Page 61 of The Princess Trap
“Yes,” she said, and the certainty in her voice almost soothed the pain in his chest. Almost.
“Good. Then let me tell you whatIwant.” He dragged his hand away from her throat, down her chest, until he reached the soft mounds of her tits through her thin T-shirt. Her nipples were hard and thick beneath the fabric. He rolled one between his thumb and forefinger, and she arched her back and let out a moan. Ruben’s cock swelled, almost painful now, and he fought not to release a moan of his own.
Couldn’t let her know what she did to him. Not yet.
His voice was calm and steady as he continued. “I want control. I want you to give yourself to me, because you know I’ll look after you. Understand?”
She swallowed. “I’m… I can look after myself.”
“Of course you can,” he soothed. “You always do.” He released her nipple, running his hand slowly down her body. “You look after yourself and everyone else. You’re the smartest person in every room. You’re the most capable person I know. But you don’t have to handle everything.” He savoured the swell of her belly, the soft rise and fall of her flesh, on the way to his ultimate goal.
His palm slid between her legs, cupping her pussy over her underwear, his thumb and little finger grazing the soft skin of her thighs. “I can handle this. I can make you come. I canmake you scream.” His fingers explored the cotton gusset of her underwear, the only thing keeping him from what he really wanted.
She was wet. Fucking soaked, the thin fabric damp and sticky. The knowledge made his balls tighten, made his cock ache to sink inside her. “Don’t you get tired of thinking all the time, sweetheart? Of figuring out how everything should go and where everything should be?”
“Yes,” she sighed. Her hips lifted slightly, pumping against his palm.
He growled, pushing her back against the mattress. “Don’t move. You take what I give you. Understand?”
“Yes,” she said again, her voice thick with lust.
He rubbed her slowly through the cotton, let her feel how much he adored her. How much he needed her. When had that happened? He didn’t have time to think about it. “Let me look after you, sweetheart. You don’t have to control everything. Let me do this.” He held his breath as he waited for her answer.
Maybe it was counterintuitive, but Ruben had only ever wanted the submission of women who didn’t need him. Women who could live just fine without him, but didn’t want to. Women for whom handing over the reins was both a relief and a sacrifice. He wanted to own Cherry, because she already owned him. And she didn’t even know it.
Finally, she touched him. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, the one trapped between her thighs. She didn’t push him away. She squeezed, as if she wanted more.
He wouldn’t give her more. He wanted to tease her. He wanted her to beg. He wanted to spread her legs and fuck her until they both passed out.
Instead, he said, “Have you ever done this before? Power play?”
“No,” she admitted, her voice low. “But I know the theory.”
That made him smile. “Been researching, love?”
“Of course I have.”
“Good. Let’s talk about it.” He’d meant to go slow, but his control was fraying. She was so fucking sweet, so sharp, and he wanted every piece of her. So he hooked a finger beneath the edge of her underwear, pushed it aside, and dragged his thumb down the hot, slick seam of her pussy.
Jesus, she was wetter than he’d thought. She inhaled sharply at his touch, her fingers tightening around his wrist. He’d be surprised if she didn’t cut off his circulation. He should tell her to let go, tell her exactly where to put her hands, but something about her—about the unexpected innocence beneath all her knowing smiles and those swaying hips—got him harder than straightforward dominance. So he let her cling to him as he explored the silken folds of her cunt, spreading her wetness around.
“I like control,” he said, his voice slightly raw. “I like rough sex. I don’t want to accept your submission. I want to work for it.” He hesitated. Forced himself to continue, because truth mattered. “I want totakeit. Oh, and I have an oral fetish. You understand?”
“Yes,” she gasped. But she didn’t move. If it weren’t for theway her voice unravelled on that single word, he wouldn’t even know that she was falling apart.
Suddenly he wanted, more than anything, to see her face.
“Tell me what you want,” he said gently.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“No.” He dragged his thumb up to the swollen nub of her clit. “You have to tell me what you like. And you have to tell me your safe word. Just in case.” He hovered over her clit, waiting for her to push up, into him, to force the pressure he knew she wanted. To misbehave.
“I, um… I want you to be in charge.”
“I’m always in charge, Cherry. You know that.”
Despite her claim, she responded with sharp defiance. “I certainly do not.”
