by Lana Lachlan
Whoa, Ms. Snooty had some mouth on her although from her rapid blink, she’d either shocked herself or thought she’d gone too far. The rich brat needed to learn good behavior.
“Someone should wash your mouth out, little girl.”
“How dare you call me a girl, you sexist pig.”
She sounded like an old movie. And getting snootier by the second. “Whatever,” he sighed. “Now I want you out of here pronto.”
Although she had looked good lying on his bed and that tail of hers was a sight for sore eyes.
“Not before I get my apology.”
Getting free of the princess could take a while. “If you don’t get dressed, ma’am, I’ll have to do it for you so I suggest you cooperate.”
She tossed her head as though working up courage for her next move. For some reason, she wanted to pick a fight, wanted him to react. He didn’t know why but there was no mistaking the dare in her eyes.
He heard Axel growl. Funny how dogs always know. “Down boy.”
That set the girl off. As soon as her little five and a half foot frame came at him, fingers out like claws, he had no choice but to act. Snaring her wrists, he wrapped them in one hand while she struggled and tried to knee him in the groin. He deflected the painful prospect with his thigh, jamming his leg between hers, which must have hurt her as she shrieked, kicking like fury while trying to liberate herself from his grip. Spinning her around, he held her flush to his chest. She felt like a small bird trying to flutter itself free.
“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. You’re not thinking straight.”
She went slack in his hold but as soon as he released her, she flipped around to drum her little fists on his pecs as if trying to make a hole in his chest. He could hardly feel it but she and her roofie after-effects were starting to get on his nerves. Holding her by the upper arms, he plonked her on the bed, held her by the chin, taking care with the delicate bone structure. His heavy hands weren’t built for princesses.
“Drug or not, you’re acting like a snotty kid with bad manners. But I brought you here and until your sorry ass is out the door, you’ll behave. I’ll fix you coffee, sort the cab and then you’re gone. Are we clear?”
She wrenched from his grip. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you creep.”
He rarely lost his shit but this woman had his buttons lined up in a row and intended to push every one of them. Taking a breath to stay calm, he held his voice steady. “If you say so. Now sit quietly while I get the coffee.”
He was halfway across the room when he heard something break. Turning, he saw his one and only table lamp on the floor—a heavy brass thing with a glass shade that had come with his inheritance. He liked it, dammit.
She picked up his alarm clock.
“Put it down,” he warned, striding back across the room when she waved it in the air. “I won’t tell you twice.”
It hit the floor, shattered.
“Oops.”
She had her bottom lip caught between her perfect white teeth, her knees over the edge of the bed and spread to give him an eyeful. As angry as he was and as much as he’d like to toss her out, he couldn’t stop his cock hardening at the beauty’s assets and if truth be told, her gutsiness. Few men would risk his anger.
She tilted her head to one side, widened her legs. “Now what, Mr. Gage?”
The question tightened his balls before he found an answer. “I’m going to make you a promise, girl.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I thought you were going to make me coffee.”
From the start the wench had been asking for it, pushing him to snap and it finally dawned on him why. “I want an apology, princess, or I’ll tan your backside.”
A spark of curiosity lit her eyes, a marked change from her anger. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He recognized the signs. Five minutes ago, he wouldn’t have believed it possible. “Apologize or you’ll find out.”
“Then I guess I’ll find out.”
Just like that, he knew for sure. Lifting her, he dropped himself down on the edge of the bed to flip her wrestler-style over his knee. “Maybe this will sort you out, princess.”
He smacked her square in the middle of her ass, the sound echoing around the loft along with her yelp, making Axel bark. He smacked again, pausing to savor the satisfying sight of her ass blooming with a pink palm print. She howled, probably more at the indignity than the pain, seesawing her legs so hard, she managed to partially free herself from his lap. Hauling her back into position, he pinned her legs under his left thigh so her feet were on the floor but useless as leverage.
Another smack and she flailed her hands in the air. “Let me go, you freak.”
“Is that all you can manage?”
“Go to hell.”
He probably would, but not right now as he had work to do.
Adjusting her so her ass was exactly where he needed it for his hand, he paddled her from the top of her curvaceous cheeks all the way down to the underside, making sure he got every inch nice and bright before pausing to squeeze a buttock which had her calling him some name that he couldn’t quite catch. If she’d had enough of his hand, she wasn’t showing it.
He settled in again, using his open palm to deliver his hardest punishment yet. Maybe too harsh on such tender flesh but damn, it felt good to see her butt turning scarlet and hearing her complaining shrieks. When she tried to scratch his bare feet, he gave her several full-handed whacks that pulled her hands up to guard her butt. Swatting them away, he set to again, interspersing each with a decent thwack to her upper thighs to even up the color palette. To her credit she fought far longer than he would have credited a little thing like her, but finally the kicking, squawking, cursing princess fell into submission. She quieted, the last of her protests dropping to low, sniveling moans from under her dark hair. A half-dozen light smacks for good measure and he released her thighs from under his legs. As she wriggled forward, sobbing pathetically, he caught a glimpse of her pussy lips, slick and swollen and ripe, confirming his suspicion that she’d been angling for this all along. The girl wanted him to get her all hot and bothered and primed for play. Maybe the drug had given her a taste for rough handling, maybe it was just her, but either way, she’d feel those marks for a week.
She muttered something, and he moved his attention to more pressing matters. “Now what, princess?”
He felt her wriggle against his cock giving him his answer. And why not see his crappy night out on a high. Her willowy body would slot very neatly under his and he didn’t doubt her sweet cunt would feel every bit as good as it looked.
“You wanna invite me in?”
“I hate you. You’re an animal.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ so this party is over, princess.”
He went to lift her off his lap when she whispered, “Please.”
He heard the shiver of need in her voice. “Please, as in you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes, damn you.”
He kind of admired her fight. “Glad to oblige, ma’am.”
Flopping her onto the bed, he stood to shed his jeans and briefs, while she leaned back against the pillows to watch him, sulky-eyed and with her lip back between her teeth. He freed his erection, massaging himself from base to tip, making sure he got plenty of pre-cum in all the right places to do the princess justice. As he climbed on the bed, she peeled down the thong to give him a nice view of pussy glistening in the early morning light. The spanking had the minx desperate for cock and fact was, he had one hell of a hard on.
He opened the bedside cabinet drawer, feeling around and finding nothing. Shit.
“I’m out of protection.”
“Please,” she whimpered. “I’m good.”
“We won’t have to get married or anything, will we?” he managed to joke through his agony.
“No, I’m covered.”
As if to prove it, she thrust her hips up. Hell, who was he to argue the point with heaven inches
away.
Kneeling between her legs, he skated his fingers along her slick lips, briefly teasing her clit before slipping a forefinger deep.
“You ready to tell me your name, girl?”
He always made the effort to know their names. Apparently this one wanted to remain anonymous because she turned her face away although there was no mystery when it came to her body. Her slippery channel had his finger gripped, prompting him to add another to see to her G-spot. She arched, core twitching to the deep caress. When he withdrew, ready to take her, his eyes fell on hers. The girl was so strung out with lust and so damned beautiful he almost came then and there.
Pushing up on one hand, he used his other to rub his dick from clit to opening before slipping the head inside. A big porn star cock made for wet pussy, his hires liked to tease. Right now, he believed them.
She raised her head to stare down at it wedged between her lips. “Oh, God.”
He grinned. “No, ma’am. Just me.”
He pushed further in. Holy hell, she was tight. Her tasty inner muscles and the sheer novelty of being inside a princess could end this jaunt prematurely. Most times, he had good control but he couldn’t guarantee he’d last long enough for her to come first. He liked the woman to get the first one out of the way before he got busy. He saw it as being considerate, his way of saying ‘thank you’ for taking on his ugly ass. For sure, his regulars always went home a little richer and a whole lot happier.
A few deep draws of his lungs and more or less back in command of his balls, he slid home. “Okay?”
Her jerking hips gave him his answer. Safely anchored in her heat, he lifted her hips, positioned her so her body was parallel to his and thrust. The feel of her tight core resisting on the push, relaxing on the retreat had him groaning. “Good work, little girl.”
More than good. She felt fucking amazing… like hot silk. Working his fingers under her flimsy bra, he inched it up to get a look at her full breasts. He enjoyed a good rack… and ass… and legs… the whole package. If that made him a sexist pig, then yeah, he was one of those.
Pushing up on his knees and keeping her fastened on his cock, he bent her back so her head was on the pillow, the rest of her high to take him straight. With each dig into her lush channel, her breasts swayed and when he enclosed a fat globe in his hand, thumbing the stiff tip, she moaned and pushed up. Dragging her higher, he took a mouthful, sucking and pulling while not missing a single rut of his cock.
She shuddered. “Oh… oh.”
Seconds later, she climaxed on a cry, her head thrown back, pussy rippling around his meat as the contractions set in. He maintained his thrusts until she came again, trembling and gasping and now looking into his eyes like this was all a big surprise to her. It hadn’t taken long to get her into the swing of things and in gratitude he rode her fast to get her off for a third. As they both hit the point of no return, he closed his eyes to heighten the sensation of his ejaculate gushing into compressed warmth.
Nowhere near ready to end his ride, he rolled them both on their sides, squeezing her ass to help things along while pumping her to another climax. Give him five minutes and he’d join her. He had a high sex drive and with this luscious sprite, he could manage a marathon. Fuck, they were only just getting started.
The sound of a small sniffle coming from his chest pulled him up short. “Am I hurting your pussy?”
“No.”
The sniffling stopped, started again. Pulling back he tried to read her expression but she pushed her face into his shoulder.
“Then what’s wrong, girl?”
“This shouldn’t have happened.”
Random sex remorse was common enough although he’d never personally experienced it. “We’re having fun here so things are good, right?”
Her wet cheek slipped around to his throat. “You don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She shook her head, her hair tickling his chin. “I can’t.” Leaning back, she looked into his eyes and he realized the irises had tiny flecks of black set in the bright emerald. Her cheeks were flushed from her arousal and the tip of her nose had turned red from her crying. She looked kind of sweet.
“If you tell me what’s wrong then maybe I can help,” he offered, stroking her back gently.
Her lashes dipped in a sign she’d shut him out. “It’s complicated.”
He kissed her, the only thing he could think of to comfort her. Her tear-stained lips barely parted to allow him a taste of the lush interior. Okay, time to wrap this up. Random, mindless sex he liked, preferred if given a choice. The emotional, heavy stuff with sniffling princesses? Not so much.
He slid out of her. “What about I make that coffee before you leave?”
Sitting up, she wiped her eyes. “I can’t stay.”
She dressed quickly with her back to him. Already her ass and thighs showed the deep tissue bruises from his hand and though she might hate having them on her little upper-class body, he knew she’d craved the discipline. Whoever the man was in her life, and there had to be one, he wasn’t delivering.
Rolling off the bed, he gestured to Axel to stay put while he pulled on his jeans. “Can you handle a ride on a Harley?”
She wrinkled her nose. “A cab will be fine.”
The supercilious tone said she wanted nothing more to do with him and frankly, he’d had enough of dealing with her problems. The sooner the princess left, taking her snootiness with her, the sooner he could get some sleep.
While he called for a ride from his cell, she stood by the window, staring at the view of the city. He couldn’t see her face, but he imagined she had a whole bunch of regrets playing around in her head.
Sliding back the loft door, he waited while she walked past him into the passage. She paused by the elevator, fidgeting with her dress. “I’m sorry for hitting you and smashing your things, Mr. Gage. I don’t know what came over me.”
He grinned to ease her embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it. The type of roofie you got can make people a little… shall we say, unfriendly.” He paused, decided against telling her it also caused horniness. “Anyway, next time you go clubbing, watch your drink. Who were you with anyway?”
The question narrowed her eyes. “A friend. Why?”
“No reason. Tell your friend not to leave you alone again. It’s a big bad world out there.”
“Mr. Gage,” she said coldly, her gaze now on his chest tattoos as if memorizing them. “I must ask you not to tell anyone about what happened here tonight. It would be...”
“Awkward?” he finished for her.
She opened her mouth to say something, then nodded.
“No problem. And there’s no mister. It’s just Gage.”
“Thank you.”
He’d like to thank her for the happy ending, but he held his tongue. The kid didn’t need the reminder.
Riding the elevator with her to the ground floor, he paid the driver. He didn’t hear the address she gave the cabbie, nor did she say goodbye when the car pulled into the early morning traffic. The mysterious, nameless ice princess had gone.
Chapter 2
She couldn’t believe she’d begged him. Actually begged that horrible man for sex and then broken down in tears at what she’d done. She’d been taken—owned—by a boorish, violent man and dear God, she’d wanted him like she’d never wanted anything in her whole life. Even the humiliation of being slung over his knee and spanked raw had excited her. And if that wasn’t degrading enough, she’d craved his rough hands on her most private place and his body on top of hers and his…
“I’m so glad you and Julian have set the date, Annaliesa. I thought it would never happen.”
Anna jumped in her seat. She’d been so deep in thought, she’d completely forgotten about her grandmother sitting across the table. The summons to lunch at one of the city’s most fashionable restaurants was for Grandmama Beatrice to discuss the wedding or, more accurately, for Beatrice to take over the plannin
g.
“Oh yes,” Anna answered, taking a gulp of her fruit juice to get her thoughts in order. “Julian decided we’d waited long enough. He wants the wedding in July because of the connection to his name. He decided on the fifteenth.”
Julian being Julian Frankland the third, eldest son and heir to the Frankland family fortune and the man she’d cheated on last night.
Beatrice beamed. “So clever of that young man although it only leaves us two months to make all the arrangements. I’ve been thinking about which caterer would be best.”
Anna nodded and smiled politely. All she ever needed to do was nod and smile and agree to whatever Grandmother Cabot said. This wedding wasn’t so much a marriage as a merger of dynasties. After fifty years of doing business together, the Cabots and the Franklands were finally creating a new business empire to last for generations to come. A big responsibility for a twenty-four-year-old who had grown up knowing she would someday marry a very wealthy man. She’d always had the best of everything. The best schools and college, the best boyfriends, the best society parties and now the best marriage to the most eligible son in the Frankland family. From there it would be a townhouse in New York, a weekend retreat in the Hamptons, a full social calendar and three children—starting as soon as possible because dynasties needed children. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have her freedoms. She had her own apartment, her own car, her own girlfriends and even her own income as a part time assistant in an art gallery. But these were only fill-ins before her real job as a wife and mother began.
“You seem to be preoccupied today, my dear. Is something wrong?”
Anna wished she could blurt out that everything was wrong. The second she’d arrived home, she’d thrown up. The drug perhaps, but more likely guilt. Cheating two months out from her marriage was despicable and she deserved to die for it. Except that wasn’t an option with her grandmother eyeing her suspiciously.
“Nothing’s wrong, Grandmama. You decide on which caterer.”
Grandmama sipped her wine. “Needless to say, I don’t want you to feel I’m taking over. This is your wedding, after all.”
