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It made me feel small that I was naked and he was fully dressed. But in the most delicious way.
I swallowed, my lips parting.
He rose and moved to the wall to my right. There was a panel with a knob, which he turned, flipping it to reveal a full-length mirror.
“What is that for?” I asked hoarsely.
He began untying me. “It’s for the Welsh Princess to watch herself get fucked like a whore.”
Oh.
My stomach clenched as he pulled me upright, my thighs shaking. He turned me around and pressed me to my hands and knees. My necklace unstuck from my damp chest and hung between my breasts. My mascara had melted beneath my eyes.
It was intimidating to see him, kneeling behind me fully dressed.
“Do princesses get fucked like whores?” I whispered.
His eyes contacted mine. Dark and dangerous. He reached between us and I heard the hiss of his zipper.
“Yes,” he said firmly. “Princesses get spoiled until they’re soaking wet and then they get fucked to sleep. How does that sound, cariad?”
He pushed down the front of his pants, unleashing his cock. It hit against my wet entrance and a jolt of arousal tore through me.
“Good,” I gasped.
I was soaked, but I was also so tight with arousal that when he sank into me I cried out. Not from pain, just from the intensity of it. He didn’t stop, he just pushed in until he was seated with his groin pressed against my ass.
Sweat slid down his throat. Soaking his open collar.
His eyes never left mine.
“Can you take it?” he asked.
I nodded hard. The last thing I wanted was for him to stop. My inner muscles were dying for him to move, begging to feel the power of his hips drive his cock into my body.
His palm slid around to my lower belly and up between my breasts. Bending me up, lifting me onto my knees. Keeping us locked together as he pulled me against his chest. His hips drew back and slammed in, sending shockwaves through my core. I whimpered, screwing my eyes shut.
His mouth was inches from my ear.
“Watch,” he ordered softly.
I obeyed, gaze falling on our bodies in the mirror. My stomach and breasts were slick with sweat and I was pressed to the front of his shirt and pants. Part of me wished he was naked and the other part loved that he was still fully dressed.
His hips pumped and his other hand came up and slid into my hair, making a fist and keeping my head in place.
“Look,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Look at that fucking beautiful woman on my cock.”
I whimpered.
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”
“Yours, daddy,” I whispered daringly.
His jaw tensed and he groaned deep in his throat. “Are you going to let daddy fuck you the way he wants, princess?”
I nodded frantically, eyes wide, my lower lip pinned so hard under my teeth it ached. I didn’t have time to speak because he was fucking me hard and fast. I’d heard the term ‘getting railed’ before, but I hadn’t experienced it firsthand until right now.
And I loved it.
