp cock now smothered by her round, clothed ass. Klara looked like the cat that got the cream, satisfied with how she made him beg, taking him down from a demanding pompous ass, and he didn't seem too disappointed either.
She poured herself some tea and snacked on a small bowl of fruit and nuts. Viktor took her breasts in his hands and lazily massaged them.
"Thank you for the tour." Klara said.
"It's a pleasure." Viktor purred against her ear. "I have to ask, how did a woman with breasts like yours end up an accountant of all things?"
"Is there a cup size limit I haven't heard about?"
"No, thankfully not, otherwise I may not have met you." He kissed her neck. "It's just that women with some combination of exceptionally attractive features tend to be offered the world by at least a few men." Viktor's kisses were tender, not causing further bruising on the fair skin.
"There have been a few, most of them weird and old." Klara sighed, raising her teacup to her lips and sipping the last of her tea.
"How old do you think I am?"
"Late thirties?" Klara guessed, sounding somewhat unsure. Viktor chuckled and pinched her nipple, making her squeak.
"Flattery will get you far." Viktor's breath was hot against her ear. "I'm forty-eight."
"Oh God." Klara was shocked. "You're older than my dad."
"Really?" Viktor was genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, where I'm from, most people get married and have kids right out of high school. And then there's me, single at twenty-five and screwing an Austrian prince almost twice my age."
"Hmm, let me guess, you and your father didn't have the best relationship."
"No, my dad and I got along great, I had a good childhood. Which makes this whole fucking a man older than my dad thing surprising."
"Maybe you just miss the warmth and safety of a nest." His hand slowly slid up the hem of her skirt. "Small town girl in a big city, all alone, having to make all your own choices. You just want to find a place where you know what to expect because you've been told what to expect." He rubbed her thighs gently and slowly, paying attention to her heavier breathing. "And I must say, you've found yourself in quite a nest." His fingers inched ever closer to her cunt.
"Oh god, please." Klara gasped, arching her back.
"Please who?" Viktor hissed in her ear.
"Please, your highness-"
"No, dear girl, not this time." Viktor's fingers teased just around her cunt, any slight of hand and he would be touching it. "Call me daddy."
Klara was not ready for that. She arched her back so much Viktor's free hand pressed against her belly to bring her back close to him, keeping it planted there as his other hand still teased around her inner thighs. Daddy , Klara knew it was popular for girls to call their partners that in bed, but her ex thought it was creepy and she just dropped it. She'd figure a prince would be less likely to want to be called daddy, it seemed beneath him.
"Yes, daddy." Klara finally answered him after a long pause, the words seemed foreign even though she was the one speaking them. Viktor's fingers finally started feeling around her folds and circled around her clit, just avoiding it.
"That's it, good girl. Do you need me to take care of that poor, swollen clit of yours?"
"Yes, please daddy."
Viktor lavished her throat with kisses as he rubbed her clit, relishing in her cries of 'fuck, daddy,' 'more, daddy,' 'faster, daddy,' and more of the sort.
As she came, Viktor decided he was making progress, he scratched the veneer, he would draw out what she kept hidden from the world, he was determined.