Page 13 of The Princess Tied

Oh. She froze and found herself staring back, and that horribly familiar heat rose in her, spreading until she was sure her entire skin had flushed red.

John slid away his hand. “Well, well,” he said softly. “That worked.”

Then he leaned in even further and placed his mouth close to hers, their lips merely brushing.

She shut her eyes. It was too much. Him so close, her body doing things it should not. To say he would fuck her was atrociously rude, and yet, here she was almost wishing for it to happen.

“What do you say to that?”

She snapped open her eyes at the subtle movement of his lips on hers.

“You’re a bad man,” she managed, after a syrup-thick moment where even thoughts refused to do her bidding.

“I am.” He nodded slightly and again his lips moved on hers.

Swallowing, she parted her lips. Involuntary, she told herself.

That was not me.

He pressed no harder, but he breathed on her, and the heat of his body transferred to hers in some strange magic… or merely the conduction of heat through air. He kept watching her, as if fascinated.

Go away, she willed him, silently. Po was appalled by her desires. The mounting ache between her legs urged her to thrust herself forward and squirm against him.

His tongue tip moved, pushed ever so slowly at her parted mouth and she opened some more, almost moaning. Well, she may have moaned a teensy bit, but hopefully it was inaudible.

His tongue stayed there, barely inside her, and she had to make herself not respond. Though below was being disobedient.

“What a good princess you are.”

Then he kissed her, softly, quietly, with no fanfare, and pulled away, leaving her wondering if she would slip to the rocky floor if her hands weren’t fastened above.

“See how easy that was. Was I not kind?”

“You are an asshole,” she muttered, struggling to breathe without looking like she’d been running, or… molested.

John chuckled. “Thank you for the excuse.”

He spun her and tied her hands at her back, using rope, cinched it tight enough that she knew she wouldn’t get free.

Now that was interesting. As in the forest, it shut down her willingness to do anything except be handled. He sat her in the middle of the pool and soaped her, all over, in places she was sure his hands should not go, even if he was doing this quickly. While she was shivering from that, he dipped her backward into the frigid water, making her scream.

His laughter was intolerable, and she spluttered at him.

Being hauled up the slope to the horses then dried with a blanket that smelled of horse, being made to kneel on the picnic rug that remained where they’d eaten—it all went by quickly, and he was matter-of-fact about what he did. It almost made her forget she was naked.

Almost, at least, until he squatted in front of her with her fresh clothes before him.

“Well, mermaid.” John tapped the bundle of clothes. “Girl who has barely escaped being spanked.” He frowned and rubbed his chin, as if unsure of what he’d uttered.

“Spanked! Do not dare to touch me! Not all nobles are noble? You, sir, are a disgrace to your lineage, your parents—”

“Shut up.” He removed his spectacles, letting her see the flames. “Was that a mistake? Not spanking you?”

Her throat dried up. “No,” she choked out.

“I disagree. Never insult me and my parents in one sentence, again.”

Had she done that? She wasn’t sure.