Title:  I Want It All

Author:  Cheezey

Theme:  Doomite Fic

Characters/Pairings:  Lotor/Romelle

Album and Song: Depeche Mode – Playing the Angel; “I Want It All”

Rating/Genre:  M / Drama

Summary:  A new alliance between Doom and Pollux has been forged, but the one between Prince Lotor and Princess Romelle is more than political.

Author’s Notes:  Set in the early part of “My Brother is a Robeast” episode, this story explores what might have transpired between Lotor and Romelle before the relationship between Doom and Pollux turned sour.  Mature rating for adult content.

 

 

Reclining comfortably in the royal suite of his spaceship, Prince Lotor sipped at his golden wine goblet lost in thought.  The chamber was small compared to the quarters he was used to at home in Castle Doom and in foreign palaces he visited, but it was still quite posh with the finest luxuries built into it for the utmost comfort of a guest of his station during interstellar travel.  His ship was en route to Pollux, where Doom would cement the newly forged alliance with King Cova and his family, release Prince Avok’s robeast to fight Voltron, and be rid of their mutual enemy once and for all.

 

Lotor bored easily on long flights with no battle action, and although a number of his beautiful harem girls had accompanied him on the trip, he had left orders with the ship’s crew that none were to be sent in to him unless he specifically requested their presence.  At the moment there was only one individual with whom he wanted to pass the time, and she was not one of his toys, at least not yet.  The beautiful Princess Romelle, daughter of King Cova and younger sister of Prince Avok, appealed far more to him than any of his harem girls.  Although some of them were also princesses like Romelle, they were from lesser worlds that he or his father had conquered, and had been bargained to him or taken as spoils to be used for his exclusive pleasure.  On some worlds they were considered his wives, although in Doom’s and in the Drule Empire’s laws they were legal consorts at best, with no claim to his title but able to bear him legitimate heirs if he chose to recognize any children they might have by him.

 

Pleasure was the only interest Lotor’s harem ladies held for him, however, and none of them had ever been able to captivate him like the beautiful Princess Allura of Arus had.  She was the woman that Lotor desired to possess most, and the only one that he had ever wanted for his true bride.  No other had even come close to igniting that level of desire in him.  None possessed her innocent beauty, with silken tresses of blonde hair flowing against pale and soft untouched skin that Lotor imagined felt even finer pressed against his own.  None had Allura’s beautiful blue eyes, devoid of the coy and fickle wiles seen in so many others but instead filled with compassion, gentleness, grace, and one day he believed, a true and enduring love reserved for him and him alone.

 

None that was, until now, when he had the fortune to meet the beautiful Princess Romelle of Pollux.  Her resemblance to Allura was strong, but unlike the elusive princess of Arus, Romelle had her same fine and noble qualities without the irksome drawback of being a stubborn woman from a world opposing his.  Lotor did not have to wait to see that gleam of potential love light up in Romelle’s eyes the way he still did with Allura’s, for Pollux’s princess not only did not flinch away from him in fear or revulsion, but smiled at him in a most admiring and flattering way.  When he had held her hand in the arena earlier, the subtle flush that had colored her cheeks and the look of favor in her eyes inspired a rush of desire comprised of both lust and affection in Lotor that no woman save Princess Allura had ever been able to arouse.

 

As a result, Doom’s prince had been unable to think of anything but the beautiful Romelle for more than a brief while.  Not even the promise of Voltron’s upcoming defeat could stave off the pleasant daydreams of himself with the Polluxian princess for very long.  He imagined himself ravishing a willing Romelle in her own silken bed sheets in Castle Pollux, moonlight splashing through the open window, while she cried out her pleasure and love for him so loudly that it echoed throughout the castle and down to the courtyard below.  The victorious robeast Avok would be standing above the smoking remains of Voltron and the bloodied bodies of its pilots at his feet.  Only Allura would be left alive, to hear Romelle enjoy all that she could have had but refused, and she would then be taken back to Doom to be kept forever as his prisoner, a trophy, serving him and his new queen.

 

It was an arousing fantasy indeed, and as another swallow of wine passed his lips, Lotor felt the throb of physical desire inspired by it.  He did not want to wait until Voltron was defeated to indulge himself with Romelle.  Why should he?  He could just as easily have her again when they celebrated victory, and he was certain she would not refuse him.  He was the prince of Doom, and she was as clearly taken with him as he was with her.  She was also on the ship, and Pollux was still hours away.

 

He signaled his commander.  “Have Princess Romelle sent here at once.  Alone.”

 

“Yes Sire,” Mogor’s voice replied over the intercom, and within a few minutes the doors to Lotor’s quarters opened and two robotic guards escorted the Polluxian princess inside.

 

“Romelle,” Lotor greeted her fondly, and rose to his feet.  He took her hand and led her inside while waving the robots away.  They bowed before retreating, and the doors slid shut leaving the prince and princess to their privacy.  “I’m glad you came.  I’m delighted to have a chance to spend some time with you.”  He then kissed her hand and released it, eliciting a demure blush from her.

 

“Thank you, Prince Lotor.”

 

“Lotor,” he corrected her with a charming smile.  “This alliance will bring us very close, so there’s no need for that kind of formality.”

 

She smiled back at him.  “Lotor,” she repeated.  “I’m glad our planets could unite this way.  I’m sure Avok will do us all proud when he defeats Voltron.”

 

“You admire your brother a great deal, I can tell,” Lotor said, and gestured for her to sit with him on a plush loveseat.  “As well you should; he’s a fine warrior.  It takes some skill, and luck, to best me.  It looks like he has both.”

 

“You fought well against him,” Romelle admitted with a look that was decidedly flattering.  “I love my brother, but... well,” her smile broadened, “it was hard to not admire you too.  If I hadn’t been worried that he’d be hurt if you’d gotten the better of him, I’d have wanted to cheer for you both.”

 

“Fortunately, he and I can both take care of ourselves,” Lotor replied with a hint of smugness before reaching to caress the side of her cheek.  “I imagine you can too.  You’re beautiful, but also strong and determined.  I can see it in you.”  He leaned closer.  “I like that.  I admire a woman, a princess, that knows what she wants.”

 

Romelle’s eyes met his.  “I want this to work.  I want my world to be powerful, I want my family’s feud with Arus settled once and for all, and I want Avok to win and bring glory to Pollux.”

 

“Your father will be the king of a powerful world—made even more powerful by his alliance with me and my father.”

 

She smiled at that notion.  “We’ll rule the universe together.”

 

“Our fathers will, at any rate.”  Lotor drew her closer, and added in a seductive whisper, “And me, when I succeed mine.”  He stroked her soft blond hair.  “A shame that it will be Avok and whoever he takes as his queen to succeed yours.  You and I might... do well together.”

 

Romelle looked down briefly, enjoying the intimacy of sitting so close with Doom’s prince, and then looked back up at him as if she had something on her mind, a secret that she was not sure she should share.  She hesitated only a moment however, before she chose to speak.  “Avok said... well it was suggested that I might be betrothed to you.  Father hasn’t said anything, but yesterday Avok confided in me and Bandor...”  Her voice trailed off and she looked away quickly, as if she regretted saying too much.  “I’m sorry.  It’s not appropriate for me to—”

 

“It’s all right,” Lotor said, offering her a reassuring look.  “I’m glad you’re comfortable enough with me to be honest.  Actually, I’d had the same thought.  My father hasn’t said anything specific, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t talked to your father about it, and it’s no secret that he would like me to take a suitable bride sooner rather than later.  It would make sense, politically, for our alliance to be sealed through a marriage.  Betrayals are less likely when there’s a blood tie at stake on either side.”

 

“Betrayals,” she repeated, as if taken aback at the notion.

 

Lotor’s expression took on a humored, although not snidely so, look at her naiveté.  “A woman like you would honor alliances, of course, and we’ve got no reason to think your world wouldn’t... just as much as yours wouldn’t suspect mine anyway.  But history’s tales of sordid betrayals from friends do leave any smart monarch wary.”  His smile faded and a more serious look crossed his blue features.  “And in the spirit of honesty, my dear Romelle,” he said in a seductive whisper as he cupped her chin, “I’d be all for such a union, politically and otherwise.  Your beauty, intelligence, and grace is everything a king—and I will be king—could want in a queen.”

 

Upon hearing his words, Romelle’s eyes lit up with delight, and her heart pounded with excitement as he then sealed them with a bold and sensual kiss.  She fell naturally into Lotor’s embrace and yielded to him quite happily, encircling her arms around him as he did her.  His strong body felt solid and powerful in her arms, and as he held her she felt both desired and safe in his.

 

As their lips broke apart and his yellow eyes looked intently into her blue ones, she felt an additional flutter of attraction when he added, “You deserve to be a queen, not second in line to a throne your brother will eventually take.”

 

“Third in line, actually,” Romelle corrected softly, as a fantasy of her being queen alongside Lotor as king danced through her mind.  “If my father was gone and something happened to Avok, Bandor would take the throne before me.”

 

Lotor frowned.  “But he’s a child.”

 

“He’s male,” she replied.  “Pollux’s laws put a woman into the man’s family upon marriage.  The only way I’ll ever be Queen of Pollux is if both of my brothers die before having a male heir, which of course I pray never happens.  I love them both dearly.”

 

“Then Pollux’s loss of such a fine queen will be Doom’s gain.”  He kissed her lips again.

 

Romelle enjoyed the lingering sensation of Lotor’s lips upon hers and smiled up at him.  “You’re very charming.  Any princess would be lucky to be courted by you.”

 

“I’m not courting just any princess,” Lotor replied smoothly, and took her hands in his.  “I’ll speak to my father about this as soon as I’m back on Doom.  We’ll celebrate our worlds’ union and victory over Voltron with our wedding.”  A sneer tugged at his lips.  “We’ll use the black lion’s severed head as our altar and stand on Voltron’s crest as a symbol of everything crushed beneath our feet.”  He smoothed his hand along the contour of her hip, hinting at his passionate intent without being crudely presumptuous.

 

She was not offended by the overture; rather she was flattered by it, and her eyes fell half-closed and she exhaled contentedly at the sensual touch.  “That sounds very nice.”  She played her fingertips upon his strong shoulders in a way that encouraged him further.

 

“And it will be,” Lotor assured, accepting said encouragement.  His touch grew bolder and his hand dipped lower, tracing the outline of her buttocks as their lips met once again.  That time the prince and princess did not separate quickly, and their kiss was markedly more passionate than those preceding.  Romelle settled into the embrace and blissfully acquiesced to his caresses that touched her in ways that both made her heart flutter and body tingle with unrealized desire.

 

“You’re a woman that knows what she wants,” he murmured as their kiss ended and his hand settled upon the curve of her breast.  “I find that incredibly exciting.  I’d like to know all there is to know about you, Princess Romelle.  While it’s just you and me here, alone, without our royal family pressures, without Voltron, without distraction.”  He gave the soft treasure in his hand an admiring fondle and then moved to the catch of her dress.  “Let’s discover what our future holds.”

 

The same becoming flush that had touched Romelle’s cheeks in the arena returned and lit up her features tenfold.  “I’d like that, too, Lotor.”  She allowed him to unfasten her clothing and smiled at him, caressing his muscular back through his clothes as her dress fell loose about her shoulders.  “You’re so handsome and charming.”

 

“A fitting match for one as beautiful as you,” was his smooth reply, his ego swelling with pride while his loins swelled more physically.  He pulled Romelle onto his lap so that her dress, now loose about her waist, could be pulled off the rest of the way and then reached to unfasten her lacy undergarments.  Romelle’s homeland on Pollux was warm and the clime surrounding Castle Doom not much different in temperature, so what she wore beneath her dress was small, light, delicate, and easily removed.  With her then nude in his arms, he admired the sight of his latest beautiful prize with uninhibited lust.  He was able to restrain himself only long enough to bare his own chest and kick off his boots before he helped himself to touching the lovely body being offered to him.

 

The princess gasped lightly as his fingers smoothed over her skin, and when his fingers dipped between her thighs and rubbed her most intimately, she clenched at his strong shoulders. She let out an audible moan when his mouth closed around one of her nipples, eliciting sensations of erotic delight that were new to her.  Romelle was not experienced in the pleasures of the flesh, although she was not as innocent as one might have expected a princess like her to be either.  Though she had not had any lovers, she had been introduced to other young princess, danced and dined with them, and there had been a couple that she had found attractive enough to share kisses with in romantic moments alone with them.  In addition, there had been two young men, common boys that Avok had trained with and shared a friendship with, that Romelle had once had crushes on and with whom she had flirted.  One had returned the sentiment, and although their relationship had been brief, it had not ended before she and he had shared a few embraces passionate enough that Avok would have certainly taken exception had he known about them, even though both Romelle and her boyfriend had remained fully clothed.

 

That encounter with Lotor was the boldest venture toward pleasure Romelle had ever taken with a man, but there was no timidity or shyness holding her back from enjoying it.  Lotor’s touch was sensual and erotic and she craved more of it.  Romelle was not ashamed of giving herself to a man like Lotor outside of a marriage; he was of acceptable station and she was not concerned about talk of inappropriate behavior given that they were alone on his ship, and Lotor’s soldiers and servants showed nothing but the utmost respect to them both.

 

Therefore, when Lotor lifted her up and pressed her back against the soft cushions of their seat so that he could take the rest of his clothes off, she only looked upon him with equal passion and anticipation as he did her while he disrobed.  She had, of course, seen naked men before, in artwork and images—some illicit, shared with her in fun from her trusted maids and lady friends—and she had seen dramatic plays and dances performed by artists in the nude, but it was certainly the first time Romelle had seen a fine prince and a warrior like Lotor bared before her in such circumstances.

 

Once Doom’s prince was as naked as she, he returned to her awaiting embrace and thrilled as she stroked and explored his body as fully as he had hers.  Lotor kissed the nape of Romelle’s neck hungrily as her fingers curled around his hard length, touching it in a way he could tell that she was imagining how it would feel moving inside her.

 

“You feel even more incredible than you look, Romelle,” he whispered into her ear, his breath stirring the surrounding strands of golden hair while his fingertips rubbed the spot that made her breath quicken and her moan deepen just a little more intensely.

 

Romelle’s right hand clenched urgently at the prince’s flank, conveying an unspoken demand that he take her there and then and finish what had been started.  Although Lotor was not generally the type to accept orders, the flattery of being desired so strongly by a woman he found so desirable overrode any stubborn grumbles he might have had in her taking the lead in their act for a few moments.  To make up for it, he shifted his position so that her legs were splayed around him, and he thrust himself into her, pinning her down and making her mewl with pleasure.

 

Though Romelle had been a virgin, when he entered her it was not difficult or painful, for she was quite aroused and despite his size, the fluidity of his motion left her with little more than a gasp and a fleeting twinge.  She circled her arms about his back and he pressed himself in deeply and began to thrust.  She in turn closed her eyes as the fantasy she had long had about her first time being made love to by a handsome prince came to life.

 

Lotor was energetic and thorough, and Romelle was confident enough in herself and comfortable enough with the prince ravishing her that she followed his lead and her body’s cues to a memorable and breath-taking climax.  She squealed affirmations of his virility in the form of his name and brief, gasping exclamations, a few loud enough that the robotic soldiers posted outside the quarters were able to hear and exchanged knowing looks about.

 

Equally shameless, the prince took his pleasure with Romelle and basked in her pleasured cries with smug satisfaction.  Allura, this could have been you, he thought snidely as Romelle’s fingernails dug into his back and she clenched him from the inside, writhing in the throes of passion.  Perhaps when we’ve defeated your precious Voltron and your worthless pilot friends are dead, when you’re my slave, you’ll see what a fool you’ve been.

 

At that thought his grin widened, and he thrust harder and faster, making Romelle’s entire body shake with his frenzied passions.  Her only response was to moan louder and arch her back more sharply, urging him on, craving more of what he had to give.  You’ll serve both me and my new queen, listen to us enjoy the pleasure you could’ve had night after night.  He clutched at the cushions beneath them, his fingers digging into the fabric hard enough that had it been Romelle’s flesh he grasped instead, it would have bruised.

 

Maybe I’ll make you watch.

 

He pounded into her more feverishly, as he imagined Allura, clad in slave garb, forced to stand at their bedside at their beck and call while he had his way with Romelle, who squealed again as a second orgasm welled within her, stimulated by the deeper penetration and rougher thrusting.

 

Maybe I’ll make you join us.

 

His vision morphed into that of a humbled Allura, stripped and pleasuring both him and Romelle simultaneously, which made his lust burn that much hotter and edged him that much closer to his own peak.

 

I’ll have her, and I’ll have you.

 

On that thought Lotor pounded into Romelle with all he had, his breath fast and ragged and his body wound to its limit with unspent tension.  And then, he closed his eyes as his release came, spilling his seed deep inside the willing princess beneath him, I’ll have it all.

 

 

* * *

 

“I Want It All”

Lyrics by David Gahan

 

I see a river
It's oceans that I want
You have to give me everything
Everything's not enough

It's my desire
To give myself to you
Sometimes

Sometimes I try
Sometimes I lie, with you
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I die, it's true
Somewhere I find
Something that's kind

And I've crossed the line again
A line I drew in sand
Still you give me everything
And everything's not enough

I'm ready but not willing
To give myself to you
Sometimes

Sometimes I try
Sometimes I lie, with you
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I die, it's true
Somewhere I find
Something that's kind

Come on over
Lay down beside me
And I'll try
Come on over
Lay down beside me
And I'll try
And I'll try

I want it all