Page 14 of Tamed for Her Pleasure

Here, within this tent, I am cocooned from my future and the consequences of what I have done. Here, I am no longer a princess. Here, he is no longer a clan king. I don’t need to worry about anything beyond being a woman submitting to a man. And so I face my fears and vulnerability and step forward until I am standing before him, right before him in the wide V between his spread thighs.

“Pants and panties down.”

Goddess, his stern voice issuing instructions brings a sweet, achy clench to my pussy.

There is no more hesitation. Worse, I feel a sense of urgency to comply with his wishes. My hands shake as I undo my pants, and with heat filling my cheeks, I thrust them down to my knees.

He purrs. A sweet, rumbly sound of approval that makes my insides soften.

“Come on over. Let’s get this done.”

I shuffle forward, and with as much grace as one can muster while their pants and panties are around their knees, I lean over his lap.

Somehow, this feels even more intimate than last night when I was face-down in his bed. I’m aware of his thick muscular thighs, of his strength, of his hard cock poking me in the side.

Everything else fades away. There is only me, Alfred, and this delicious pull between us.

He cups my ass, squeezing over one globe and then the other.

“I think you might benefit from a sterner punishment,” he says gruffly. “Maybe a cane or a crop applied to this deserving bottom. Marked by my hand.” His voice lowers to a growl. “Marked as mine.”

Then his hand lifts and connects again with a crack.

I moan. His hand lifts and connects again.

Spank!

It stings. While I am tender from last night, it also feels unbearably good. My pussy feels like it is in a state of readiness, still tingling from his attentions and every sharp spank of his big hand. The pain is all heat and stinging, but I welcome every clap, every gasp, every clench that delivers yet more delectable pulsing pleasure between my thighs.

Spank! Spank! Spank!

If only one of my suitors could make me feel like this: small, cherished, dominated.

Spank!

“Take your punishment like a good girl,” he growls, “or I will start the count again.”

Spank!

Count?

I moan.

Spank!

He has broken me. I should recoil from this, yet the breaking feels so good when every sharp clap of his big palm liberates me from chains.

Spank!

My hips are rocking, pushing up for more, teetering on the brink of something cataclysmic, and I need to reach the other side.

He stops, surges to his feet, and tumbles me onto the floor.

Humiliation hits me as he towers over me, swept away under an avalanche of lust.

His chest is heaving as he swipes a hand down his face.

Today, I understand alphas in ways I never have before. Or maybe it is a barbarian thing. I wouldn’t know either way, and I’m in no fit state to care. His dominance blazes like a beacon as I look up at him from my lowly place.

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