The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(28)

My flinch is mild. “No.”

“Good. As long as you know where you stand.”

“I’m not standing,” I retort, unable to stop the words before they fall from my mouth.

“One,” he shouts as I’m thrashed with the belt, my backside bursting into raging flames. But just as quickly, the tip of his finger draws a line up my center, transforming that pain into pleasure of the most desperate kind.

“Too hard?”

I bite down on my lip, taking oxygen into my lungs, breathing through the pain. “Not enough.”

I can almost hear his smile. And a second later, another thrash of the belt. “Two.”

I pant, squeezing my eyes closed as his whole palm strokes at my entrance.

“Fuck me, Adeline. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a superb vision. You, restrained, a crown upon your head, and your ass glowing.”

I can only imagine what I must look like. The Princess of England on her knees, bound by leather, being whipped by leather, a priceless family heirloom perched on her head, with a famous Hollywood actor delivering the blows. It’s a mind-bender, for sure. But good God, I feel too uninhibited to devote any time to examining it further than that. He is a hedonistic man. I am a willing woman. That is it.

I space out, struggling to keep my head up with the weight of the tiara weighing it down, my palms sweating and slipping around the gold bar that I’m clinging to, causing me to slip a few times, the bonds cutting into my skin. Yet the pain is only a blip on the pleasure sweeping through me, Josh’s fingers tickling the edges of my dripping pussy, teasing me, torturing me. I vaguely hear him count through five lashes, three to my arse, and then one to the top of each thigh. They sting terribly—my flesh throbbing—but it doesn’t even dent the passion surging through my veins. I am on the brink.

I hear the ripping of a foil packet, and then a firm hand on my waist holds me in place as he walks on his knees toward my waiting arse, the head of his cock sliding straight past my lips and hitting me deep. “Have mercy,” Josh chokes, stilling, sending me dizzy with the depth he has achieved from one perfect stroke. I pant, fighting for air, my mind twisting. He reaches for my hair and yanks back, eliciting a small cry from me. “Ready to let go?”

“Ready,” I confirm, desperate to let go. Or let go even more. I’m already in a sex-induced daze. It’s laughable really, because we haven’t even had sex yet.

“God, I’m so ready.” He withdraws and pounds forward brutally, and the pace is set from there. Fast. Hard. No mercy, no holding back. Our bodies slap together as loudly as the leather did, the force of his body smashing into mine making me unstable on my knees. I lose my grip of the bar, forcing Josh to release my hair and manipulate my hands back into place. “You tell me if it’s too much.”

“No.” I accept his ruthless pounding, silently begging him for more.

Because with each violent drive, I’m being taken further and further away from my reality.

My stomach begins to furl, my mind spinning faster, the blood racing quicker. “Josh,” I breathe, warning him.

“Not yet, baby,” he spits urgently. “Don’t you dare let go yet.”

I groan, tinkering on the edge of explosion, losing my fight. “Josh, I can’t hold it.”

His strokes become more measured, more timed and accurate. “There’s no such thing as can’t.” He slaps my sore arse, but it doesn’t serve as a warning; it is more of a trigger, making my mission to cling to my release harder. And I think the bastard knows that. “Hold it,” he growls, squeezing my breast.

“You are not helping.”

“No?” He pinches my nipple, sending a shot of pain straight to my pussy, the sensation mixing with the unrelenting burn.

“Oh God!”

“Hold it.”

“Josh!”

“Don’t disappoint me, Adeline.” He rams into me, grunting with every hit. “You can do it.”

I zone out, closing my eyes and breathing through the torture. Because—and it is a revelation—I don’t want to disappoint him. His strokes are beautifully consistent now, albeit still brutal. I feel completely out of my body, entirely at his mercy, and my challenge has lessened under his expectation. Then I hear the words, “Let go, baby,” and I tumble, spiraling into my release on his command, my skin tingling fiercely as my inner walls are massaged through my climax by Josh’s throbbing cock.

He moans, his pace reducing until his movements stop and he’s held within my warmth, our heaving bodies rolling as we both gasp for air. I would collapse if it wasn’t for the belt and Josh holding me in place.

I feel his hands move to mine, unfastening the buckle quickly until my wrists slide free. I don’t have the chance to fall to the mattress. Josh catches me and turns me in his arms, bringing me to my back and our sweaty chests together. My arms are stiff, my wrists sore, and my arse burning. But none of it takes away from the serenity I feel in this moment.

“Thanks for playing,” he mumbles against my wet cheek, biting it. I feel him smile around his mouthful of my flesh.

“Have you not marked me enough without putting teeth marks in my face, too?”

“Be quiet and give me a hug.”

I laugh, utterly amused. “You have thrashed me to within an inch of my life, and now you want a hug for it?”