Page 70 of Princess Claimed

Lifting my ass to strip off my jeans, I toss them across the room. “Are you sure you want me sitting? Can’t get much leverage backed up against the wall.”

“You won’t need leverage.” She strips off her flimsy dress and leaps onto the end of the bed. “Not for what I have in mind.” One leg on either side of my extended ones, she sashays toward me.

When she gets close enough, I slide my hands over her hips.

“Keep your hands down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” My cock twitches, and I grin.

Ana’s so close I can taste her, especially when she leans forward, fiddling with something on the wall above me.

“Give me your hand.”

I comply, lifting my arm above my head. Her fingers grip my upper arm, repositioning it, and the feel of her skin on mine sets off more fireworks.

Something snaps around my wrist. Tugging slightly, I look into her eyes.

“Handcuffs.” She grins. “I’m sure you can break them, but I’d prefer if you didn’t.” Her teeth graze her lower lip in that way I love. “Not yet anyway.”

“You’re the boss,” I say, and then chuckle.

She nods toward my left arm.

I lift it up too, and she snaps that wrist into a matching cuff.

Taking her time, she slides her hands over my palms, my fingers, the backs of my hands, and then she kisses the inside of each wrist, just below where the cuffs are holding me, lightly licking the thin skin there and drawing my blood to the surface.

I shudder with pleasure. “Holy shit.”

“I’m going to make a map of you,” she says. “Tonight, I’m an explorer, making new discoveries, documenting every part of your body and learning which ones yield the most pleasure.”

“Who’s this map for?” I laugh.

“For me.” Her tone turns serious. Bending over, she looks directly into my eyes. “This map is for me. Only for me. Understand?”

I nod. My cock sure understands her subtext. Ana is claiming me. If anyone else touches me she’ll kill them. And I love it.

Over the years, I’ve had females fight over whose hole I fuck next, but even if that gave me a tinge of pride, it didn’t feel anything like this. Because Ana’s possessiveness isn’t about my oversized cock. It’s about me. About all of me. My deep flaws. My anger. The horrible things that I’ve done. Ana sees it all and still wants to claim me.

She continues to explore my right arm with her hands, touching, stroking, tracing some places with her tongue and kissing others, and every moment of her inspection delivers new erotic pleasures. For me, sex has always been about relieving tension, about providing something my body needed, about the fuck itself.

Sensual pleasures aren’t something I thought I’d ever experience, never mind want or enjoy. And while my enjoyment is beyond belief, my tension is rising to astronomical levels. Pounding so hard it’s like machine guns are firing inside my balls and my cock.

Her tongue traces my bicep, glides through the ridge separating my arm from my shoulder, and then it strokes over the mound of muscle that rises toward my throat. My hips buck up, my cock trying to reach her sweetness, still straddling my thighs.

“Fuck, Ana.” I look into her eyes. She’s turned on too. “I need to be inside you. Now.”

Her finger drops to my lips. “Not a chance. I’ve barely mapped out one arm.”

I groan. The mixture of anticipation and frustration makes me even harder, even more desperate to have her. Bending my legs to brace my feet, I push up my hips. My body lifts her off the bed.

She laughs, clearly enjoying the surprise ride, and so I bounce her, hoping one of the times she lands it will be straight onto my dick.

“Hips down,” she says sternly.

I do it. I’ll do anything Ana asks.

“Seems I have to deal with those legs.” She turns, and I get a full view of her ass.

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