‘I have decided that I will take your virginity, Princess.’
‘What? But …’
One wetted fingertip slips between my rear cheeks until it finds the tight pucker it seeks.
‘There is more than one kind of virginity.’
‘Oh God. Not there. Please, not there.’
‘You should have thought of that when you welcomed peasant cock into your hungry cunt, Princess. I’m not going where some serf has been. I shall have to use an alternative. It won’t get me many heirs, I suppose, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come. To it.’
Cold lubricant drips onto the tiny aperture. My hot arse welcomes it, but I am still nervous and focused, as I always am when Lloyd takes me this way. Somehow, it seems like a much bigger and bolder step than mere cock-in-cunt sex. There’s a momentous quality to it.
But he knows I can take it, and he knows exactly how rough he can be, and that’s exactly how rough he is, shoving his cock firmly into my bottom until he is wedged tight and I have squealed and squirmed through the difficult moment of full penetration.
‘There we are, Princess,’ he whispers. ‘Your arse is stuffed with a royal cock. How does it compare with what that peasant gave you?’
‘I feel owned, sir, and taken.’
‘That’s what you should feel. That’s what you are.’
He edges back and I cringe, then he thrusts himself to the hilt again.
‘Take it, my princess whore bride. Take my cock in your sore whipped arse and be grateful I wasn’t harder on you.’
So I take it, gratefully and meekly, offering my most private and intimate place to the man who has mastered me.
He uses it firmly while I finger my clit, loving the way my stomach bumps against the table with each forceful sheathing, glorying in the slap-slap of his pelvis against my burning bum cheeks.
A good buggering always results in the kind of orgasm that makes me wonder if I’m actually dying and this one is no different. I am torn into pieces, floating about in space, while he finishes with a grunt and a spurt of warmth deep inside me.
I reach blindly for his hand. He clasps mine and holds it tight while we recover, sighing and trembling over the table.
‘That learned ya, didn’t it?’ he says eventually, with a self-conscious chuckle.
‘It was incredible … just gets more incredible … every time.’ My wonderment is evident.
‘It does, doesn’t it? Makes you think.’
‘No, that’s what it doesn’t do. It makes me feel.’
‘You still want to go ahead with this challenge? Because we could just scrub it and you could move in tomorrow.’
For a split second I consider saying yes, OK, let’s do that. Why can’t I say yes? I thought saying no was the thing I couldn’t do.
Chapter Two
He makes me wait two weeks for the first envelope.
Two weeks of cajolery and attempted entrapment into spilling the sex beans – but Lloyd is not to be drawn. Even when I stopped wanking him, right on the teetering tip of orgasm, and told him I wanted to milk him for information before I milked him for anything else. Even when he entered the office to find me posing on top of the desk in corset, suspenders and stockings, promising great things in exchange for a clue. Even when I locked myself into a chastity device and told him that the key would only appear on receipt of certain intelligence.
None of it worked.
He finished himself off. He swept me off the desk and sent me away to dress, with a smack to my arse. He … well, he didn’t have to do anything about the last one. I got bored of it after about ten minutes.
So now, two weeks after the deal was made, I am none the wiser about my first challenge.
I am completing some induction training for a group of new kitchen staff when my PA, Kathleen, trots up to me and tells me that ‘Mr Ellison says there’s an important note for you in your pigeonhole’.