Page 9 of Tamed for Her Pleasure

“You have no rights, heathen!”

“I shall do whatever the fuck I want. Have we not already established that you are my prisoner, lass? Your other little toothpicks that you are doubtless hiding are no threat to me.”

I pause my spanking to pet her ass through her leathers, throwing a look heavenwards as I slide my hand to cup her intimately from behind, feeling how hot and damp she is there, even through her clothing, as she thrashes in earnest. And I admit to being a bastard as I press my fingers a little deeper, watching on with amusement as her thrashing takes on an unmistakable humping motion. My sweet and feisty prisoner is seeking to get more of my fingers against her most intimate place.

I take my hand away. Spank her right ass cheek again hard. “None of that, lass. Bad little girls do not get off.”

Her squeal is one of fake outrage. She knew exactly what she was doing.

I glance around for something to bind her wrists with and come up short. My belt will have to do. My cock flexes painfully as releasing it relieves some of the pressure. She doubles down her struggles as I secure it around her wrists, pulling it tight, but not too tight, and then leaning back to watch as she tests the restraint.

Satisfied. I nod—time to check her for daggers.

I pat her down, finding two daggers against the shoulder blades, the perfect angle for her to reach back and grasp, hidden in the sturdy leather armor. She grunts as I toss them away. There are two more at her lower back, one tucked inside her sleeve at her wrist, which joins the pile, along with yet another from her ankle. Then I turn her over and extract another three.

My search gives me ample opportunity to get my hands all over her. She glares at me, cheeks rosy, as she mutters curses that would make a sailor turn his head. Then I squeeze her plumped tits together over her leathers to check her there.

“Take your hands off me, beast.”

I rub my thumbs back and forth over her budding nipples and arch my brow. “I’m making sure there are no more daggers here, lass.”

“There are no daggers there!”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something here feels very hard.” I squeeze her nipples through the leather armor.

She gasps and tries to raise her knee.

“Ah, ah, none of that.” I throw my leg over and settle some of my weight down, pinning her against the fur bed. “You’ve earned yourself a bare bottom spanking—an arduous task. Clearly, you’ve not felt the weight of a man’s palm against your ass enough in your short life to carry this much anger around with you. It is my duty to set you right.”

“It isnotyour duty!”

“Well, I’m making it my duty, little girl,” I say, more casually than I feel. It has not escaped my notice that her eyes flash with heat every time I call her that.

Then I do something I never do with a lass: I lean down and steal a kiss.

Her lips are soft, and they part under mine, giving me leave to slip my tongue inside. I deepen the kiss, moving my mouth hungrily over hers. It feels intimate. It feels right. And when I force myself to break the spell, we are both breathing heavy, and her features have a dreamy aspect which I very much like having put there. She needs very badly to be dominated, has probably never let go once in her short, coveted, princess life.

Her softening lasts all of a second before she levels me with a scowl. “You will not take a second mate.”

“Eh?” Her statement throws me in a loop. “Lass, we were kissing.”

She tries to buck me off. I settle more weight on her and grin. I should not like that she is a possessive little thing. Normally I fucking hate it, and it would be a mood killer for sure. It does not kill my mood; if anything, more blood surges into my cock, and it kicks enthusiastically against my pants. I can’t fucking stop myself from reaching down and, my eyes on hers, undoing the first buckle of her armor at her throat.

Her chest heaves as the material parts. I run my finger down the gap until I reach the next buckle, and then I unclip that. We stare at one another, and I see how her pupils dilate, how the sweet scent of her arousal floods the tent, sending me a little stupid. There’s no doubt she is dangerous. I ought to be more cautious, more careful. She has probably got another knife somewhere. I’ve already liberated a dozen, but I’m certain there are more. I will get to that, and it’s a risk I’m willing to take as thenext buckle yields and the material gives and creamy, heaving tits all but spill out.

“Gods, these are nice,” I say, squeezing them together before drawing the material away on the right side until her plump nipple peeks out. It’s too much. I can’t resist. My mouth is watering for the taste. Like a sleepwalker, my head lowers until I enclose the stiff peak in my mouth and suck.

She groans, fucking groans, arching up into my mouth. I tug the material away roughly, squeeze her tit in my hand, and suck as much of the flesh into my mouth as I can.

“Oh, Goddess!”

Her needy words drive a steely hardiness into my cock, making it flex painfully against my leather pants. I drag my nose across her soft skin and tug the material impatiently away from the other tit so I can lavish attention upon its twin until her nipple pebbles. I roll it roughly between my finger and thumb while pinning her with a look. Then I cup my big hands around her plump tits and watch her expression turn wild as I capture both nipples between my fingers and thumbs and roll them.

“Does that feel good?”

“Fuck you, barbarian scum.”

I chuckle. When was the last time I enjoyed a woman this much? I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like this—the play between us, the electricity in the air like before a storm. I lower my head again and suck and nip the beautiful flesh of her tits, one side and then the other, leaving little marks to say I was here.

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