by Parker Grey
“Spit it the fuck out,” I command.
He stands even straighter.
“She gave her name as Isabelle Marchand, and my commanding—”
I bolt out of my chair, shut the monitor off, my office quickly going dead silent as my insides all twist together like they’re being wrung out.
She’s here.
She came back.
Belle came back.
I didn’t think she would. After more than a week, I thought she’d taken her freedom and escaped me, and as much as I hated the thought of never seeing her again, I couldn’t blame her.
I’m everything a girl like her doesn’t need. I’m damaged, I’m rough, I’m impolite and unkempt. I blur the line between pleasure and pain, and even though she liked it — even though she begged me for it — I can’t help but hate myself sometimes.
A girl like Belle should be worshipped, put on a pedestal, treated like a princess. Not cuffed to a bed, spanked, and fucked hard.
It’s what she wanted, a voice in my head whispers.
It’s why she stayed.
It’s why she’s back.
I swallow hard, slam open the door to my office. I look down at myself, wearing a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants slung around my hips, and I try frantically to remember if I showered that morning.
I think I did.
No, I definitely did. Thank God.
I leave my quarters, ignoring the surprised look on the faces of the guards. They’ve never seen their prince wearing sweatpants before, not to mention that I’ve only let a few people — my cook and my manservant — see me in the past few days, because I know what I look like.
And I don’t care. Belle came back.
I walk swiftly through the halls, down the stairs, to the palace’s side driveway, ignoring the stares that I’m getting from the people who work for me. Let them look, if anyone says anything they’ll be fired so fucking fast they won’t believe it.
Then I’m there, standing outside. The day is a little chilly, unseasonably so, and I can tell that the garage attendants and guards all want to stare but they don’t. I stand there, perfectly still, watching the driveway.
After what feels like an eternity, a car rounds the corner and begins driving up the slight hill.
It’s not a nice car, just a car. A Toyota, maybe, a couple of years old with a ding on the front fender. But behind the wheel is her, clear as day, and I cross my arms in front of my chest, my heart beating against my ribs.
She came back. She came back.
Belle pulls up. One of my men is opening her door before she’s even shut the car off, but she’s not looking at him, she’s looking over at me, bending over slightly to see me through the passenger side window. Her face is unreadable, and my heart squeezes in my chest for the millionth time.
She could be back to say goodbye, I think.
Then she’s out of the car, walking toward me, long brown hair drifting over her face in the breeze and she smiles when she sees me, looking so unabashedly happy that I can’t help but smile too.
It’s a strange feeling, because people never smile when they see me. They stand up straighter, they cast their eyes down, they fidget. They don’t smile.
“Julian,” she says when she’s a few feet away, reaching toward me. “I’m so sorry, I know I was gone for so—”
I take her face in my huge hands and kiss her. I don’t care if she’s here to say goodbye, I need this one last thing from her, need it more than I’ve ever needed anything.
Belle melts into me, her arms wrapping around my body. She makes a small, needy noise and opens her mouth under mine, and suddenly I’m plundering her with my tongue, pulling her closer, our kiss hard and desperate and full of longing.
After a long time, she pulls away, her lips bright red and slightly swollen, her eyes hazy. All the guards outside are staring forward, rigidly, and I know that even if none of them are looking at us we’re what they’re watching right now.
“You came back,” I say, my voice so low and soft that no one but her can hear it.
She smiles again, her big eyes blinking up at me,
“Of course I did,” she whispers. “Of course I came back.”
I’m hard as a rock, tracing my fingers down her spine. I’m desperate to grab her ass, haul her to the stone wall of the castle, tear our clothes off and take her as hard as I can, right here. But I can’t, not with all these people watching, and I twist the bottom of her shirt between my fingers instead, using every last strand of my willpower.
“I love you,” I breathe. “And I need you.”
She takes my face in her hands, runs her thumb over my cheekbone.
“And I have something for you,” I growl, my voice lowering.
The spark of desire in Belle’s eyes is unmistakable.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Belle
I have to fight the urge to sprint back to Julian’s quarters. Even as it is, he takes my hand and sets off at a pace that has me nearly running to keep up, but I don’t mind.
This is everything I’ve thought about for days now, this is what’s kept me awake at night. Imagining what he’d do to me — what we’d do — when I got back.
Still, it’s a shock to see him like this. It’s the most unkempt I’ve ever see the prince, wearing casual clothes and no shoes. I don’t think he’s shaved in a couple of days, from the way his stubble scraped my face when he kissed me.
I don’t mind. It felt good, rough and raw and real. It hurt the way that being away from him hurt, only better.
“Here,” he growls, striding up to the door of his quarters and flinging it open so hard it slams into the wall behind it, but he’s already turning around, slamming it shut, lifting me so my legs wrap around his thick, muscled torso.
His hard cock is already against me, shifting the plug in my ass, and I can feel every millimeter of it through the soft material of his sweatpants. I can’t help but moan into his mouth as he presses himself into me, his mouth claiming mine, his hands roaming all over me.
“You missed me, didn’t you?” he growls, pushing his hips against mine even harder.
I shudder as the length of his clothed cock rubs against my clit, against the plug, even through the jeans I’m still wearing.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
He squeezes my breasts with both hands, and my nipples go hard instantly under his touch. Julian pinches them both through my shirt and bra, hard, making me gasp and whimper for more.
Suddenly he releases me, stepping away, my feet on the floor again, my back pressed against the door though his hands are still on either side of my head, trapping me.
“Strip,” he commands.
I do it without a second thought, getting my t-shirt off over my head, unhooking my plain bra and tossing it away, sliding my jeans and panties down and off. I’m not wearing anything sexy or nice, just what I put on this morning, not thinking I’d see him.
But it doesn’t matter right now. I’m bare and he’s clothed, the knowledge of that simple fact sending a thrill racing through my body as he lets his eyes devour me slowly, inch by inch.
Carefully, gently, he strokes one nipple with a thumb, a deep growl rumbling out of his chest.
“Did you think about me while you were gone?” he asks.
I nod, breathless.
“I didn’t want to,” I admit. “But I couldn’t help it.”
“What did you think about?”
I swallow hard.
“This,” I answer.
He pinches my nipple, twisting it slightly, sending a shock of pain and pleasure through my whole body.
“Be specific,” he growls.
“I thought about…”
I trail off for a second, and he twists a little harder, my pussy getting wetter.
“I thought about you spanking me until my ass was bright red,” I admit, gasping.
“And?”
“I thought about you pushing me onto the bed, holding me down, and f
ucking me hard until I came,” I whisper.
I can’t believe the words I’m saying out loud.
“I thought about the way you look at me when I’m tied up with your cock in my mouth,” I go on, my voice barely audible. “And I thought about…”
Julian grabs me by the waist, spins me around. He takes my hands and pulls them over my head, pinning my wrists against the door, and he leans in, his other hand slowly moving up my inner thigh.
“Tell me,” he whispers roughly.
“I thought about having you inside me,” I admit, nearly breathless. “I thought about taking you in every hole, how I want you to make me yours and use me however you want.”
Without warning, he plunges his fingers into me and my words cut out with a moan. I arch my back, torso against the cool wood of the door, desperate to take him deeper and begging for more.
The palm of his hand presses against the plug in my ass, shifting it inside me and making me pant for breath, standing on my tiptoes, my whole body begging for him.
“You kept it in,” he says into my ear.
I can only nod, his fingers stroking me from the inside, lightning sparking through my whole body.
“You’re fucking perfect, Belle,” he whispers. “I don’t know how I came to deserve you, but I’m going to give you every single thing you want.”
He pulls his fingers out of me, spins me back around, and before I know what’s happening I’m over his shoulder and he’s walking into his bedroom. His hand grips my upper thigh, and he shifts it so his fingers just barely brush my pussy, my clit, my ass as he walks.
I hear the bookcase open. Just the sound makes my toes curl in anticipation, and then we’re in the secret room, the smell of warm leather and whiskey everywhere.
Julian tosses me onto the bed in the middle, and I bounce once. Then he’s on top of me, his huge form between my legs, grabbing my wrists again, shoving them over my head.
I surrender. It’s all I can do, all I want, and he wraps the leather cuffs around them, attaches me to the wrought iron headboard as I squirm, panting for breath.
The insides of my thighs are already wet, slick with my juices, and Julian bites one nipple and then the other roughly as he makes his way down my body, shoving my legs apart.
He cuffs my ankles easily, pulls the straps, and then I’m completely bound and helpless, at his total mercy as he kneels between my legs.
Julian pushes his fingers back inside me, making my hips buck and my back arch. I think I might come from this alone, just the sensation of him inside me, but then he bends his head to my pussy and starts lapping at my clit.
I gasp and then moan, the sound echoing from the walls. He’s never done this before and my body can barely take it, double-stuffed as he licks me roughly, his stubble scraping against my inner thighs as he pinches one nipple between his fingers.
Julian’s not gentle. He uses his tongue and his teeth, sucks on my clit until it almost hurts and then backs off, his fingers curling inside me, the plug shifting in my ass.
He doesn’t coax me to orgasm, he demands one from me and in moments I’m coming, fast and furious and unexpected, screaming his name as it echoes from the walls of his secret dungeon.
“That’s what you wanted?” he growls into my hip as I’m still coming down, my body trembling and shuddering, his fingers still fucking me hard and rough. “I do like making you scream, Belle.”
“Yes,” I say, still breathless, swallowing hard, and he laughs, his breath puffing over my bare, sensitive skin.
“Good,” he says, nipping at me with his teeth. “Because I’m about to give you every single thing you asked for.”
With that Julian rises up on his knees, still in front of my spread legs, and pulls his shirt off.
I gasp, unable to help myself. He’s covered in scars over the rippling muscle, some long and jagged and some thin and white, all radiating across his body from his right hip to his left shoulder. They’re at the same angle as the scars on his face and the one obliterating his eye.
For a moment I’m wordless, looking at him, not sure what to say because this must be why he’s never taken his shirt off in front of me before, despite me routinely being totally naked.
I bite my lip, eyes raking over his body. The scars somehow make him more beautiful, not less, make me ache to touch him even more than I did before.
He’s got his big, warm hands around my ankles, softly caressing them with his thumbs.
“IED by the side of the road,” he says softly, his voice all gravel. “I was told the road had been cleared. It hadn’t. I got off easy.”
I open my mouth to say something, even if I don’t know what, but instead Julian leans over and kisses me roughly, his hands squeezing and raking along my body, his still-clothed cock pressing into me.
I bite his lip, moaning, and he chuckles, closing one hand around my hair.
“You like the thought of being taken by a beast?” he asks, his teeth around my ear lobe.
I shudder, and he grinds himself against me so hard that for a moment I think he’s about to enter me, still clothed.
“You’re not a beast,” I whisper.
He bites the soft, tender flesh of my neck, sucking at it until I’m sure I’m bruised.
“Wait until I’m finished with you to say that,” he murmurs.
Julian sits up again, his hands on my ankles, and unlocks me. In one quick, smooth motion he’s taken me by the hip and ankle and flipped me so suddenly that I yelp, hands still bound over my head, and I land face-down on his soft bed, legs spread again.
I get my knees under me as he locks my legs in place one more time, still wide, still making sure I’m nearly helpless. There’s a soft rustle as he tosses away his pants, grabs my thighs and leans over me, biting into my shoulder, his cock in the valley between my buttocks, pressing against the plug.
I moan, pressing backward, hoping against hope that I can somehow get him inside me with that simple movement, but it doesn’t work. Julian just chuckles and then there’s a sharp slap on my ass, his handprint stinging and vibrating through my whole body.
“I told you once I’d make you beg,” he growls, the flat of his hand landing on my other ass cheek. “But I think you already are, Belle.”
My pussy throbs with anticipation, my elbows on the bed and my face in the pillows. I’m bound and stretched out, totally at Julian’s mercy, and all I want is for him to fuck me every way he wants.
His hands are on my ass, and for a moment, he puts one thumb on the plug, wiggling it inside me as I gasp and whimper before his hands move lower, thumbs stroking my pussy together, spreading my lips, skimming past my clit just to tease me.
I’m so vulnerable right now, letting this man look at me this way, letting him do whatever he wants, and I can’t help but like it. My pleasure is here, being his, being at Julian’s beck and call.
He puts the tip of his fat cock against my clit, the soft, warm skin a sudden surprise, and I gasp, pussy muscles already fluttering as I moan, leaning back into him as I arch my back. I’d do anything right now to make him slide his delicious length just a few inches higher, fuck me fast and hard until I screamed into this pillow, but it doesn’t work.
After all, I’m not the one in control. Julian just chuckles, stroking my lips with his thumb, the head of his cock against my clit, sending sparks through my body as I moan again, hands fisted in my cuffs.
Slowly, so slowly I think I might die of anticipation, Julian’s cock moves up my body, from my clit to my pussy, his girth resting against my entrance, both his hands on my ass as he plays with the plug.
I’m gasping and moaning into the pillow, desperate for him to fuck me already because this is a different form of torture from the others.
There’s a moment when I’m sure he’s not going to do it, that he’s going to withhold himself again and make me wait, but then he pushes the thick head of his enormous cock inside me and I gasp, my hands clenching the pillow next to
my face.
The plug filling my ass makes him feel impossibly huge, even bigger than his already massive girth, and for a moment I nearly beg him to stop, there’s no way I can take it.
But he doesn’t stop. He wraps his hands around my thighs and pushes himself into my tight pussy, millimeter by millimeter, making me scream and groan and pant his name, over and over.
He reaches up my back, one hand between my shoulder blades, pushes me down while his other hand pulls up on my hips, sinking himself a little further into me, his cock driving straight into the nerves against my delicate front wall, making my whole body shudder as I cry out.
Finally, he’s hilted himself and he pulls my body back against him, his huge cock shifting the plug in my ass, the mix of sensations so perfect and heady and good that I can feel myself already unraveling, about to come as Julian pulls back, fucks me again.
I shout into the pillow and he smacks my ass, the sting taking my breath away for a moment as he fucks me again and again, each time a little bit faster and harder than the last, each stroke filling me so completely that I see white stars around the edges of my vision.
Just as I’m about to come, though, he stops. He keeps himself buried deep inside me, feeling my pussy flutter and shiver, and I pant for breath. I don’t know how much longer I can take this when he bends over, shifting his cock and eliciting a long, low moan from me, teetering on the brink of orgasm.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he growls.
I can barely think, let alone form words.
“Tell me,” he growls again, pulling on my hips roughly as almost-there stars explode in front of my vision.
“I’m yours,” I manage to gasp out.
Suddenly he pulls out, and I gasp, pussy clenching at the sudden emptiness.
“No,” I whimper, but before I can say anything else, before I can beg him to fuck me hard until I come, I feel the plug move in my ass again.
Julian pulls it out, tosses it somewhere. I hear the sound of a bottle being opened and then there’s something cool and wet on my now-empty back hole, Julian’s thick fingers spreading it around.
I swallow hard, suddenly nervous. Even though I’ve had my ass plugged for a week, he’s definitely way, way bigger than the plug, and I don’t know if I can take him.
