He pushed her onto her belly. “The next time I do this, you’ll be spanked first.”
Her nerves pulsated at the idea of him spanking her, then fucking her poor red bottom. It would thrill him, and she could understand how it might excite him.
He chuckled softly as he pried apart her ass cheeks. “I can tell you liked the sound of that!”
No, surely not.
She propped herself up on her elbows and peered down her cleavage. The tattoos had betrayed her. Each concentric pattern around her breasts was pulsing in time with her heartbeats.
The ink has to be wrong!
The cool oil trickled along the parting. She flinched as he drew it around in circles. Gradually, the oil warmed her anus. Galen began to probe her with his fingertip.
She squirmed. With his other hand, he reentered her pussy and slid his finger in and out. Not one, but two digits. All the time he toyed and teased her tight little hole, stretching it open and allowing the oil to enter.
“Keep still.” He slapped an ass cheek. The sting of his rebuke was minor, but effective. She buried her face in her hands and held still.
“There,” he soothed as he massaged her insides. “Such a good girl.”
He kissed her back, grazing his chin along her shoulder blades. Each peck of his lips was following some trail—the lines of her tattoos. He stopped and his fingers slipped out.
“Bring your knees up and stick your bottom higher.”
It wasn’t easy, but she did it. She obeyed him. He supported her by holding her waist with a firm grip. Then, she felt it—the rounded end of his cock. It nudged where a few seconds ago his finger had gone.
“Relax, Zara. Open up. You want this. I know you do.”
She panted, desperately trying to tame her breathing. He began to rock, gently leaning in, then back. Each time he leaned in a little harder.
She dug deep, remembering why she was here. This was instead of the humiliating whipping, the public condemnation that the whole globe would have witnessed. This was the better choice, the wiser one. And also, she had to accept this was just the beginning. Whatever else he had planned for her would be more degrading, more challenging. She was to be punished for the pleasure of one man, as Astra had been and if a princess could submit, then so could Zara.
She pushed against his downward thrust and the combined impact forced his cock inside her bottom. She cried out and grabbed a fistful of bedding in each hand.
He didn’t withdraw; instead, he eased down, stretching her tight coils. The sensation of fullness grew, the resistance lessened. The worst of the burning seemed to be over. What she had to do was keep breathing and not panic.
Galen moaned. A delightful gasp of pleasure. With his cock halfway in, he stirred, a gentle dip without the full withdrawal. He teased her, rather than fucked her. While she muttered nonsense into the bed, unable to articulate anything sensible, he spoke softly.
“You like this pace?”
She did. She nodded.
He slid deeper. “You want more?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
He sank further, occupying her with a progression of small thrusts. How close was he to having his entire shaft inside her? She ached for it. The need was intense and unfathomable. Some switch inside her head had flicked in response to his demands. He claimed more of her, while holding her steady in his grasp and it seemed as if her whole belly was filled by his stealthy cock.
He altered his stance, drawing one leg up while remaining knelt on the other. “I’m balls deep, human. Feel it. Feel my cock buried in your tight ass. This is how you will serve me. Obey me.”
He was in some kind of headspace. One where she was purely his to please. She’d done this to him. She’d conquered a noble warrior, a barbaric alien, by surrendering to him. The contradiction was profound. She finally understood how she could survive this ordeal.
“Fuck me, please, lord,” she begged.
“Indeed, I shall,” he growled softly and grabbed a handful of her hair in his fist. “Like this.”
He drew back and reentered her. No force or show of strength was necessary. He wasn’t winning her with brutality, it wasn’t necessary. She acquiesced and stayed open. Short, firm thrusts were his preference. His hips and thighs slapped against her bottom. His technique was for her benefit, he was being quick. He had to be—her legs were failing again.
“Don’t dare come,” he ordered.