Masked Prince (Fated Royals 2)

He was close but not yet touching me. The heat of his abdomen warmed the backs of my thighs, but he didn’t let his skin touch mine.

One minute passed. Two. Three.

The soft sound of him stroking his cock mixed with the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.

I wanted to ask what came next, but I heard his warning earlier in my ears. Speak when spoken to. I’d already risked his fury when I sassed him earlier. I had to be careful. I knew that. And so I waited in the strange pleasure of not knowing what came next, making breathing harder and harder.

“Breathe, baby,” he said, so in tune with me it was hard to understand. “Fucking breathe.”

I inhaled, long and slow, letting myself melt into the featherbed. I let my back relax and arch so that my stomach touched my thighs, so that my breasts compressed beneath me. Still though, I was nervous, and in spite of myself I curled my toes with anticipation.

“Fuck. I love to see you squirm.”

With the broad head of his enormous cock, he parted the lips of my pussy, positioning himself with his head right at my opening.

“It’s going to hurt, this first time. But I need you to embrace that pain.” Now he gripped my hips and I felt myself melt even further; his touch was such a relief. I had needed it so desperately for so long. Now I had it, I never wanted him to let me go.

Slowly, he inched himself inside me and I sucked a breath through my teeth. The pain, oh my goodness, the pain.

My muscles seized up, through my abdomen and hips, all the way to my calves. I released my breath on a groan and squeezed my rope restraints. His massive fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips, grounding me through the disorienting, burning pain.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Iris. That…” He gasped, inching deeper. “That’s fucking heaven. You are so fucking tight.”

He stayed there, just like that, letting me get used to him. And oh, how I got used to him. I embraced the pain, just like he said, forcing my breathing to slow. He kneaded my ass cheeks with his palms, digging the pads of his thumbs deep into my muscles. “There you go. Relax.”

With each passing second, I felt my body do what it was made to do: to hold him, to keep him. He growled as he felt the resistance of my virginity, blocking his complete entrance.

“Time for me to fucking take that cherry,” he said, and with one powerful thrust he drove all the way into me, making us one in a pinching wave of pleasure-pain-relief. I gasped again, feeling my virgin blood spill from me in a warm wave.

“Welcome home,” I whispered into the sheets.

“Welcome home yourself,” he said with an angry thrust that sent my eyes rolling back into my head. In both fists, I balled up the silky sheets and shifted my weight back into my hips, meeting his thrusts with a slide of my body.

His rhythm was intense, always keeping me just on the edge of what I thought I could take. But never, not once, did I ask him to slow down. What he gave me, I embraced. The pain, the pleasure, the mind-bending waves of…Permission, oh god, I need to ask for…

“Come on this cock,” he ordered, pounding me again and again. “Fucking come,” he thrusted, “on,” another thrust, “this cock.” He roared as he powered into me once again.

Even in my daze, a command was better than permission “Randal, oh sweet Jesus, Randal…” I moaned into the mattress as my inside pulsed and fluttered.

My toes curled so hard that my feet cramped. And then it happened. I came for him from the inside out. I was lost in fast-flowing rapids. I was upside down in another world. I screamed his name into the mattress, and as I screamed it, he egged me on.

“Take it, fucking take it, baby,” he bellowed as he plunged into me again and again. “If you keep squeezing me like that, Iris, you’re going to make me come.”

It was time for me to take some power back from him. High time. So I squeezed. I squeezed him with all the power I had—every ounce of desire, every bit of adoration, every bit of fear, all my strength went from my pussy into his cock. I knew well enough I couldn’t be giving him orders. But with his body I told him.

Come for me.

Come in me.

I had never heard a human being make a sound like he did right then. It was a moose in the rut, it was a dog on a bitch’s scent. I turned my head over my shoulder to watch him release into me.

Blurry with pleasure though the world was, I saw him clearly. He had his head arched back, making the muscles of his chest and abdomen ripple. His shoulders were massive; every inch of him was absolutely perfect. His scars disappeared and I saw the man and beast as they merged into one.