Claiming His Princess

by Parker Grey

  But I can’t stop thinking about showing her this room, about the way her eyes might light up in half nervousness and half arousal.

  I can’t stop thinking about what she’d look like bent over the spanking bench, hands and feet fastened together, or how she might cry out when I flogged her.

  Most of all, I can’t stop thinking about how it felt to be deep inside Belle — her mouth, her pussy — and how every second I’m awake, I’m aching to take her in every hole, make that sweet girl filthy.

  The next morning, before I leave to go rule the kingdom, I give Belle a box and tell her not to open it until that evening. I’ve got no doubt that she’ll obey me completely and that she’s wet just thinking about what could possibly be in there.

  I know, of course. And I know that despite herself, she’ll like it. She’ll have a hard time not getting herself off the moment she opens the box to see what’s inside.

  “You won’t try to run away again, will you?” I ask just before I leave.

  She smiles, a laugh around her eyes. Belle is wearing a floor-length black silk robe, the only clothing I left her, and I can see her stiff nipples already poking at the fabric.

  “Of course not,” she says, the box under one arm.

  I swallow hard, staring at her perfect, willing body. If I wanted to, I could bend her over the sofa right now, make my filthy girl scream before I got on with the business of running a country, but I need to have some self-control.

  Besides, this will give me something to look forward to today.

  “Good,” I growl at her, brushing one thumb across her obvious nipple.

  Belle closes her eyes, lips parted, a shiver running through her body as she leans into me, practically begging for my touch.

  “And no peeking,” I tell her, then turn abruptly and leave the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Belle

  The next eight or nine hours are torture. I desperately want to know what’s in the box, because I know it’s something that I’ll like and shouldn’t.

  But I don’t open it, because I don’t want to disobey Julian. Even if he wouldn’t know, I get a strange, deep thrill of satisfaction when I do as he says. It sets something humming deep inside me, something I never imagined could be so… satisfying.

  Being trapped and kept is strange. Usually I’d be at the shop by now, tidying up, making sure everything is in order, running through the day’s calendar, all those tasks that a successful business requires.

  I’ve got nothing to do here, though. I don’t even have proper clothes — not even a bra or panties, just this black silk robe, and I’m sure that’s not an accident. Every time I move it brushes softly against my skin, my body heat warming it instantly, the movement surprisingly erotic even if I’m just curling onto the couch with a book.

  And thinking about Julian, tearing it off of me. Tying my hands over my head to one of the huge posts on his bed and ravaging my body before taking me again, hard and unprotected like he did last night.

  Like I’ve never done before, with nothing at all between us. My nipples stiffen even more at the thought that he could get me pregnant, that I’d carry his child for nine months, his mark on me utterly indelible.

  But then I clear my throat and shake my head. I’m always hearing that it’s harder than I think to get pregnant, and I’m sure I’ve got nothing to worry about.

  Late that afternoon, I’m sitting on my own bed, nearly nauseous with anxiety because no matter how aroused and excited I am, no matter how much I can’t wait for Julian to come through that door and see what I’m wearing, it makes me nervous.

  What if it’s not him?

  What if he’s changed his mind?

  What if this is some kind of elaborate joke and it gets out that the prim, proper bookstore owner let the prince treat her this way?

  I’d never sell another book…

  There’s a key in the lock.

  I hold my breath.

  The door creaks open, and I stand. The door closes, and I can hear Julian putting his things down.

  “Belle?” he calls.

  I take a deep breath, pull open the door to my own room, and walk out.

  The moment I see him the tension all vanishes with the hungry look in his eyes. In seconds, I can see his cock inflate, and I squeeze my fingernails into my palms with excitement, remembering last night and the pleasures it brought.

  “Come here,” he growls.

  I walk across the room to him, my new outfit weighing strangely on my body even though I’m wearing nearly nothing, just nipple clamps chained together, a tiny thong that may as well not be there, and leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles.

  The cuffs clank quietly as I walk, the metal rings on them making a soft sound against the leather. The chain on my nipple clamps sways, tugging on both nipples at once, sending a shiver down my back.

  I’m so exposed, so vulnerable.

  I don’t know what I’m in for. I’ve got an idea, of course, an idea that makes me shudder and tremble, already soaking through the tiny mesh thong that’s barely there.

  Julian doesn’t say anything, but he slowly traces one finger from my jawline to my neck, past the hollow of my throat, between my breasts, until he reaches the chain dangling between them.

  He hooks his finger around it and gives it a slight tug, not hard enough to move the clamps but hard enough to make me gasp, my eyes seeking his as my fists clench into balls, the sharp sensation sending a wave of pleasure through my body.

  “You’ve never done this before,” he says, giving it another slight tug.

  I have to close my eyes, bite my lip, inhale before I can answer.

  “No, sir,” I finally whisper.

  His finger moves down my body, straight over my bellybutton, until he dips his whole hand into my tiny thong, fingers spreading my lips apart.

  I stand there, unmoving, pulse racing as I pant for breath. I’m slipping quickly into subspace, into the place I go where all I want is to please Julian, to let him use me, where the most intense pleasure I can possibly get comes from making him feel good.

  I’ll move when he tells me.

  Everything for him.

  He drags a finger through my wetness, a moan escaping my lips, but it’s short-lived because he brings his hand from my wet panties and holds his finger up to my mouth.

  I close my lips around his finger and taste myself instantly, moaning as I suck my own juices from him, tongue swirling around the tip as I relish my own salty-sweet taste.

  “You like tasting yourself, my dirty little girl?” he murmurs.

  I just meet his eyes and nod, tongue lavishing over his finger. He makes me feel wild and wanton, and right now I’d let him do anything to me.

  God, I even want him to.

  “Turn around,” he murmurs, his voice still quiet, barely over a growl.

  I do it instantly, realizing that we’re now facing a mirror. I’m standing in front of him, fully clothed in a three-piece suit while I’m wearing nearly nothing. He’s so tall that I don’t even come up to his chin, and his broad body is much wider than mine.

  Julian anchors one hand in my hair, pulling my head to one side while his other hand explores my body, his thick, calloused fingers exploring me inch by inch while he watches in the mirror.

  “You’re so beautiful, Belle,” he whispers in my ear, sliding his hand possessively over my ass, one finger between my buttocks, sliding right over my puckered back hole in a way that makes me gasp and shudder.

  “I can’t wait to ruin you.”

  He says that with a final jerk to my hair, pulling my head backward, and he captures my mouth in a savage kiss, exploring me with his tongue.

  I wrap one hand around his neck, feeling his speeding pulse there, his other hand possessively wandering my body, pressing my hips back against his enormous, still-clothed erection, grinding our bodies together until I nearly cry out with anticipation.

  Finally, he releases me, ha
nd still in my hair, pausing for a long moment. Then he lets me go, hooks a finger under the waistband of my thong, snaps it against my skin.

  “Walk into my bedroom,” he commands me.

  I do it, body pulsing and aching with desire, pussy swollen with anticipation of the moment he’ll push me down on the bed and fuck me with that beautiful cock, the only thing I’ve really been able to think about for the last day.

  But the moment we’re inside the door and I’m looking at the bed, he speaks again, still right behind me.

  “Pull out the copy of Justine from the shelf,” he growls, his voice so close it’s practically vibrating through my body.

  I find the thick title, grab the book, and try to pull it out but it seems stuck and only the top comes.

  I frown, tugging at it harder, but then there’s a click and the whole bookshelf moves.

  I gasp, jumping back into Julian’s hard body, the wool of his suit rough against my skin.

  He just chuckles as the bookshelf swings open, revealing what’s behind it.

  Holy shit.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Belle

  It’s a sex dungeon.

  I’ve read about sex dungeons, but I’ve never seen one before. I didn’t even completely believe that they existed, but here I am, practically naked and standing in the doorway to one.

  I’m speechless, motionless. I don’t know what to do, but Julian leans down, puts his lips next to my ear.

  “Go on,” he growls, and I step forward.

  I don’t know what most of this stuff is. There’s a wall lined with whips and floggers, a huge wooden X against one wall, and a few pieces of furniture outfitted with cuffs and locks and chains.

  Not to mention the enormous bed in the middle of the room, made up with the same black silk sheets as Julian’s regular bed.

  “Ready to play, Belle?” he asks, caressing my neck with surprising gentleness.

  I swallow hard, remembering last night, the pleasure-pain of being spanked, of letting Julian do whatever he wanted to me.

  “Yes, sir,” I finally whisper.

  He takes my hand and leads me in, closing the bookcase behind us. The light in here is low, the air warm enough that I’m not cold.

  As he passes the wall, Julian grabs a small flogger — or maybe it’s a whip, I don’t really know — from a hook, his hand still on the small of my back as he leads me to a chain hanging from the ceiling.

  “Put your hands over your head,” he growls in my ear, his lips close to my neck.

  A shiver passes through my body as I obey, and before I know it, the cuffs on my wrists are attached to the chain and I can’t move.

  Then there’s something over my eyes and I’m blindfolded, Julian tying it behind my head. I’m panting for breath, my ribs expanding under my skin, and with every inhale I jostle the chain attached to my nipples, shooting sensation through my torso.

  Julian caresses my behind with the implement he’s got, that small motion sending a cascade of shivers through my body. Not being able to see heightens every sensation to its maximum, and I’m biting my lip in pure anticipation, not knowing whether to expect pleasure or pain.

  One hand caresses my breast, fingers light on my swollen nipple.

  “I told you that you’d be mine, didn’t I?” he whispers in my ear.

  “Yes,” I whisper, and that short word has left my lips the flogger has landed on my ass, right in the middle of my left cheek and I gasp, hands clenching at the chain above my head.

  The pain bolts through my body, leaves me unable to breathe for a moment, dancing on my toes, arms sagging in my cuffs. But then there’s Julian’s hand on the front of my body, tugging lightly at the chain between my nipples, and the noise I finally make is somewhere between a groan and a sigh.

  “You, Belle,” Julian starts.

  The flogger lands on the other cheek, just as hard as the first one, and I gasp again, fingers and toes clenching as the sensation sizzles along my nerves, hot and cold all at once.

  “Are completely and utterly mine.”

  This time it lands on my upper thigh, the sensitive skin just below my ass, half an inch from my soaking wet pussy and I just moan, the sound somehow encompassing everything I’m feeling right now, pleasure and pain and desire all at once.

  He keeps flogging me, and I can feel the swollen, raised welts he’s raising along my backside, my whole body lit up with the feeling of half pleasure and half pain.

  Julian slides his left hand down the front of my body as he keeps flogging me with his right, his rough fingers shoving under my barely-there thong and finding my clit.

  He just chuckles into my ear as he starts circling it with his fingers, the flogger landing on a part of my thigh he hadn’t gotten to yet, a fresh welt swelling almost instantly.

  “You’re ready to come in two seconds,” he murmurs into my ear, pinching my clit between two fingers. “You must like being my dirty little pet, Belle.”

  The flogger hits me again, his fingers pressing lightly against my clit, and I can only throw my head back and moan, the mix of pleasure and pain almost too much for me.

  Julian only gets rougher. He brings me to the brink of orgasm again and again until I’m begging him to either make me come or stop, and then he does it again. And again.

  My legs can barely hold me up, but Julian’s relentless, my words only egging him on, bringing his monster out even further.

  “More,” he growls in my ear, the flogger landing savagely on fresh skin.

  “Please,” I whimper, his fingers working me close to the brink again. “Make me come. Fuck me, do anything you want, just let me come.”

  “Let you come…”

  His gravelly voice trails off.

  “Let me come, sir,” I whisper.

  He strikes me one last time, a blow that nearly brings me to my knees and to climax at the same time, and then he stops. I hear something small and wooden hit the floor behind me, then he grabs my hands in one of his, his still-clothed cock suddenly against my ass, hard and swollen, the cloth against my freshly-flogged skin incredibly sensitive.

  “Please,” I breathe again, the only word I can think right now.

  Suddenly my hands are released and he’s pushing me forward, across the floor, until the front of my thighs hits something padded, and I stumble, my elbows hitting more padding as I gasp in surprise.

  Before I know it, he’s pulled my arms down, the cuffs locked to something else, his hands sliding over the sensitive skin on my ass before he locks my legs in as well and suddenly I’m bent over, my torso pressed against what feels like expensive leather, unable to move again.

  Behind me there’s a soft zipping sound, and then Julian yanks my tiny thong off with a single motion, the thin fabric biting into my flesh for a moment before giving way.

  “You nearly made me lose control,” he growls, one hand on my back, pushing me down into the leather cushions. “It’s time you learned what happens when you do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Julian

  Belle’s chained to one of the medieval-looking pieces of furniture in my dungeon, bent over, blindfolded, her ass and thighs red and swollen from the flogging she just took.

  Red, swollen, and wet. She’s so turned on right now that her pussy juices are running down her thighs, her clit swollen and practically begging for me to touch it, lick it, shatter her world yet again and make her come.

  I push my hand up her back, feeling her breathe, my other hand wrapped around my swollen cock. I’m dripping precum onto the floor, and I have to force myself to take this all in for a moment, appreciate this scene.

  It’s what I’ve wanted, after all. Having Belle like this is everything I’ve dreamed of.

  In a flash, I close my hand around her delicate shoulder, put my cock against her swollen, wet entrance, and hilt myself with one thrust.

  Belle cries out, the sound half-shout and half-moan, her pussy clenching around the sudden
intrusion, gripping me like a fist. Her back arches, her ass rising as she goes onto her toes, unconsciously offering herself to me, asking me for even more.

  Lucky girl, I’ve got something in mind.

  “You want me to fuck you hard?” I growl, grinding my pelvis against hers, my thick cock as deep inside her as it’ll go, her muscles still trying to pull me in further.

  “Yes,” she whispers, her voice barely there. “Please.”

  God, she feels good, her channel tight and wet, still pulsing and throbbing around me as I pull out of her completely, tease her opening with the tip of my cock, slide it in a circle around her clit while Belle moans.

  I didn’t even bother to get undressed, so her wetness is on the fly of my pants because I’m still wearing them, and I slide my hand to her hip, my fingers sinking into her soft flesh while I trace the edges of her welts. Belle pants for breath, back arching, ass rising just a little more.

  I like this. I like being clothed while she’s naked, vulnerable and exposed to me. I like the things that she’ll let me do to her — no, the things that she wants me to do to her, the things she didn’t even know she wanted until I did them.

  And I like being in control, even though I’m shaking with the force of self-denial, of feeling her juices on my cock and pulling out again, letting myself savor this moment.

  “I need you to fuck me,” Belle breathes, and I can barely hear her but my cock twitches at the words. “Please, sir, I need you…”

  Her words end in a moan as I position myself at the entrance of her drooling pussy again, feel the shudder of expectation move through her perfect, slender body.

  This time I fuck her slow, letting my sweet little pet feel every wide inch of my thick cock, savoring every sensation of her taking me in, clenching and shivering and moaning, crying out when I hit exactly the right spot deep inside her.

  Because I like being in control. I like torturing her like this. I like almost giving her what she wants and making her beg me for more, and more than anything I like the slow, hard pleasure that I get from it, the near-orgasmic thrill of doing this to her.