Page 74 of American Queen (New Camelot Trilogy 1)
He silences me with one lick. One brush of his tongue against my darkest secret. The sensation is like nothing I’ve ever felt, too shallow, too slick, too dirty, too everything, and I squirm frantically away from him. A hundred what ifs run through my mind, only to be chased away by a fingertip and Ash’s stern voice.
“This is mine, little princess. My hole. Yes?”
The fingertip is probing. Pushing. Gradually and almost lazily breaching my most elemental barrier.
His other hand comes up to slap my ass, right on top of the spots still raw from the spanking. My leg kicks up and he impatiently pushes it back down. “I asked you a question. Is this mine?”
Oh, the invasion. How small it must look and yet how big it feels. “Yes, Sir,” I answer, my voice cracking on the last word.
“That’s right,” he says arrogantly. “This one and this one” —a finger enters my pussy — “and your mouth. Every hole belongs me, doesn’t it?”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
The finger finally tunnels past the first ring of muscle, sinking up to a knuckle. I sputter and pant and kick my legs, and all I get for my pains are more spanks.
“And this ass—this is mine to bite or to spank. And the hole there, that’s mine to lick. Mine to play with. Mine to fuck. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s right,” I gasp.
“Mine to show off, mine to display. I could order you to display yourself in the middle of the Oval Office, to pull down whatever pretty pencil skirt you’re wearing and have you bend over for inspection, like a prize animal at a show. Would you like that?”
The thought is so degrading, so awful, that of course it triggers a wave of submissive lust.
“You don’t have to answer, Greer. Your pussy just answered for me.”
I press my face into the bed, humiliated, shaking, on the precipice of orgasm. The finger leaves, replaced by his tongue again, but this time he doesn’t stop at licking. This time he pushes the tip of his tongue into the pleated rosebud, sending a frisson of filthy electricity straight to my clit.
The pleasure is undeniable and immediate, but so is the shame, the reflexive resistance. My hands fly back instinctively to push him away, my legs trying to close, and that earns me an angry growl. Ash wrestles my wrists away from myself and kicks my legs back open with a grunt.
“I could fuck you like this,” he hisses. “Holding you down. Is that what you want?”
My answering moan fills the room.
His arm wraps around my waist like an iron bar and then I’m lifted bodily from my feet and tossed onto the bed, as if I weighed nothing more than a sack of flour. “On your stomach. Show me your face.”
Moving my limbs takes a strange kind of effort, as if the leashed-up orgasm inside my body is weighing me down, but I manage, and there’s a moment of unfiltered tenderness when I feel Ash’s fingers gently brushing my hair away from my forehead, sweeping it over my head so it won’t tickle my face. He drops a light kiss onto my jaw. “Doing okay?”
“I’d do better if you’d fuck me.”
He laughs. “I love it when you get desperate. What’s your safe word?”
“Maxen.”
“Keep it close at hand. We’re going to try something new.”
He straightens up, and from my vantage, I see his strong and certain fingers as they work his belt open and slide it from the loops. I swallow as I watch him double up the belt and run it through his palm.
My mouth parts, protests rise to my lips. I’ve never been belted before, never had anything more intense than a hairbrush, but before I can run through my options, before I can rationalize this or ask him to stop or to pause, he lets fly with the belt and a leather stripe of pain hits my upper thighs.
It’s agony. It’s unbearable. The breath leaves my body as I arch backwards and my mind goes blank. There’s nothing but pain, nothing but the sparking static of it, and when I finally draw in a breath, it comes in and back out as a choked sob.
Maxen.
For the first time ever, my safe word is there on my tongue, ready to be spoken.
“Too much?” He asks right as a shot of endorphins hits my bloodstream, right as a pulse of swollen arousal hits my cunt.
“Don’t you dare stop.”
