“You’ve really been watching me for a year and a half?” She whispered.
“Watching. Obsessing. Everything has been for you.” I took a step into her and drew her face up to mine as I kissed her hard and deep. Once I’d kissed her breathless, once I’d gotten a good taste of her mouth and her own juices on her lips, I said, “Repeat after me. You own me, Sir. Say it.”
She hesitated one second, two seconds. I didn’t punish her for it, though, not yet. Because I saw that flickering flame of fear in her eyes. Fear and need. She was getting it. Fuck yes, she was.
“You…” She stammered, voice husky and thick with desire. “You own me….” She was caught on the last word and I freed it with my hand gripping around her throat. “Sir.” She squeaked out as I felt her swallow under my palm.
Fuck yeah.
“I own this,” I moved my hand down and gripped her ass, “and this,” I pinched her nipple, “and especially this,” I said, cupping her pussy, compressing her lips and clit in my hand, and penetrating her one more time. She was so wet that her pussy squelched when I fingered her. Sexiest sound she’d made yet. “Get ready, baby. You’re about to get fucked.”
Chapter 10
Iris
He dragged a table over and hoisted me up onto it, still with my arms chained to the wall. He was rough with me; he didn’t hold me tenderly and carefully like he had before. More than ever, I was aware of his enormous strength. Now in his hands, I felt like an object, like a tool for his pleasure. His raw power was so intimidating that I couldn’t even speak.
And yet.
And yet…this wasn’t the life-or-death fear I’d felt earlier when the guards had threatened me, or even the blinding fear I felt for my father. This had a different shape, a different texture. It was a different sensation completely.
More like an ocean that I wanted to fall into rather than a flood I needed to escape. Like wildfire licking a mountainside, close enough to be dangerous but not so close as to make me think about my own death.
Sheer terror was cold; but when I looked at Randal, all I felt was hot. Hot like a sunburn, hot like a too-warm bath. Bearable, but only if I had enough courage to take it.
I can take it. I know I can. I will show him just how strong I am.
That heat intensified my desire and made me want him even more. Such a sinful feeling—wanting to feel afraid, wanting to fear his power. It made me forget my worries and my cares, I should have been ashamed that it pushed away the horror of all I’d seen and experienced today. And yet it felt so very right.
Randal stripped off his shirt but left on his pants and his boots. He was in complete control of me—and of this situation; his movements were confident and practiced. I glanced around, wondering for just one moment, how many women had been here before.
He turned to face me.
“You’re the only one, before you ask. This is all for you,” he said, slipping off his belt and unfastening the top few buttons of his pants, to allow more room for his already-bulging cock. He hooked one finger over the waistband as he studied me. “Everything, since the first moment I saw you, has been for you.”
I swallowed hard. I had a thousand questions for him.
Who am I to you? How do you know me? Why did you choose me for all of this?
But I was speechless with wanting, tongue-tied with desire. All of this was so new to me. I knew hardly anything about sex beyond what I’d seen on the farm.
I had so many questions, I was so unsure, but something in Randal’s eyes made it very clear that now wasn’t the time for me to ask. It was also clear to me that this wasn’t going to be some hurried roll in the hay, like village boys had with my friends.
This was artful.
Strategic.
Randal had a plan for me. And I was his to be taken.
He spread my legs on the edge of the table, buckling each of my calves to the table legs, careful to adjust the straps so that it didn’t pinch my bruised ankle. I sucked in a quick breath of surprise at the coldness of the metal buckles on my skin. It aroused me, that cold metal, so different from the warmth of his rough fingertips. He was close enough to me that I could smell his musky, salty, manly scent—it triggered something inside me, some kind of animal need.
Inhaling long and slow, I shifted my hips and eased into my restraints. Once my knees were spread wide and my sex was wide open for him to see, he stood back and gave me an approving stare. “Fuck, yeah, Iris. I’ve imagined you like this so many times.”
He stood in front of me staring, and I watched his cock grow hard in his pants.
“I’ll do anything you ask. Anything. I just want you inside me.”
Now he scoffed, looking at me like I was such a silly naïve little thing. He had an edge of anger in his eyes, in the set of his teeth. God, how I was drawn to that anger. My father’s anger had been my biggest fear; the most forbidden and dangerous of all emotions. This made my father look like a joke. I wanted to feel it, I wanted to play with it. I wanted to go there and come back again. What I wouldn’t give to play with that fire, to learn to be strong in the face of my fear.
“Shut up and listen, Iris,” Randal said, growing dark in his eyes, “There are rules you need to obey. You understand that?”
“Yes,” I said, but then, remembering how he had corrected me before, I said, “Yes, Sir.”
He liked that. I could see it. He smiled a little, smug and satisfied. Cocky. And seeing him pleased with me sent goosebumps through my body. I would do anything to see him happy like that. Anything.
Randal tipped my chin up with the V of his thumb and forefinger, so my throat stretched, and my neck arched back slightly.
“Here’s how it’s going to fucking go.” He touched my cheek with the pad of his thumb. His eyes were dark now. That crystal turquoise was replaced with something sinister and difficult to read. “You are here for my pleasure. Mine alone,” he growled. “I will use you; I will fuck you; I will keep you safe.”
I swallowed hard. “And what do I need to do in return?”
He placed his huge hand on my thigh, his thumb just inches from my opening. But not touching me there. Inches had never felt so far away.
“In return, you give me yourself.” He squeezed harder, hard enough to make it hurt. “You speak when spoken to. You ask permission to cum. You exist on my terms. You give me all of you. You deny me nothing. Ever,” he ground out from between gritted teeth.
His anger and pain were so apparent that it made my heart ache. He must have been through so much to make him this hard, and I wanted to be able to be tender in return. Even just for a second.
I wanted to touch him. I needed to touch him.
Though my hands were restrained, I clenched my fist, wishing so much that I could run my fingertips down the ridges of his abs, the valley between his pecs, the texture of his scars.
The clatter of my chain angered him. He narrowed his eyes at my hand, the muscles in his jaw throbbing, until I stopped my fussing. Calm, girl. Be calm.
Whatever was going to happen next wasn’t up to me. The sooner I accepted that, the better. Tenderness and touch would have to wait. I raised my eyes to him, finally, and met his gaze.
He didn’t have to explain to me what just happened. I was in his territory now. And I would play by his rules.
“I’m sorry,” I said, barely a whisper.
No response. Never breaking my stare, he crouched before me, so that his face was level with my sex. I could feel his heated breath making me tense and shiver at the same time.
For a long moment, he stayed there, motionless. He didn’t move. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t soften his eyes. He was like a hunter, eyeing his prey. He just let the tension build and build until I could hardly think.
I squirmed and bucked and whined. I wanted his mouth; I wanted his skin.
“Fucking relax,” he said. “I know you’ve seen horses broken. You know what the fuck to do.”
Oh god. I took a deep
breath and nodded. Calm. Calm. The sooner I stopped bucking, the better. The sooner I submitted, the sooner we could get to whatever came next.
I willed myself to calm down. I let it pour through me like honey. Through my throat, my arms, my stomach, my legs. I even forced myself to unclench my pussy. As I did, I felt a trickle of wetness spill from between my legs.
His eyes flashed.
“Good girl. Listen to me and I will treat you right. I will make you a fucktoy first—and a goddess always. I will ruin you and then make you whole. I will be your fucking everything.”
With that, he slid his tongue up my sex, forcing a near convulsion from me. He toyed and played with my most sensitive area.
My body jerked against the chains, but I was powerless to move. I gripped the chains hard, desperate to hang onto something, anything, as the pleasure made the room swirl. With two fingers he stretched my opening and dipped his tongue inside me, sucking and biting and slurping up my wetness. My thighs desperately tried to close around his head, but my restraints were too tight.
“Fight them all you fucking want,” he said, wiping his rough cheek on my inner thigh, “There’s not a fucking thing you can do to get away from me now.”
It was true. The more I fought, the less focus I had on him. So I let go, bit by bit, to the feeling between my legs. Somewhere in all the pleasure, my restraints gave me strength; they held me up when I thought I’d pass out from the pleasure. That tongue, oh my sweet lord, that tongue of his. It was magic.
He groaned, a deep rumble that I felt more than heard, and then pulled away to say, “Christ, you taste good. I want you so fucking bad.”
His beautiful lips were slippery with my wetness. God, how I wanted to clean him. God, how I wanted his kisses on my mouth.
He didn’t give them to me. All I could do was ask, my voice a shaking whisper, “Will you kiss me?”
He shook his head. “No. When I choose to I will and not before.”
Oh God, why was that so sexy? I let out an almost cat-like purr, a sound I’d never made ever before. Like some primal part of me was begging him, speaking a language I didn’t know I knew. It was as if I’d known his answer before I even asked. I knew I was on thin ice, but I pushed a little harder, testing him. Seeing what might happen.
“If you give me what I want, then I have the power. And you don’t want that.”
He ground his teeth together. He looked mad but also delighted. Both things at once. I’d seen that look before—the fury of a good challenge.
“You’re thinking too much,” he growled.
Smiling a little, he drew the thin skin of my sex tight over my clitoris. Then, using his huge first finger, he flicked a quick succession of hard taps on my clit, making me writhe with pain and pleasure. “I need you to come hard for me, Iris. Really fucking hard.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“If you ever hold back with me,” he said, stopping to suck my clit away from my body in a way that made me squirm, “I will not be pleased. It’s your job to please me. I want all of you. I want you loud and raw and impolite. You got that?”
That, at least, I did understand, and I nodded, swallowing hard. Fear had made my throat dry. Fear and excitement both.
Now he penetrated me again, this time with his middle finger. “The first time I ever saw you, at the harvest festival, you looked like little more than a girl.”
I stared down at him, blinking hard. “I did?”
He smiled up at me.
“Fuck yes, you did. You were in a dark green dress. But you’re a woman now.”
The memory spun my thoughts back to that day. I had to fight with my own brain to get there, determined as it was to focus only on what was going on between my legs. “I remember. But I don’t remember you.”
He didn’t say anything more, but instead took me in his mouth again. He sucked and bit and dipped his tongue inside me. When he growled against my pussy, I felt a new wave of pleasure and gasped up at the stone ceiling. “Oh my God.”
Nodding into my legs, he increased the intensity with his tongue. I thrashed against my restraints, making the table rock beneath me. A warm rush radiated up from deep inside my thighs and I started to fall into the most intense, overwhelming pleasure.
With one massive hand, he reached up to my throat, compressing it slightly. He pulled his mouth off of me just long enough to say, “Ask my fucking permission. Please let me come. Fucking say it.”
“Please…” I begged. “Please let me come.” No response. And I was getting closer and closer and… “Please, Randal.”
Still, no response. I could hardly hold it off any longer. I was falling into a warm pool, starting with the tips of my toes. If I came without permission, I didn’t know what would happen to me. But my body was taking over without my consent, and pretty soon there would be nothing I could do to stop myself from….
“Fucking come for me,” he snarled, doubling down on my pussy as I came, intensifying the orgasm ten times over.
Still in the middle of it, still out-of-control with pleasure, when I was painting and thrashing and roaring his name, he pulled away from me, stepping back, making me suffer without his touch.
“Please, please, please,” I roared, kicking the table legs hard, making the table rock and clatter. “Please let me feel you.”
He took one angry step into me. “Do I look like I fucking care what you beg for?”
The harshness of his words should have been off putting but instead I melted into a pool of surrender. I didn’t care about anything just then. I didn’t care how mad I made him.
“Punish me all you want, but please just get inside me.”
He growled and let his pants drop. It was the first time I’d ever seen him completely, and he was enormous. My mouth dropped open and I gasped. He laughed a little as he stroked himself into full erection.
“Fuck, you’re so perfect. So goddamned perfect. Perfect for me.”
Kicking off his boots and stripping off his pants, he stood completely naked before me. His burns and scars extended all the way down his body. They were a part of him and only served to turn me on more—if that was possible.
“Tell me what you feel when you look at me.” He half-grunted, my eyes pinned to where his enormous hand encircled his thick shaft, moving the skin up and down, mesmerizing me.
I didn’t even need to think about it. “Hunger.”
“Fuck. And tell me what you see when you look at me.”
“Power.”
“Such a good girl,” he groaned. He ran his tongue over his teeth, smiling, and shook his head at me, then turned and walked across the dungeon. “Perfect fucking answers from my perfect little slut.”
From a table by the door, he took the key to my wrist shackles. He made his way back over to me, with his veined and throbbing erection straight and ready. Very carefully and very slowly, he undid the iron locks. I flexed my fingers as he placed a kiss to my palms. But much to my surprise, he didn’t undo my leg restraints—not yet. Instead, he walked to the other side of the dungeon and took a coiled length of rope from the hook on the wall.
“It’s time to make a woman out of you, Iris. Time for you to learn to take my cock. Time for your body to worship me. Are you ready?”
All I could do was nod, but all I could think was, yes, oh Jesus, yes.
He bound my wrists tightly with the rope, and then unbuckled me from the table. Once he was certain I was steady on my legs, which were wobbly from so much pleasure and struggle, he led me across the dungeon to a secondary door. The door opened onto a small room, that contained only a bed, which I noticed was bolted to the floor. He led me over to it and then shoved me face down onto the mattress.
Though his actions were rough and aggressive, there was a deliberateness that made me feel protected and cared for in a way that I had never felt before.
“Get on your knees. Face down. Forehead to the sheets.”
I did exactly as he said, nestling my k
nees beneath me. I crossed my legs, calf-over-calf, and lifted my hips.
“That’s right. Offer that ass to me. Fucking do it.”
Wiggling on my knees, I rounded out my hips, smiling myself into the mattress. Trying to make myself irresistible. But just as he had when I was on the table, he made me wait. I knew better now than to struggle, to ask, to question him. I trusted him to do what needed to be done; I trusted him with my body, with whatever came next. Patiently, vibrating with anticipation, I waited.
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.
Masked Prince (Fated Royals Book 2) Page 8
