“I have nothing of yours,” I say, digging my nails into his broken skin, relishing the swell of power inside me, that I can give him pain, too.
Royal lifts me and plows onto the seat with me, wrestling my dress up while I kick and fight, scratching at his shoulder, slapping at his other arm.
“You said the wrong fucking words there, Cherry Pie,” he says, sliding down the seat until he’s between my thighs. He throws my legs over his shoulders and leans down, pressing his nose to my panties and inhaling deeply. I shove at his forehead, but he only moans low in his throat in response, rubbing his nose back and forth against me, the heat of his breath warming my center.
“Royal, don’t,” I gasp, struggling to get my legs together.
He grips them with both hands, burying his face deeper. Suddenly, he bites me, sinking his teeth into me through my underwear. I yelp and struggle harder, slapping at his head.
He chuckles and reaches down, pulling my panties aside and flicking his tongue against my clit. I gasp, the slippery warmth of his tongue making a shudder of pleasure ripple through me.
“Stop,” I gasp, my thighs shaking as he spreads me open with his fingers and slowly strokes me with his tongue.
“When you admit this is mine,” he says. He slides his tongue along my slit, tasting the wetness inside. Moaning, he presses in deeper, licking and sucking his way from my clit to my entrance, as if making sure to claim every part of me, to remind me how well he knows me and owns me.
I drop back on the seat, shivers of pleasure coiling through me, melting me from the inside out. “Royal,” I whisper, burying my fingers in his thick, dark hair.
“Mmm?” he answers, the vibration of his murmur making me quake under him. I give in, letting him spread my thighs wide and sink his tongue into my opening. He moans again, rhythmically pumping his tongue into me while he strokes my clit with his thumb, fucking me with his mouth, his fingers, until I think I’ll explode.
“Royal,” I cry out again, gripping his hair between my fingers and rocking against him, riding his tongue.
He draws back, making his way from my opening to my clit with wide, sure strokes. He moans with pleasure, tugging the bud between his lips. My hips jerk involuntarily, and he tightens his grip on my thighs, holding me still as he moves the tip of his tongue in slow, sensuous circles around my swollen clit.
“Oh god,” I gasp. “Royal, stop, I can’t—”
He rips my panties off, dropping the torn fabric on the floor, and spreads my knees wide.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he commands, his voice rough with lust. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“Never,” I breathe, sinking back on the seat. He growls and pushes his face back into me, sucking and licking and stroking, commanding my pleasure as he takes me over, takes what’s mine, what’s his. I try to hold back, but he pushes me until I’m almost sobbing with pleasure, and finally, I break.
I buck my hips under him, and he keeps up the strokes of his tongue while he works a finger into me, pulsing against my walls as they clench rhythmically around it. I gasp and stifle a cry, heat rushing to my face when I feel the gush of cum flood his mouth. He groans and pushes his finger deeper, sucking at my swollen flesh to draw out all of it.
Then he moves over me, settling his huge body between my legs. Shudders are still wracking my body, and I’m gasping for breath. He grips my chin between his thumb and finger and leans down over me, spitting a stream of warm liquid between my panting lips. I almost choke when the salty fluid washes over my tongue and I realize it’s me, that he spit my own cum back in my mouth.
“What the fuck,” I manage, gagging as it runs down the back of my throat.
“You taste so fucking good it drives me insane,” he says, his voice wild and hoarse. “Don’t you want to taste of that sweet cunt that brought your king to his knees, my dirty little slut?”
He raises up just enough to pull out his cock, pressing the bare head of it against my slick entrance. “Are you ready for me?” he asks, slowly rubbing it through my wetness and sinking just the tip inside me.
“Yes,” I breathe, grinding up against him, wanting more even now, when I just came. “God, yes. Fuck me, Royal. Show me.”
With a groan, he pushes forward, slowly sinking into me. “Oh fuck, Harper,” he says, dropping his forehead to mine. “I hate that you do this to me.”
“I hate you, too,” I whisper, stroking his hair, his neck. I pull him in, seeking his mouth, and he rewards me with a kiss, his lips finding mine. He tastes like salt and pussy, like me. His tongue slides over mine, coaxing me to him as he begins to move inside me, his thick cock stretching me and filling me with delicious torment as he forces it to my depths and grinds slowly against my clit.
It’s never enough. There’s never too much of him, and I know I want him, need him, as much as he wants me, and shamelessly, even more. Even when it hurts, when he’s so deep inside me I can hardly breathe, I crave it. I crave his roughness, his violence, his demon that possesses me, that drowns me in its insatiable hunger for me, swallows me whole.
I let it, let go, let him have me, let him thrust his bare cock so deep inside me I can’t help but cry out.
“You’re mine, Harper,” he says, thrusting into me slow and hard, winding the coils of pleasure inside me tighter and tighter each time he pushes into my core, filling me until I ache. “Whether you admit it or not. You’ve always been mine, and you’ll always be mine. Your body is mine, your pleasure is mine, your soul is mine. Now say it.”
“I can’t.”
“Then I’ll keep going until you can.”
He kisses me again, steals my cries of pleasure and torment, my moans, my fury. He fucks me until I can’t stop myself even if I wanted to, and I don’t. I finally break, opening myself, giving in, submitting to the dominant rhythm of his strong body claiming mine, taking every part of me.