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“You’ll learn the proper way to speak to me,” he growls, laying his palm across my ass once more.
Yes. My yelps turn to moans and my back arches as I push my ass toward him. Dirty, dirty, dirty. I don’t even care. My pants are locking my thighs together and the Prince is spanking me like I’ve been bad, and oh, it feels good. Pleasure rips through my core as his hand slides over my stinging skin, softly, softly.
When I glance over my shoulder, Wolfe meets my gaze with a wicked grin on his lips. Sliding his hands between my legs, he lets out a soft groan. “You’re wet.”
I mumble something unintelligible in response. His hand is warm as it slides through my slick folds, teasing every sensitive inch of flesh. As I lie on my stomach, arching my back toward him, my cheeks burn.
This isn’t what I expected to happen when we came here, but I don’t want it to stop. The Prince teases my opening, sliding a finger inside me as I moan.
He feels good. His other hand slides over my bare skin, caressing the red imprints left by his hand. Teasing the edges of my lower lips. Spreading me wider and sending more fire racing through my veins.
When he slides his finger out of me, I let out a whine. He chuckles, tugging my pants all the way down my legs.
“Turn around,” he commands.
I comply. Lying on my back, I watch him kneel between my legs, his eyes hanging low as I wiggle toward him. I reach for his waistband, but he catches my hand.
“Stay there,” he says. Gruff. Commanding. He takes my wrist, pinning it above my head. With his other hand, he skates his palm over my stomach and tugs my shirt up and off. He unclasps my bra and tosses it aside, feasting his eyes on my naked body.
I love the way he looks at me. How he licks his lips and lets out a soft growl. How his fingers leave the barest whisper of a touch over my sensitive skin, teasing the edge of my breast, circling my nipples, drifting all the way down to my heated core.
“You have a beautiful body,” the Prince says. He grips my thighs with his hands, pushing them wider. He lets out a soft groan as he stares at me, completely open for him.
“Touch yourself.” His voice is low and confident, leaving no room for hesitation.
Am I weak for wanting to listen? Is it wrong that I want to watch his face as I touch myself? I want to do whatever he tells me.
I let my hand drift down my abdomen, pausing just above my mound. The Prince inhales sharply as my fingertips tease my slit, barely brushing the edge of my clit. I tremble.
This feels different with him watching. It’s not like touching myself, alone under the covers. It’s not like squeezing my eyes shut with a vibrator between my legs.
This is something more.
I bite my lip as my fingers circle my clit, the Prince’s palms making slow circles over my thighs. “That’s it,” he says softly, urging me on. “Show me what you like.”
It should feel wrong to be spread wide like this. To be displaying something so personal. To be opened up for him to see everything—but it doesn’t feel wrong at all. It feels so right and so fucking hot.
I play with my clit a bit faster as the Prince strokes my thighs. My eyes drift over every muscular plane of his stomach, chest, shoulders, but they linger on his face. The openness. The pure pleasure of seeing me touch myself.
Has a man ever looked at me like that before? Like watching me pleasure myself is the most sacred thing he’s ever seen?
As my fingers move faster over my sensitive bud, the Prince slides his hand down my thigh. His thumb brushes my folds ever so softly. I buck toward him, breath trembling. Everything is sensitive. Everything heightened. I can feel the fabric of the duvet against the skin on my ass, still red from my spanking. I can feel his palms. Fingers. His breath. His heartbeat.
“Don’t stop touching yourself,” he growls, moving his fingers toward my opening. “Do you hear me?” His eyes flick to mine.
I nod. “Yes.”
“Don’t stop until you come on my hand.”
I suck in a breath, holding his gaze. As the Prince sinks his finger inside me, a moan falls from my lips. I grind against his touch, needing more.
And he gives it to me. Another finger. A third. Leaning forward, he works his hand between my legs as I pleasure myself. Heat winds tight around my core, pressure mounting with every thrust of his fingers. Wow, that feels good. I close my eyes when I feel his lips on my breast, sucking and nipping and teasing it as his hand works magic between my legs.
“Come on my hand, Rowan,” the Prince says, his lips brushing against my pebbled nipple. He lays a soft kiss on it, driving his fingers deeper. “Give it to me, princess.”
The Prince’s teeth scrape across my nipple as his fingers drive in and out of me. My own fingers tremble as they dance over my clit, the heat in my core mounting and mounting and mounting and—
Ohmygodyes.
