The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(24)



“Crawl to me.”

My coolness wavers for a split second, but hopefully not long enough for him to notice. He is simply trying to get a rise out of me. He wants the princess to object, to tell him she is better than crawling to a man on demand. Maybe she is. Yet she has an overwhelming craving to give Josh Jameson exactly what he wants, and he wants the princess to crawl to him. So I do. Slowly. Relishing in the sight of something growing beyond the fly of his jeans, and in the satisfaction on his face.

“Does this turn you on, sir?” I purr, steadily placing one palm in front of the other, leisurely making my way to him.

“You have no fuckin’ idea.” He crouches as I approach and takes my chin, holding me in place firmly as he pushes his lips to mine. “You are one sexy fuckin’ woman, Adeline Lockhart.”

I smile around his lips, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “I was beginning to think you were immune to my spell.”

He laughs a little, breaking the contact of our mouths, and he stares so deeply into my eyes, I’m sure he sees right through my false bravado. “I wish I was immune to your spell, ’cause I have a feeling you’re gonna curse me for life, woman.” One more hard kiss before he grabs me and hauls me up, directing my thighs around his waist. I grip him tightly and smash my mouth to his, feeling power surge into me. I’ve got him. Hook, line, and sinker, I’ve got him.

But then he tosses me on my bed, and before I can gather my bearings, he’s flipped me onto my front and trapped me on the mattress with his hard physique. “Remember this?” he asks, dropping something to the pillow beside my head. The pink handkerchief he gagged me with yesterday is in my line of sight, laughing at me.

“Fuck,” I exhale, feeling Josh’s hands move to my wrists and take a secure hold.

“Say that again.” He bites my earlobe, and I buck beneath him. “Say it.”

“Fuck,” I yell.

He stuffs the handkerchief into my mouth and flips me over, getting his face up close to mine. “Pink hanky has a friend.” Josh pulls his belt from his jeans and wraps it around his fist. “I’m thinking helpless will suit you well.”

I shake my head and Josh nods his, taking the black leather to my wrists and expertly wrapping it around before using the buckle to secure the ends. I jiggle my arms out of instinct. He did that far too swiftly and coolly to be a first time. I am his toy for tonight and tonight only. He’s had plenty more before me, of course he has, and there will plenty more to come.

“Now,” he muses, skating his gleaming blues down my naked form. “What am I going to do with you?” Reaching for my nipple, he tweaks it viciously, making me jerk under his harsh touch on a muffled yelp. He cocks his head, enjoying the fact that I am at his mercy. And, Lord, give me strength, so am I. My body is singing with need, every inch of my skin flaming under the power of his stare. “I think I’ll fuck you.” He walks his fingers across my stomach, down to the narrow strip of hair marking my entrance. I stiffen, working to breathe through my nose as best I can. “With my fingers first.” Brushing over my pulsing lips, he toys with me teasingly, and I whimper my despair, closing my eyes in search of some strength to carry me through. “And then with my cock.”

I groan, tossing my head from side to side as he plunges a finger inside of me. Everything in me constricts, gripping him harshly. I am so turned on. More turned on than I have ever been, my heart thumping with want, my body blazing with need. I have never felt so utterly consumed by a man, and I am certain it is doing me no favors in the long-term. Though the long-term is hard to think about in this moment, when I am being lavished and worshipped by this American god.

My useless wrists wriggle within the leather bounds, burning my flesh, the licks of pain delicious on my skin. Suddenly, my jaw is grabbed, and my eyes fly open, finding his face close as he slowly, so painfully slowly, pulls his finger free from inside me. Staring at me with too much satisfaction, he re-enters me with force, pushing me up the bed. I cry out, the sound muffled. Oh God, my blood is on fire as it races through my veins with only one end point possible. I can’t scream, can’t grab him. Josh’s constant smirk tells me he likes that. I try to close my legs to stem the intense beat in my clit and get nowhere, his knee forcing them apart again, his eyebrow hitching in warning. “What is it, Your Highness?” he whispers, low and smooth, doing nothing to cool down the burn in my body. “Feeling helpless?” Releasing my jaw, he pulls free of my dripping channel and grabs both of my wrists, yanking them up to the bedframe. I moan, unsure if it’s in protest or excitement, when he unbuckles the belt and refastens it around one of the gold posts, leaving my arms restrained above my head. Oh, the irony. A royal princess sleeps in this bed, the most famous princess in the world.

And now she is tied to it.

Helpless.

But loving it.

Sitting up, Josh straddles my stomach, placing his palms over my aching, heavy breasts. I breathe in as he molds, squeezes, and pinches my nipples, before lowering his mouth and licking across one of the bullets, sending a sharp flash of pleasure straight down between my thighs. My eyes roll, my face trying to hide in the crook of my extended arm. Jesus, his tongue, his mouth … his potency. He makes a feast of me, dividing his attention between my boobs equally, playing and fondling, licking and biting. I am out of my mind with want, moaning with every flash of pain, every part of me vibrating. “That good?” he asks, sucking my flesh into his mouth and rolling his tongue. My groans are broken, and then I jolt upward when he sinks his teeth in, clamping down hard and pulling until my nipple pops free. Fuck! I curse like a sailor in my head but breathe through the stab of pain. His laughing eyes both anger and delight me. “Time for me to get naked,” he declares, taking the hem of his T-shirt. “You ready?” I don’t know. Am I ready? Josh pulls the black material over his head, and the sight of his cut torso blurs my vision, every perfect bit of it calling for me to caress it, kiss it, lick it.

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