The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales(33)

No. This was domination. This was taking. Conquering. This was raw, primal behavior by a man unaccustomed to the formal, gentilities of high society. The stable master. A servant.

“This has gone too far. Untie me,” ordered Beatrice, unable to hide the note of panic in her voice.

“No.”

“You are my subordinate. You are not permitted to say no to me.”

“By the time the night is through, you will be the one subservient to me.”

Pulling at her tight binds, Beatrice’s chest rose in anger. The movement only pushing her soft round curves and hardened nipples more prominently into view. “How dare you?” she spat out.

Rhys placed one hand at her side as he edged himself onto the bed, slowly prowling till he straddled her hips.

Pinning her under its weight. Just like in her dream. The beast claiming what was his.

Digging his fingers into her thick curls, he forced her head up. With his free hand, he fisted the heavy weight of his cock.

“Look at me,” he once more commanded, this time more fiercely.

Beatrice looked down at the shaft in his hand. Even in his large hand it looked substantial…long, hard and thick. The bulbous tip alone looked to almost be the size of her closed fist. Living on a country estate, Beatrice was no stranger to the natural ways. There was absolutely no imagining which would fit that…that…member…inside her body. This was just further proof why the upper class did not mix with the lower. They were incompatible in every way imaginable.

Gripping it tighter, Rhys moved his hand up and down the shaft, to give him some ease. Beatrice watched in horrified fascination as the skin turned a purplish crimson.

It was a beast! He was a beast. She must escape.

With renewed vigor, Beatrice pulled at her binds.

Rhys shifted forward. Placing his thighs along her ribcage, he squeezed them, pressing against her sides. Leaning up on his knees, he placed the tip of his cock within a breath of her lips.

“Open your mouth.”

Beatrice stubbornly thinned her lips tightly closed. A look of defiance flashed in her golden eyes.

Rhys had been thinking of feeling her tight wet mouth enclosed on his cock from the very first moment she opened it to insult him. He would not be deterred.

“Open your mouth, or I will force it open.”

Beatrice kept her mouth closed. How could he possibly force it op…

Without taking his intent gaze off her, Rhys reached back and spanked her still swollen cunny.

Beatrice cried out in surprised pain.

Rhys shifted his hips forward, placing the head of his cock between her lips.

Beatrice opened her mouth wider, preparing to use her teeth.

“Bite me and I will turn you over and whip your backside with a leather strap till you beg for mercy,” he warned ominously.

Beatrice’s eyes grew wide at the threat.

“Swirl your tongue around the head. Taste me.”

Beatrice had no choice but to obey. Tentatively, brushing the tip of her tongue against his flesh. She was surprised by the salty, musk taste. Earthy. Male. Him.

Using his grip on her hair, Rhys pushed her head forward, forcing her to swallow more of his cock.

Beatrice choked. The bottom tip of her tongue scraped against her teeth as his shaft pressed deeper into her mouth. The largely rounded head, striking the back of her throat. It was too much. Her lips felt stretched and pulled. She could taste the metallic sting of blood from where her tongue pressed against her own teeth. Her breath became labored. Tears sprung to her eyes from the sharp pull on her hair as she tried to pull away.

Rhys pulled his cock free from her lips.

“Stop fighting me. The more you fight the rougher I will get,” he growled. If she were going to be his wife, he would have to show her who was master now. There was no point in pretending she could pull her usual temper tantrum games in their bed.

Gripping his cock, Rhys tapped the head against her stubbornly closed lips. “Open.”

Beatrice glared at him with narrowed eyes.

“Open.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow as he raised his hand shifting his shoulder back, ready to strike her already pained cunny.

With a sob, Beatrice dropped her sign of defiance and opened her mouth…slightly.

Rhys grinned. Feisty till the end. Good.

Raising up on his knees, he straddled her narrow shoulders with one strong hand gripping the headboard for leverage. Leaning over her, he saw real fear flash in her eyes before guiding his cock past her lips.

He was going to force her to take every, long hard inch. Pushing his hips forward, he watched in fascination as his thick shaft painfully widened her lips. Her muffled cries did nothing to deter him. He pushed onward. Feeling the edge of her teeth on the soft underside of his cock. Her tongue as it hopelessly tried to dislodge him. The squeeze of her cheeks as she fought for breath.

Rhys pressed further. Feeling her throat tighten and contract around the head. Each cough. Each gag. Sent a ripple of sensation up his shaft. Taking pity on her, he pulled back slightly, allowing Beatrice a few hurried gulps of air before continuing his assault.

Beatrice’s eyes were tightly closed as she tried to endure. She couldn’t breathe. His shaft filled her mouth and throat. Her jaw ached. She was surrounded by the feel, sound and scent of him. It was all him. Nothing but him.

Never in her life had she been so taken over by another. Her mind and body were not her own. They were his to command.