Page 27 of His Princess Brat
“I’m not going to say you weren’t provoked, Princess,” he told the back of my head. “But your behavior downstairs was not appropriate or ladylike, and you are better than that.”
I had a split second to digest that, the calm of his voice, the mild rebuke that nevertheless cut past all my defenses and left me bare-bottomed, blushing, mortified, and... worse... in complete agreement with him.
That had not been, as he’d so calmly put it, well done of me.
His hand cracked down on my left and then right bottom cheeks so much harder and faster and aggressively worse than before, and that moment of insanity in which I’d found myself almost agreeing with him vanished beneath a tidal wave of self-preservation that made it impossible to hold still. I thrashed. I shouted, and whimpered, and I, Pita Okoro, Princess of Bahar, burst into tears while my bottom was spanked to a bright hot red over the knee of a man that, up until this moment, I’d been so sure I might like enough to actually marry.
He reduced me to sobs without another word beyond those his steadily scolding hand continued to deliver without further pause or mercy. I bawled. That wasn’t ladylike either, but he seemed to be blind to that. He broke me down to a point where I couldn’t even fight him anymore. I just lay over his thigh when he spanked and spanked, and finally, it was done.
“I hate you,” I brayed as he picked me up, pulling me into his arms to hold me, still bare-bottomed with my panties around my knees, sitting on the lap he’d just punished me across.
He kissed me on the forehead, the jackass, rocking me slightly back and forth while I sobbed. “If it’s any consolation, of all the people I’ve met here so far, apart from Mazi, Norah, and my godson, I find myself actually quite fond of you.”
He really was a jackass. I just wanted to hit him, but my bottom hurt too much to risk it.
He touched my face with the back of his finger, trying to get me to turn to him.
No, I was so over it. “Stop touching me,” I sniffled.
He cupped my chin, applying ever increasing pressure until I grudgingly gave up and glared at him. “You broke the pact, you paid the price. It’s over now.”
“Says you,” I retorted. “My butt feels scalded.”
When he chuckled, I glared. It was hard to do that with his finger rubbing up and down against my cheek. I looked at his lips, those smiling, handsome, sinfully delicious—
He kissed me. No matter how hard I tried to hold onto it, my irritation melted into the soft caress of his mouth teasing mine. My toes curled. They actually curled. All of me was curling, in fact. Curling and melting into him, my hands coming up to his face and shoulders, my lips parting to the tap of his tongue, requesting the kind of access my spinning head was only too happy to give him.
He was so gentle with me, at complete opposites with the harshness of the spanking that had left me burning and throbbing. The worst of which wasn’t even in my bottom anymore. By the time that gentle kiss ended and he raised his head far enough to gaze hungrily down at me, all that languid lustful heat had migrated between my legs. My pussy ached, I wanted him so much.
“Is this the start of another two minutes?” I asked, my voice so husky I hardly recognized it.
Dragging his gaze from my mouth to my eyes, he licked the taste of me off his lips and suddenly it was like a dam broke in his calm and in his restraint.
“I’m not counting,” he growled. He seized me, his hands grabbing hold of my ass, yanking me back up against him and into his kiss. This was hungry, plundering lovemaking. This was him taking me, lifting me clean up off his lap to lay me down beneath him on the couch, and I was not telling him no. That word was nowhere in my mind when his hands swept up under my dress, cupping the backs of my thighs, the burning of my ass, that heavy wanton aching heat in between that made my back arch and the rest of me sigh when he lay his hand over my sex. He cupped me as if he owned me.
“Azid...”
“What does my little princess want?” he seduced, nibbling his way to my ear. His fingers combed through my folds, opening me up to this most intimate of caresses.
I gasped again when he found the nub of my clit and circled it with fingers already slick from the pleasure he was drawing from me.
“Yeah, baby,” he cooed, his devilish touch wringing gasp after gasp from me. “Me too.”
I don’t know how my legs became parted, but I loved the feeling of him atop me and lying in between them. He plundered me with kisses, robbing me breathless before his lips again broke from mine and suddenly he was scooting down the length of me. He scooped my breasts out over the top of my dress to kiss, caress, and draw each peak in turn into the full heat of his mouth. He teased me breathless all over again, nipping until I moaned. He pinched and rolled, not hurting me in the slightest, but making me ache until I was mindless for more. And when I thought I could not bear another second, his mouth abandoned my breasts and down he went even further, spreading my legs wide so he could launch his hungry attack directly on my pussy.
My hips came all the way off the couch, bucking up into the lash of his clever tongue. I shouted and didn’t at all care who heard me. I’ve never been touched like this. I’ve never had my hips locked down, my clit suckled and tongued and suckled once again. He drank from me until my whole body rebelled, arching into the earth-shattering waves of an orgasm that started with his mouth and just went on and on, crashing through me. I shook until it hurt. I almost burst into tears again, though for the life of me, I don’t know why. This was sensation at its most exhilarating, even as it shattered me right there on his couch.
Rising up over me, Azid captured my lips with his once more. The taste of us together was intoxicating. I was so captivated by it, by him, that I barely noticed anything else. Not until I felt the unexpected brush of something both warm and hard bump and slide up along the inner slope of my thigh as he pushed his pants down and out of the way.
I wasn’t completely innocent; no one who’d spent as much time around horses as I did could go through a mating season and not know about sex. I’d not only seen stallions mounting mares before, I’d actively supervised Adofo in all five of his previous stud services. The sight of Azid’s fully erect cock was at once... well, okay, nowhere near as impressive as a horse’s, but it was certainly the biggest thing I’d ever seen between my legs.
Catching me behind my knees, he bent them up until my thighs were practically on my chest and the heady length of his cock was sliding along the glistening wet slit of my pussy. Back and forth, he moved in slow thrusts that slid the textured head and length of him all over my clit. With each new pump of his hips, he banished all my half-thought reservations before I could fully gather them.
Unable to do anything but feel, I turned my face away, biting my own finger to keep back my moan, my hips bucking upward when he changed the angle of his thrust and the head of him nudged right into me.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, sinking in just far enough for me to feel the head of him stretching me open.
I covered my mouth, embarrassed by how low and guttural my moans had become.
