Page 71 of Princess Claimed

I lick my lips, unable to stop myself. I want to suck on, to devour every part of her.

Moving down the bed, she finds fur covered cuffs that seem to be attached to cables. Quickly figuring out how they work, she puts one around each of my ankles, and then tightens the cables to a point where my legs are apart on the bed, but not uncomfortably stretched.

Once she’s done, I test their hold. I can’t move my legs. Not without using enough force to break the cables or pull them out of whatever’s securing them.

I have no real knowledge of this room or its contraptions. I’m not big on purpose-built sex rooms—happy to bend a woman over whatever’s around. But since Delirium is a vampires-only club, I expect it would take a great deal of force to free myself from these bindings.

But why would I try? I’m Ana’s captive, and there is no other place I’d rather be.

She explores my other arm the same way she did the first, and I watch her, my eyes losing focus as my pleasure and need rise in tandem. I breathe deeply, trying to keep from exploding before she even gets to my cock.

Her travels move to my throat, to my face, to my chest, and each new place awakens higher levels of pleasure inside me. By the time this is over—if it ever ends—Ana will intimately know my body and understand its reactions far better than I ever could myself.

I suppose that’s fitting, given how she’s exposed and seen all my deep emotions and dark thoughts.

Her fingers trace circles over my delts, the spirals getting smaller and smaller as she focuses in on her targets. As she gets closer, my nipples grow painfully hard, and my cock rages even more desperately. Then she flicks my stiff nipples.

“Holy shit, Ana.”

She looks into my eyes, revealing alarm in hers. “Did that hurt?”

I chuckle. “Not exactly, but…”

“But what?” Her fingers continue to tease my nipples, making it difficult for me to talk.

“I think you’ve discovered a direct line from my chest to my rocks.”

She smiles, her eyes lighting up like stars. “I’ve got a line like that too. But mine’s to my clitoris.”

My hands tug at my bindings, suddenly desperate to be touching her there. But she returns to her explorations, and I sigh deeply, resolving to enjoy this. Even better things will come to those who wait.

But waiting is fucking hard. Especially now that her tongue is circling my belly button, and her hair keeps brushing my cock. I test my movements again. If I slide my ass away from the wall, maybe I can bend my knees and lift my hips.

She backs away from me, shaking her head and trying to look stern through a grin. “No moving. Not until I’m done.”

Her expression shifts and she pulls something out of the wall that’s close to my hip. “Move your ass against the headboard,” she says firmly. “Straighten your legs.”

I do as she asks.

Careful to avoid my cock, she straps a fur-covered seatbelt of sorts over my hips, tightening it until I can no longer slide forward from the headboard. I am fully, completely under her control now—as if I weren’t already.

After thoroughly exploring my chest and then tracing my abs with her tongue—fucking spectacular—her travels finally move lower.

Will she touch my cock first with her fingers, or with her lips? Will she stroke it? Will she lick it? Will she pull it into her mouth?

My cock pounds. I’ve seen males fucking mouths, but not only was that on our list of forbidden acts, it never held much appeal. Frankly, until Ana, the only taboo I’d ever broken was clit abuse. I loved the control that act gave me, and the way it made female’s holes tighten around my cock. I liked the way it made women scream in pleasure, then fight, begging me to stop, and then pleading for me to start again once I did.

Before Ana, I never even considered any sex acts beyond fucking and nub-rubbing.

Ana shifts close to my cock. She’s so close her sweet breath bathes my sensitive skin there, and my body tenses as I fight against shooting my seed.

But she passes by my stiff rod, moving down to one of my feet.

I groan.

She looks up into my eyes, her expression full of mischief and lust. “Patience is a virtue.”

I laugh. “Nothing virtuous about any of this.”