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“Your Majesty? You have a visitor.”
These unwelcome words cause a strain of disgust in Ganondorf, as he glances up and finds one of his own guards present in the doorway of his bedchambers. He finds a slight relief in the scarlet hair, keen eyes and glinting spear of one of his kinswomen, instead of one of those incompetent Hylian guards or the clumsy, chiming robots King Rauru favors using in his halls to run errands and such.
“Send them in,” the Gerudo chieftain answers gruffly. After spending the vast majority of his day listening to the foolish prattle of the Zonai king, discussing useless matters of diplomacy and trade and playing at honeyed schemes, Ganondorf is in no mood to contend with any more of Rauru’s tricks tonight.
When the heavy wooden door swings open though, slow and almost cautious, it’s all he can do to mask his surprise. The visitor is no servant or construct, but perhaps the most unlikely person imaginable– King Rauru’s other little guest, the petite, golden-haired Hylian woman Ganondorf had seen standing beside Queen Sonia’s throne, and later on at the lavish banquet given in honor of the Gerudo chieftain and his people. Sonia’s cousin, someone had said she was, and the resemblance is unmistakable– the little woman shares the queen’s shapely form and thick blonde hair, starry green eyes like dew-kissed fern leaves. She’s young, he gathers, perhaps twenty-five at the most.
“Well, Zelda. It’s most unusual for me to receive visitors so late– let alone to my private chambers,” Ganondorf admits wryly, arching one thick eyebrow as he watches the girl make her way slowly into the room. Her gaze scans him hesitantly, as if expecting a scolding, but she doesn’t stop until she’s fully inside, the heavy door shutting behind her with a soft thump. “I must admit though,” Ganondorf finishes, “it’s a most welcome surprise, my dear.”
Zelda’s cheeks bloom faintly with color, a soft smile gracing her lips once she realizes she hasn’t incurred the wrath of the Gerudo chieftain. “M-My sincerest apologies for interrupting, your Majesty,” she starts, her eyes flying over his writing desk and then landing on his bed, before she quickly looks back at him. Her throat bobs in a hard swallow, and he notices that the zonaite choker bearing her sacred stone is missing.
Of course. Clever girl. Ganondorf mentally scoffs, but he can’t deny that he’s intrigued by her cunning. Yet another facet of the mysterious, tiny woman that draws him in, causes him to memorize every curve and sun-kissed hollow of her petite young body.
“Was there something you desired from me, Zelda?” Ganondorf’s baritone is calm and even, but there’s a slight suggestive undercurrent in his voice that sends a shudder of excitement down the princess’ spine. “I must warn you, you may find me somewhat lacking as a conversationalist.” His laughter is dry, but his gaze is hungry, deep-set golden eyes bearing deep into her limpid green ones. She shivers and swallows again.
“I wished to seek your company,” she murmurs, her heart fluttering uncertainly in her breast. She watches as his eyebrow lifts again, almost in skepticism. Does he think her lying to him? She almost bristles, but pauses when he clicks his tongue in rumination. The husky sound makes her limbs quiver.
“How strange,” Ganondorf remarks, after a pause that is entirely too long. Tension hangs warm and uncertain between them, like a desert wind stirring the dunes to life. “Of all the people in this castle, you seek me out, Zelda? Why not King Rauru or his sister, or even Queen Sonia?” There’s the tiniest note of bitterness in his tone, though it goes unnoticed by the princess, young and innocent as she is.
Zelda swallows, her fingers subconsciously working at her sides. “I-I fear I’m already quite the burden to them,” she admits, offering a sad smile– how strange that one so scarcely touched by age can wear such a look. It’s gone as quickly as it came though, and she takes a step nearer to the Gerudo chieftain, seeming undaunted by the way his height towered over her little body. “But you are a fellow guest in these halls, Lord Ganondorf,” she murmurs, green eyes searching his face, “a-and I thought perhaps.. perhaps that..” She trails off, softly-freckled cheeks flushing red.
Intriguing. Not at all the request he would’ve imagined, even if her dignity betrayed her into not forming the words aloud. Ganondorf feels a dark stirring in his loins as he surveys the delicate princess, all creamy skin and short golden hair, her elegant body clad in the spun white and green silks of the Hyrulean royal family. For a moment the doubt returns– has Zelda guessed how often he looks at her with burning desire, ever since he’d seen her that first night in the fool Rauru’s throne room? There’s something about her that draws him in, snares him in a peculiar net of light and draws out the bestial instincts he’s spent years masking and subduing.
“That is.. quite an unconventional request, is it not, little princess?” Ganondorf smiles, showing his teeth, and watching the shiver pass over her shoulders. He decides to press her, testing the waters. “What would King Rauru say? Certainly he wouldn’t approve of his little ward seeking the– pleasures of a fellow king.”
He doesn’t care a damn what the Zonai thinks, but his comment makes her blush even redder, the tips of her ears flushing rose. “K-King Rauru knows nothing of my coming here,” she admits, and somehow Ganondorf instinctively knows she’s speaking the truth. “Neither does Queen Sonia.”
Well. The Gerudo chieftain licks his lips slowly, unable to stop himself from savoring the incredibly favorable– if bizarre– opportunity. So this little goddess sought him out, desired him.
His sharp teeth clench and he straightens, slowly walking around the side of his writing desk to where she stands, her bare feet nestled in the braided rug. Zelda’s eyes flicker up at him– very far up; the king is easily twice her height. He can see her breath catch in her pretty throat.
“I should warn you, little one, I rarely take a lover into my bed,” Ganondorf half-purrs, watching the blush steal over Zelda’s flawless skin. “I’m not a gentle lover, and I like to rule.”
She shudders, but doesn’t quail. “I’m not afraid of you, Lord Ganondorf,” she says, with a surprising amount of boldness.
The Gerudo king closes the gap between their bodies, so much so that Zelda can almost catch the spiced scent of his hair oil. His very presence is almost overpowering, the way the aura of a room instinctively shifts when he moves; she finds herself enthralled by the burning gaze of his deep-set golden eyes. This is her last chance to change her mind, she knows, to flee like the frightened little girl she once was– but she stands her ground, and instead reaches up to capture Ganondorf’s bearded lips in a passionate kiss.
For the smallest of seconds, he’s caught off guard by her utter boldness; the audacity of such a lovely little thing to entice him in his own chamber. Lust broils inside him like a sandstorm, and he quickly shifts gears, taking control of the kiss with his tongue and sharp teeth. He bites down hard on her lower lip, so plump and soft, and she pants and yields to him, her small hands flailing for his waist.
On some level, Zelda knows this is a terrible idea, as she allows herself to slowly melt into the all-consuming strength and heat that is the king of the Gerudo. She scarcely comes up to his chest, her lithe young body all too easily dwarfed by his towering height and the iron muscles rippling beneath his mahogany skin. He can so easily crush her, she thinks, and her heartbeat catches in her throat. But she doesn’t run.
“Take me to your bed, your Majesty,” she whispers in his ear. The tiniest shred of vulnerability. “Please.”
Ganondorf’s purr of acceptance is like the quiet rumble of a lion. “I will do much more than that, Zelda,” he answers, without the slightest shred of uncertainty, and she shudders instinctively with both arousal and fear. It’s all she can do not to rub her thighs together, but she doesn’t dare reveal to the Gerudo chief just exactly how worked up she already is– everything his voice and sheer presence already does to her.
Zelda knows it’s too late to back out now, but maybe the most disturbing thing of all is that she doesn’t want to. When Ganondorf’s bearded lips engulf her own again in a kiss that could only be described as possessive, a most undignified sound escapes her lips– not the timid squeak of a maiden caught off guard by the advances of a king, but an enticing moan of want. Her body ignites as if her veins suddenly become channels of electricity, and she opens her mouth for him, giving him entrance.
Ganondorf’s grip around her lithe waist tightens and he growls in appreciation, seizing the proffered sweetness in jaws of steel. Zelda’s taste is something entirely unique to him; a melding of warm honey and dew-kissed blossoms, edged with the taste of apples and light white wine. His teeth nip at her lower lip and then he bites down hard, delighting in the shudder it produces in her; the way her whine of surprise is muffled in the heat of their kiss.
All too soon, Ganondorf pulls away, and Zelda huffs in frustration. Then his lips are back on her skin, trailing searing kisses along the curve of her throat, the promise of sharp teeth lurking underneath. “Don’t fret, my princess. I have no intention of leaving you unsatisfied,” the king promises, both lust and amusement glittering in his hooded golden eyes, as if he senses her apprehension. Zelda meets his gaze boldly with green eyes equally clouded with desire; her small hands settle on his waist, pulling him closer to her. Ganondorf can feel something hot and pure humming beneath her skin, as if her very blood is liquid gold; he lusts after it like a ravenous wolf.
Mothers, he needs this woman.
Zelda pants heavily as he explores her creamy skin with lips and teeth, tiny electric sparks flickering through her with every touch. She wants more, and it’s only a mere second before she lunges forward, sinking her own pearly teeth into the firm flesh of his shoulder. Ganondorf groans against her, one large hand fully engulfing her slim wrists and pulling them above her head, and a heady thrill runs through Zelda’s veins. She glares up at him with the bold smile of a seductress, proud of her ability to take the king of the Gerudo by surprise.
“Little minx,” he breathes, hot and heavy, pure lust running through him like streams of lava. “I love a lamb with the fangs of a dragon.” Pushing her back against the wall, he plunders her mouth with his tongue again, drinking in her muffled moans as one knee drifts between her shaking thighs to slowly push them apart. There’s too much pesky white and green silk in the way, but when he grinds his knee subtly against her pelvis, her back arches and her breasts heave in a gasp.
“Don’t underestimate me, Ganondorf,” Zelda hisses against his skin, her painted arms curling instinctively around the massive bulk of the Gerudo chieftain’s waist. He feels the pulsing warmth below her skin again and his cock throbs against its confines, visibly tenting his gilded loincloth. He makes no move to hide his burgeoning lust, and she moans when she feels the bulge rub seductively against her inner thigh. Oh– oh Hylia, he’s large; far larger than any man she’s had experience with. The realization sends shudders of both anxiety and delight down her arching spine.
Ganondorf smirks a bit arrogantly at her expression, clearly proud of the reaction he’s provoked from her. “Are you sure you can handle a true king, Zelda?” he purrs in her ear, large hands gripping the silks around her waist and starting to hike them up. “It isn’t too late to say no, of course.”
A fearless grin lights Zelda’s face like a breath of sunlight carving through sand. “I can do more than handle it, my king.” Her voice is seductive; her small hands reach down to help him pull the fabric up over her waist, their movements hasty with desire. Ganondorf nearly groans aloud as his gaze traces the curve of Zelda’s thighs, creamy skin kissed with the faintest dusting of freckles; her royal cunt is covered by a pair of pure-white panties edged in lace. He wants to tear them off with his teeth.
“Ganondorf,” Zelda pants, “finish it, my dress is still on,” she sounds vaguely annoyed, her voice choppy with lust as she fumbles with all of the useless fabric and tassels. Ganondorf solves the matter entirely by gripping the damn Zonai-made garment and tearing it over her head, pleased by the gasp that flees Zelda’s lips.
The blood of a goddess truly runs in the princess’ veins; her young, petite body is slender and shapely, her modest breasts restrained by a simple cloth and the curves of her hips enticing him with the slightest movement. Ganondorf drinks in the sight of Zelda bare before him; he catches the slightest hint of nervousness in her eyes before he closes the gap between them, one hand curling around her slim waist to hold him against her, the other roaming teasingly near her still-clothed breasts.
“You are blessed with divine beauty, sweet Zelda,” the king hums in her ear, feeling her shudder beneath him with want. Her gaze locks with his, starry and hungry; she feels it too, the line of oil between them that longs to burst into flame.
“Ganondorf–“ Zelda starts, half a command and half a plea. It’s all the permission he needs to tear the worthless binding from her chest, leaving her plump, rosy-tipped breasts bare to his sight. Her nipples were already pert and swollen, partly from the slight chill in the room. If Ganondorf were a lesser man, the sight of such a beautiful young woman standing nearly naked before him would be enough to push him over the edge, but he is a ruler, a conqueror; he is king. And Zelda is here before him, of her own free will, yearning for the fire of his touch as much as he yearns for hers.
With scarcely any effort, Ganondorf wraps his thick arms around her tiny waist and lifts her onto the bed, placing her amongst the sprawling linens and pillows with surprising care. Zelda gasps at the unexpected gesture, how effortlessly yet gently the Gerudo king handles her, as if she is a prized treasure– as if she is a queen. She’s given very little time to dwell on such matters, though, as Ganondorf’s mouth is on hers again, kissing her hotly and hungrily. His sword-calloused hands roam over her breasts, kneading and rolling smooth creamy flesh, drawing muffled whines from his golden princess. Her skin blooms with new color under his touch, her nipples stiff and aching.
“Ganondorf–“ Zelda is breathing hard, heat emanating from her skin as she grits her teeth to suppress a fresh moan. “I-I’m not made of glass, damn it– touch me,” she orders him, voice shaky with need.
The Gerudo chieftain chuckles. “Indeed you aren’t, my dear,” and he abruptly engulfs her nipple into his mouth, drawing a delicious moan from Zelda. His teeth are sharp, scraping over the oversensitive bud until it’s red like a ripe berry. “Oh,” she gasps, “oh Hylia–“ as he switches from one breast to the other like a starving man sampling the choicest fruits preferred to him on a plate of silver. Each nip and kiss, each laving of his rough tongue on her flesh makes her writhe. The heat in her lower belly knots fresh and wanting; she can scarcely focus on anything but his mouth on her skin.
Then, abruptly Ganondorf pulls away, leaving Zelda frustrated and aching. She’d been so close to her climax, yet he left her at her peak, and a brief flash of anger goes through her mind. But he gives her a devilish smile, eyes glinting with desire, as he uses his large hands to gently part her legs– and then she understands, a shudder of want running through her.
Only the smallest shred of pure white cloth hides her womanhood from him, but he makes quick work of that, his sharp nails tearing through the fabric so roughly it makes Zelda gasp and shiver. “Careful,” she urges, shaking slightly, but doesn’t beg him to stop.
“Relax, my princess; I have no intention of hurting you.” For all the subtlety and cunning Zelda knows he’s capable of, she somehow trusts Ganondorf on this. Breathing in deeply, long-lashed eyes staying fixed on his face, she struggles not to whimper at the sheer lust that crosses his gaze as he drinks in the sight of her young, delicate body laid out naked before him like an offering.
Ganondorf restrains the brute urge to bury his head between Zelda’s slender thighs and eat her out until she’s screaming his name. Her soft mound is adorned only with the slightest tuft of silky gold, neatly trimmed; her folds are puffy and glistening wet in the lamplight, like rose petals crowned with dew. The scent of her alone is like hydromelon and wildflowers; Ganondorf feels he could devour her until there’s nothing left but a golden spirit left to haunt the rest of his days.
“Let me pleasure you, my Zelda,” he offers, dark and husky, his deep-set golden eyes burning with the promise of rapture.
Gods, Zelda knows everything about this is wrong, but she can’t stop herself from nodding eagerly, breath stolen from her lungs. “Please,” she whispers.
Ganondorf lets her small hands tangle in his unruly scarlet hair, tugging at his thick braids as he positions his body between her parted legs. He’s massive compared to Zelda, his shadow alone covering her, and he doesn’t miss the slight whimper of anxiety when she realizes it. He hushes her and she obeys, quieting his inner hunger as he starts out slow, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses just above her mound. Zelda shifts and groans– “Oh, oh gods,” because the desert king’s lips are rough and chapped from the wind, yet they feel divine on her smooth skin; the coarse red hairs of his beard scratch and excite her even more. “More, please; don’t stop,” she begs, voice hitched.
“As my princess desires,” Ganondorf purrs, making no move to hide his lust as he uses his tongue to teasingly prod her hooded clit. Zelda moans loudly, her legs shaking at the sudden electric sensation. He kisses and licks at her with a skill that drives all coherent thoughts from her brain; it’s almost frightening how good he can make her feel with only his tongue. She shudders and whines at the thought of more, but she’s already so close to her peak, her hips moving frantically as she grinds her pussy almost demandingly against the king’s face. Her slender legs lock around his head to keep him in place, and it’s only a matter of seconds before she breaks, muffling a wanton cry into her hand.
“So beautiful,” Ganondorf praises her, drunk on the sight of his Zelda in the throes of pleasure– her cheeks are flushed and her breasts heave with the quick intake of breath; her short hair is mussed against the pillows, her messy crown braid coming unwoven. “But I’m not done with you yet, pretty thing,” and he pulls her lithe body close against his, as she slowly comes down from her high. His teeth scrape against her neck with the promise of more– and how badly she craves it now, almost as much as breathing; she’s fairly shaking with excitement.
“Show me,” Zelda breathes– no, commands, “show me what other delights you can teach me, Ganondorf.”
He almost growls aloud– the fact that this tiny woman, this little goddess in the flesh is commanding the king of the desert– but there’s something so deliciously addictive about her that he can’t deny her. “You should know,” he whispers darkly in her ear, a fair warning; “I’m not known as a gentle lover.”
She stares boldly at him with those same damn blue-green eyes that threaten to suck the soul from his body. “I can take it,” she whispers, in a tone nothing short of seductive. He shudders. “I want you, Ganondorf; all of you.”
The Gerudo chieftain almost doubts her certainty– Zelda’s body is a mere half of his size, and he doubts she’s ever seen a cock as large as his in her life, let alone taken one. But desire and flame are humming as thick as magic in the air, and Ganondorf yields to it, pushing Zelda forward slightly on her knees to face him. “We will need to– prepare somewhat,” he acknowledges, forcing himself to go slowly so as not to cause his princess any unnecessary discomfort. “The fact is, our bodies are very different; I don’t wish to cause you pain.”
“– Let me explore you first then, your Majesty,” Zelda interrupts, her breath hitching as she gazes at the king’s massive form in front of her. He’s truly the largest man she’s ever seen, his height dwarfing even Rauru’s– his shoulders are broad and his chest is a rippling sheen of muscle, dark skin criss-crossed with several jagged scars and kissed by tufts of coarse, curling red hair. Hylian men don’t often have chest hair, so Zelda finds herself entranced by the sight and feel of it as her fingers roam over Ganondorf’s huge chest. “So– so firm,” she murmurs, kneading the unyielding flesh with her small hands. She’s suddenly aware again of how easily he could crush her if he so desires, like a little bird in the claws of a monster. The image fills her with conflicting fear and irrational desire.
Is that what she truly wants? For him to break her?
“What do you think, Zelda?” Ganondorf is plainly proud of his physique; he makes no move to hide the glint of dark amusement as the princess’ hands explore his chest and toned abs, as firm and hard as steel. She pauses when she reaches his waist though, her throat bobbing in a hard swallow as she stares at the tenting bulge below his heavy loincloth. For the first time, she looks.. intimidated.
“By the goddess,” Zelda whispers, “I-I didn’t know it would be so– so large.” Her eyes are wide, pupils blown dark with lust and nerves, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Touch it,” Ganondorf urges, restraining the burgeoning lust he feels at her innocence. She isn’t a virgin, he’s fairly safe in assuming, but it’s obvious from her apprehension that he’d been right in assuming that none of her past lovers had been anywhere near as well endowed as him. A swell of pride knots in his stomach.
Zelda obeys, shaky fingers fumbling with the tassels and cords that hold the ornate Gerudo-made clothing together. Her insides are humming with excitement, making it difficult to focus as she finally casts aside the pesky cloths as if they burn her hands. And then she gasps.
The king was most certainly not exaggerating about his size– the girth of his shaft alone is as thick as her forearm, and its length makes her shudder, instinctively grinding her thighs together. “Sweet Hylia,” she breathes, almost reverently, hesitating before she takes the head of his cock into her palm. It’s angry red and weeping plump beads of precum; the scent of him alone is almost overpowering, like the heady musk of sweat, sand, and exotic spices.
Ganondorf draws in a hissing curse when Zelda takes him in hand. Her skin feels as hot as flames against his; it threatens to scald him alive in holy light. She can barely fit her hand around his full length, and he can see her lips part instinctively, eyes blown wide and dark in wondering lust. The sight sends a jolt of feral want through his loins.
“Take the head into your mouth,” he instructs her, uncertain if she’s ever pleased a man with her sweet mouth, or if all the joys she’s had so far were only in the taking.
“I know how to give a blowjob, my king,” Zelda purrs back, that saucy light returning to her half-lidded green eyes as she kneels between his spread legs. The sound of the words– my king– coming from her pretty lips are like dripping honey. This little princess is teeming with delightful surprises, Ganondorf realizes as Zelda braces herself forward on her hands and knees and takes his cockhead into his mouth without missing a beat.
Her moan is muffled by his throbbing heat; she can feel the cadence of his pulse against her tongue as she begins to explore his shaft with her mouth. She’s given blowjobs before, but admittedly none of her past lovers were anywhere near as large as the king of the desert. Sucking in deep breaths through her nose, she focuses on bobbing her tongue, licking at the head of his cock. His precum tastes salty and a bit bitter, edged in the spicy musk she finds herself craving desperately.
Ganondorf groans deep in his chest; a sound that would frighten a more timid maiden– but Zelda is no flighty creature, she is a queen by birth, a golden goddess caged in the body of a petite young woman. The sight of her kneeling naked and shameless between his large, toned thighs, her shapely ass up in the air and her pretty lips wrapped around his cock, makes the bestial part of him rage wild with lust. “Zelda,” he half-snarls, fighting the urge to tangle his hand in her short hair and pull, if only to hear the obscene sounds it might coax from her rosy lips.
Zelda takes his cock with a valiant fervor, but she struggles when it hits the back of her throat, making her choke and sputter. “Relax, little goddess,” Ganondorf breathes, his voice fairly broiling with desire. “Deep breaths,” and she obeys him, faint tears glittering at the corners of her eyes as she gulps him down. But she’s a determined thing, and after several tries she manages to take him all the way into her throat.
The sight of the beautiful princess choking on his cock sends fresh waves of bestial longing flooding the king’s veins. The sounds that she brings from his lips– heaving sighs, groans, deep-chested growls– they send her cunt weeping between her legs. Her body instinctively yearns for him; she needs him inside her, even if the world burns around them.
With a guttural snarl like a wild thing, Ganondorf spills his hot seed down Zelda’s throat like a blast of fire. She swallows it eagerly in gulping breaths, the taste of salt and spices now branded into her mind. Her head is clouded with desire for the mysterious and powerful Gerudo king that seems to know just what strings to touch to make her body sing for him. Panting, she reaches up– nearly twice her height– and smashes her lips against his, her hot tongue tracing the curve of his bottom lip as she presses the taste of him into his mouth.
“I want you,” she breathes, pleading.
“And I never leave a goddess wanting, Zelda.” Ganondorf nips at her lower lip until she breaks the kiss with a whine. She’s grinding her young body against his; he can almost feel the gushing wetness of her cunt against his thigh, thoroughly betraying her desires. “Lie back then, sweet flower. Spread your legs wide,” he half-growls, every hair on his body standing rigid with lust as she scrambles to obey him.
“Oh gods,” Zelda moans, unable to keep her voice from shaking as she feels the mattress dip under the chieftain’s weight. Ganondorf is between her legs– he’s going to bed her; no, the king of the Gerudo is going to fuck her until she remembers no other words but his name. She shudders, breathing heavily as Ganondorf’s large hands stay planted on her hips to keep her legs spread wide. The position is nothing short of obscene, and so utterly vulnerable that she almost crumbles.
“It may hurt at first, but I promise it will turn to pleasure,” Ganondorf assures her. Zelda moans again as she feels his swollen cockhead rubbing lewdly against her folds, coating it in her slick. Hazy green eyes lock with dark yellow ones. “Zelda, my little golden goddess, I ask you one last time,” he whispers, voice thick with lust. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes!” This time, there’s no hesitation– it’s a command, and every vein in his body thrills to hear it. “Fuck me, Ganondorf,” Zelda orders him, legs shaking with want, “fuck me like the king you are.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. With a groan so deep it sounds like the earth given a voice, Ganondorf pushes inside her, her slick velvet walls sucking him inside with shameless abandon. Zelda cries out at the first breach, her young body shuddering slightly as her tight cunt instinctively stretches to accommodate the mammoth presence that is the king of the Gerudo. “Oh,” she moans, as his first thrust hits her so deep she almost sees stars, “oh, sweet goddesses– Hylia–“
Zelda’s cheeks bloom with rosy color, green eyes squeezed shut as she pants and rocks beneath him. Her body adjusts to his size after several hard thrusts, and Ganondorf groans in pleasure at the delicious feeling of his cock engulfed in the pulsing heat of her sweet royal cunt. Her walls flutter and clench, her hips instinctively working to try to meet his thrusts. Her moans and whines are like prayers coming from her divine lips; he longs to devour each word and burn them into her skin in worship.
“My Zelda,” Ganondorf growls, as the bestial side of him begins to take control– and how can it not, with a young goddess writhing beneath him, her body glowing with pleasure that only he can grant her? “Tell me how it feels,” he urges, large hands clenching around her thighs, bringing her shaking legs up higher as her hips buck against him. “Tell me how it feels to be fucked by a king, sweet Zelda.”
“F-Full,” she cries. All words seem to have escaped her, as her body welcomes his as easily as breathing, as if they were meant to find each other. “D-Divine, so full– my king,” her panting breaths are nearly frantic, her breasts heaving against his sweat-slicked chest as he bears down on her, each thrust of his cock making stars explode behind her eyelids.
“My beautiful goddess,” Ganondorf snarls, burying his teeth into her throat and biting down, hard enough to draw blood. Zelda writhes and cries out, clenching around his shaft so tightly it nearly drives him mad. How he wants to steal her away, out from under the oppressive hold of the arrogant Zonai king and his senseless wife. Zelda is a dove longing to soar through the heavens, a deer aching to run surefooted in the grass; she doesn’t belong in Rauru’s gilded cage of a palace, wings clipped and eyes haunted with sadness.
Fantasies rise in his head faster than thoughts; dark fantasies that make Ganondorf’s vision turn red with lust. “Sweet golden flower, I want to burn you alive and leave nothing left,” he groans into her skin, teeth pressed against the flutter of her pulse. “I want to bring you to the desert, to rule by my side– you are mine,” and he says it with such certainty, such finality, that Zelda can scarcely disbelieve him, her lust-addled mind scattered beyond all thought.
“Ganondorf,” she pleads, her nails scratching his flesh. She’s so close; he can feel it, her walls are clenching desperately around his shaft like steel. “P-Please, by Hylia, I need you–“
“Break for me, my Zelda; cum for me,” Ganondorf breathes into her mouth, and break she does, her wail of pleasure muffled in a kiss of tongues and teeth. She spasms wildly around his cock, her shapely back arching and her fingers clawing for purchase in his hair. He fucks her deep and slow through the staggering orgasm, letting her ride the wave.
“Ganondorf,” Zelda moans, nearly babbling when she feels him stop. She doesn’t understand what’s happening, until the king uses his strong arms to pull her shaking body back against him, the curve of her spine pressed into his mighty chest. Her golden head falls back against him, moans spilling from her lips as he wraps his arms around her waist and plunges back into her molten depths.
Every minute spent inside his Zelda feels like a blissful eternity. Ganondorf knows then, as her body writhes and bucks into him, that he needs her; he will never again be satisfied by any other bedmate, so long as this little goddess graces the earth. Their mingled grunts and moans form a chorus of pleasure, the perfect blend of the divine and the carnal. Ganondorf’s mind is racing as he fucks his Zelda with the ardor of a mighty stallion breaking in a spirited mare. He wants to take her against the wall, bent over his desk, sprawled in the grass under a sun-kissed sky. He wants to break her and to worship her until the world goes up in flames around their entwined bodies.
Zelda is so overwhelmed with pleasure that tears roll down her cheeks; her throat is raw from cries. It’s as if her entire world has shrunk down to the size of her bed and the gloriously dark, all-consuming presence of the Gerudo king. Her body yields to him like a fine-tuned instrument, the outline of his mammoth cock lewdly visible on her flat stomach. Ganondorf catches one of her flailing hands and presses it against the firm swell, letting her feel how far he’s breached her; how much of her beautiful body he’s claimed as his own.
“S-So, so deep,” Zelda moans, shaking against him as the rhythm of his thrusts steals the breath from her lungs. “So very deep– oh gods, I-I’m going to–“
“Cum for your king, goddess mine~” And she does, as if only waiting for his command, crying out as her toes curl in bliss and her slick gushes around his cock and over their thighs. Sobs of delight wrack her body, as Ganondorf finally seeks his own release in her molten warmth, a feral growl tearing from his lips as he spills his seed inside her.
Zelda falls limp against him, utterly worn out and overwhelmed with sensations. Her fertile little cunt is still gripping his shaft; when he pulls out with an obscene squelching sound, a flood of his cum and her own juices leak onto the ruined sheets. For awhile, Ganondorf holds his golden princess close against his chest as they both rest, basking in the afterglow of their joining. Zelda is so small, yet he can feel the power humming just below her skin; her golden light he both covets and craves.
Finally, she stirs against him, sleepy and sad. “I s-should go, back to my own rooms before King Rauru notices I’m not there,” she mumbles, sounding uncertain. It’s clear she doesn’t want to go back.
“Rauru be damned, Zelda.” Her eyes fly open wide at the blatant disrespect of the Zonai king, and their host, but she says nothing to rebuke him. Ganondorf holds her close against his chest, so close she can feel his heartbeat below his breast. “If you wish to stay the night here with me, you may, little flower.”
Cheeks flushed red, Zelda hesitates for only a moment before nodding. “Yes,” she murmurs, “please.”
Come morning, they’ll need to wash and clean the sheets, lest the fool Rauru learn of their tryst and use it as leverage against Ganondorf in the petty war he wishes to wage between their peoples. But for tonight, they can sleep in the same bed with their bodies and souls knit together. Zelda will not run from him, Ganondorf knows, nor he from her.
So the king of the desert engulfs the petite body of the goddess in his arms, her back pressed against his and their legs still tangled, their soft breaths coming together in an even rhythm.