Page 28 of The Princess's Pet

“Good. I want you to count with me,” she said, immediately followed by a much harder slap that stung at least ten times as worse as the first. I cried out in pain.

“One,” the Princess stated, and after a moment to recover I repeated

“One,” in a quieter voice.

“Two,” she said after another hard slap that rippled through my entire body.

“Two,” I repeated when I caught my breath.

I tried to pull away, anticipating the next strike, but the Princess simply applied more pressure to my back.

“Three,” she stated, and it took me longer to respond, tears having sprung to my eyes.

“Three,” I cried. “Please no more,” I begged, but she didn’t answer me.

I brought my hands up to protect my cheeks, and the Princess growled, taking my wrists in her hands and holding them at the base of my back before continuing.

“Four,” she stated after another spank, and I hissed through the pain.

“Four,” I replied.

She slapped directly across my sit spot, and it was the most painful spank yet. I cried out,“Five,” loudly before the Princess called the number.

Her hand ran over where she had struck me, firmly but soothingly, massaging the flesh. I cried quietly across her lap, feeling small and vulnerable, and all the upset of the day seemed to be in those tears. It was horrible, ugly crying, but it felt releasing at the same time.

“Shh, shh,” she hushed me as she continued to knead my flesh. Her hand released my wrists, and I began to rub my eyes with the heel of my palms.

She helped me stand up before she sat me back down in her lap, and I hissed at the pressure on my tender rump.

Her hands swept my hair out of my face, and her fingers wiped tears from my cheeks. She pulled my head down to her collar and held me there, her hands running up and down my back and arm.

“It’s okay, pet,” she cooed into the top of my head, her lips pressing against me.

“You didn’t speak to me, and I don’t know why,” I sobbed out between hiccups and tears.

“I know, it’s okay,” she spoke softly, holding me tighter to her. “The way of things here is new and you don’t understand it fully yet. You’re mine, Percy. My nature is possessive and protective of you, more so than I’ve ever experienced before. Your blood sings, the most attractive source I’ve ever come across, and I must ensure your safety for my own. It’s a dangerous combination of instinct. I pride myself on my self-control, but with you, it is lacking. I didn’t like that your little friend took you from me today. I also didn’t like the way your attention was on Lord Halvorsen.” Her voice sounded strained when she mentioned the noble shifter.

“I don’t like him,” I huffed out, my tears beginning to dry, and I felt better than I had all day. It seemed I needed to let out my upset.

“You don’t?” the Princess questioned.

“I hate him and want him to die,” I answered before my mind could catch up with my words, and my hand rose instantly to clamp over my mouth and stop myself from speaking more. The Princess laughed loudly, her shoulders shaking against me.

“I can’t say I’m overly fond of him either. I thought you would like him because he’s a beast shifter,” she asked.

I removed my hand from my mouth, the Princess’s laughter calming my worry at my uncontrolled words. “I don’t like or dislike him, or anyone based on what they are,” I explained.

“And why don’t you like him?” she questioned, her lips pressing against my head.

I shrugged, not wanting to answer. I didn’t want the Princess to know just how irrationally jealous I was of him. She hummed, but didn’t press me for an answer.

She held me for a while longer, hands stroking my arms, legs, and back. She pressed light kisses to my head. It was the best feeling. I felt sleepy, but she wouldn’t let me nap in her lap, demanding I got up and dressed while she ordered dinner.

10. A Sweaty Weekend

The Princess woke me up, nuzzling my neck in a way that was becoming common and was far too enjoyable.

When the Princess wasn’t touching me, or simply just existing in the same room as me, I could reasonably process that my bodily reactions to her were concerningly strong. I seemed to lose all control of myself when it came to the Princess, and the more time I spent with her the stronger the pull she had on me. Maybe it was because we were soul matched. She was meant to be perfect for me in some way, and given how much I craved her physical touch, I doubted that perfection was platonic.

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