“How fucking d?—”
I spank her again.The scream turns to a moan, her hips tilting to angle her backside towards me.
I fucking knew it.
“Filthy little princess, aren’t you?”
She wriggles against my grip.Her cheeks flame red, though I can’t tell whether it’s fury, frustration or the deep-seated need to be fucked.
I’m betting all three.
It’s exactly how a brat should be feeling after that outburst.
“Spread your legs, Princess.I need to examine the effects of my work.”
Her jaw clamps shut so hard her teeth make that godsawful grinding sound.She glares at me with the kind of fury that makes my pussy clench but dutifully spreads her legs just wide enough I can see the glisten of wet pooling at her core.She tips her chin at me, defiant.Pissy.Annoyed that she liked it.Desperate for more.
I let out a satisfied sigh.“I knew you just needed to be treated right, and you’d toe the line.”
“The only line I’ll be toeing is the blade drawing across your neck as Mother executes you for touching me.”
I rub my hand over her arse cheek, soothing the sting.“The more you fight, the more I’ll enjoy it.”
I let my hand glide over her skin and between her thighs.Her breathing increases, blood flowing into her cunt, her cheeks.All of it making the air smell like that heady concoction of clean wind, sweet budding flowers and the piney heart of a forest.
She’s panting, her hips grinding into my legs, desperate.My fingers reach her pussy and stop.
“Dahlia…” she whines.
“Such a juxtaposition, aren’t you?”
She frowns.
“Cussing me out with that filthy mouth of yours, and yet, your pussy is telling a very different story.You’re begging for it.”
“Fuck you,” she spits.And yet, she doesn’t pull away, but instead shuffles her arse closer, giving me better access.
I slide a single finger from her clit to her soaking entrance.She gasps, then it dissolves into a moan.
“The word you’re looking for is, Sir.Fuck you, Sir.”
I pull away.
Her eyes flash.
I relinquish her, shoving her off my thighs so she drops unceremoniously to the floor with a thunk.Her fists ball.
I stand up, examine the finger I touched her with.She stays sitting but follows my movement, watching, waiting.
If I had more self-control, I’d wipe her excitement off me.But I never claimed to be perfect, and I’d rather like to taste magician pussy.I suck her juice off my finger and have to forcibly suppress a moan of delight.Her lips part as she watches me, her expression gleaming, and I have to wonder who is playing who.Who is actually in control here?
Her flavour coats my tongue.A delicious sweetness, something a little deep and a little sharp.
I round on her.“This is how it’s going to go.One, you’re going to make this job easy, and you’re not to leave my side until the wedding is over.Understood?”
Her jaw flexes.
“I’ll take your silence as a yes.Which brings me to two.You’re going to use actual words to answer my questions.”
