Possessing the Princess

4

ROYA

“OH REALLY?” ARIS’S DEEP timbre raised shivers on my skin. “How about the way your father treats you? You can’t go out. You can’t dress the way you want. You don’t even have your own bank account.”

As if being manacled to Aris’s bed while he swatted my buttocks with cruel blows wasn’t bad enough, it was mortifying that he could figure out all the pathetic nuances of my life. More disturbing was the fact that he’d made me admit I had little to no experience with men; that I was, at the age of twenty-four, still a virgin.

Aris knew more than just how to make my body burn and yearn for him despite my best efforts.

So here I was now, with my bottom raised, unceremoniously bound to his bed and nearly nude.

He had shackles built into the bed!

I might’ve heard about such wicked depravity, but never would I have imagined I’d be put in this position, or that the intense, lingering caresses in between the sharp spanks would have me writhing in lust.

He seemed alternately amused and aroused by my debauched predicament. His voice grew husky and, when I glanced over my shoulder, his azure eyes burned, hooded and hot.

The conceited, controlling man had shown no compunction when he’d slowly disrobed right before my very eyes. With his height, his broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, his muscular physique, he had to be the perfect specimen of a man.

I’d tried to keep my gaze fastened on his shoulders after he dropped his trousers, but then he’d begun touching himself. I’d watched, fascinated, as his hand wandered lower and lower down his well-muscled abdomen and into the dark glossy hair surrounding his bold erection.

Then all my imaginings simply faded away. Those late-night fantasies that had my body weeping such that dew saturated my sex were nothing compared to the virile male in front of me. The thick long rod jutted up from his groin, and that wasn’t a penis. That was a cock.

I had no idea if all men were so big, but I doubted it.

Clear fluid had trickled from the slit in the wide, purplish head when he grasped himself.

Then he’d flipped me over and started with his torture.

My ass stung and yet my pulse seemed to throb from between my legs, my sex swelling as liquid beaded out from between my lips.

How had he managed it?

I’d called out to Yasmin for rescue when my body’s betrayal grew too great to bear. And something obscene had flashed in his eyes then. Those deep blue irises . . . I’d always thought blue was a pure color. How wrong I’d been.

He had spanked me. Made my bottom burn with blow after blow. He’d smacked my center core, eliciting moans and a radiating need that broke through every barrier between prim and proper to pleasure of the most wanton kind. He’d pushed his cock between my cheeks, riding the seam of my flesh, and I’d felt the hot drizzle of his liquid roll down my spine, a trail of fire all on its own.

“Well?” he asked in that resonant rumbling tone, almost straddling me from behind and running his palms all over my ripened buttocks.

“Well what?” I snapped, although the breathy quality of my voice gave away my arousal.

I couldn’t stop myself from pushing back into those large rough palms roaming all over my rear end and the tingling insides of my upper thighs.

“Are you going to tell me I’m wrong about how limited and restricted your lonely life is?” His silken tone had as much of a hypnotic effect as his massaging touches.

I dropped my head in defeat, my face shielded by my hair. “You’re not wrong and you know it, Aris.”

He hit me with another strike, one that landed against my sex. I hissed shakily, the smack singeing through my . . . my pussy, a searing sensation that bloomed outward.

Suddenly, he released the tautness of the chains.

He rolled me over, carefully skimming tendrils of hair from my face. “There. Punishment over.”

Coming closer until his handsome face filled my vision, he melded his mouth to mine. His tongue entered and explored, his lips guiding mine in a long, luscious kiss. While he continued to make me mindless, he retightened the chains, restraining me anew.

When he withdrew, I was panting, pulsating. My nipples pointed, high and tight. The whole front panel between my legs was slick and see through.

His cheeks were ruddy, lips parted, the stubble on his face delicious, and he was even more rakishly appealing now.

Except, apparently, he had a more sordid form of torture in mind now.

He rose to his haunches, knees on either side of my hips.

My legs splayed out, and I felt my own humiliatingly heated wetness right there.

He knew I was luridly excited by all he’d done so far.

He too was exquisitely aroused if the turgid state of his cock was anything to go by.

His chest gleamed with a sheen of sweat, and he teased his long fingers up the throbbing girth of his shaft. “Have you ever tasted cock, Roya?”

I shook my head, my eyelids growing heavier.

At my admission, his lips formed a wickedly sensuous grin. Leaning closer, he almost grazed my parted lips with that magnificent cockhead. The scent of his animal-like musk drifted up to my nose, and I inhaled with a tremulous moan.

“You won’t taste mine either,” he growled out.