I agreed to the prince's rite because the ancestral debt demands it. He summons me to the breeding chambers every day, where he milks my breasts until the flow satisfies the verification and then breeds me to advance the timeline. The rite requires public validation of these private acts.

The sessions grow more deliberate with each return. His touch lingers, and my body answers with a hunger that makes the duty feel like something else. The solstice deadline looms over us both, along with the risk of rival claims if our arrangement turns personal.

I could walk away from the arrangement and the risk of attachment. I never do.

Intense 19th-century royal lactation breeding erotica featuring milking sessions and breeding rites by a dominant prince. For readers who crave commanding royals and the women who yield to their daily claims.