Tamed: A Kinky Adult Fairy Tale (Bedding the Bad Girl Book 2) (6 page)

“I don’t take orders.” His voice was hard, but there was a grin on his face as he slapped her ass—hard. The sound of flesh on flesh mingled with her gasp of surprise, reverberating off the walls of the shower.

“Don’t you dare.” Her lips formed the right words, but her tone was anything but angry. How could she sound angry when her pussy was clenching with excitement and the stinging skin on her bottom screaming for more?

Her mind might not want him to spank her, but her body did. Her body wanted to be turned over his knee and punished, wanted him to redden her ass before he worked thick fingers into where she ached for him.

“You don’t like it when I spank you?” He slapped her again, and her gasp became a groan. She wiggled shamelessly against him, trying to get closer to his cock, to buck against him until she found relief from the hunger he inspired.

“Please, stop.” She hid her face against his shoulder, embarrassed by how much a part of her wanted this. She wanted him to hurt her, to use her, and then she wanted him to make her come until her soul floated outside her body.

“Show me your face, Katarina.” He rubbed the spot where he had smacked her with his palm. She shuddered and arched into his touch.

“I can’t,” she whispered, clinging to his shoulders, feeling strangely lost.

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I can’t… Not yet.”

“Then let’s try something different.” He hugged her gently, as if he understood the emotions warring within her. He kissed her forehead, just once, but once was enough to take her breath away.

She was still reeling from the sweetness of that kiss when he spun her around to face the tile, pressing her forward until she was once more pinned between his warmth and the cool wall. Her breasts tingled and stung, aching for more than the tile to caress them, her sex throbbed, and even her ass began to pulse as his erection pressed between her cheeks.

“I only want to give you pleasure. But maybe that will be easier if you can’t see my face.” He kissed her neck as his warm hands slid from her belly to cup her breasts. “Let go, Katarina. Just let go.”

He pumped liquid soap from the dispenser on the wall and smoothed it onto her aching breasts, the slickness of his hands on her nipples enough to make her cry out. She arched back against his erection, silently begging him to end the sweet torture of his hands teasing and plucking at her sensitized skin.

“I know what you want.” His accent grew thicker as one hand trailed down the flat plane of her stomach to tease through her patch of auburn curls. She squeezed her eyes shut, silently praying for him to finger her clit, or to dip lower and shove inside her.

“Is that one of your favorite sayings?” The words caught in her throat as his fingers explored her folds, touching her everywhere but where she yearned to be touched.

“Only when it’s the truth.”

Finally he dipped lower, thrusting in and out of her as he continued his erotic torment at her breasts. In seconds, she was writhing against the wall, struggling to arch her back enough to allow him to ram into her from behind. She wanted his cock in her, wanted it badly enough to beg for it.

“Please, oh please.” She gasped for breath, dizzy with sensation.

He kissed her throat, biting the place where neck became shoulder and pinched her nipples until they hurt, but the fingers between her legs only gentled. The more roughly he used every other part of her body, the more maddeningly tender his movements inside her became.

Kat’s nerve endings were on fire and her sex pulsed like a live thing, frantic for more, driven to a state of desperation.

“Anything you want. I’ll do anything, please, just please,” she sobbed.

“Anything I want?” He smacked her ass again and an animal sound escaped from the back of her throat. “Answer me, Kat.”

“Yes, anything. Anything.” A profound sense of peace swept over her as she said the words, as if she had freed her body from some unknown prison.

“Good girl.” Serge whispered his approval as his hands smoothed over her bottom. He spread her and pressed the thick head of his cock to her opening. Kat moaned and tilted her hips, never having been so close to orgasm from such little contact.

He penetrated her ever so slowly, inch by torturous inch. He was so hot, so hard, and thick enough to make her walls stretch deliciously to accommodate his girth. His breath came fast against her neck as he slid in to the hilt, the trembling of the strong arm he wrapped around her waist telling her how perfect it felt to be buried inside her.

“You feel so good.” Kat mumbled against the wet tile.

“Not as good as you feel. God.” He took a deep breath and held still within her, his hands stroking softly across her stomach and down the curve of her bottom.

Kat sighed and arched backward, taking him deeper, trembling when she felt the head of his cock bump up against the end of her. She felt deliciously free, able to abandon herself to the raw physicality of making love in a way she never had before.

Not making love, fucking.

Kat leaned back to capture his lips, determined not to think about the fine line between fucking and making love, not when she was so close to what she knew would be the best orgasm of her life. Analyzing the alien aching in her heart could wait until she had satisfied all of her other aches.

Serge groaned something in a language she didn’t understand, his words filled with so much emotion that she dared to believe that this might be as mind-blowing for him as it was for her. But then he pulled out and rammed back in with a roar, banishing all rational thought.

Kat braced herself on the slick wall, pushing back against him as he thrust inside her, claiming her as roughly as she’d prayed he would. His skin slapped against hers, a satisfying sound of flesh upon hungry flesh, while his hand moved to her clit. One strong arm held her tightly around the waist, leveraging her closer as he took her deeper, harder, faster and his fingers applied just the right pressure to her swollen clit, flying back and forth until she bowed in his arms.

Kat screamed as she came, crying out with a passion that she had always kept bottled tightly within her. But Serge was there with her, crying out in another language, urging her on with his cock, his hips, his hands as he joined her. His fingers gripped her hips as he shot inside her, grinding forward until she was pinned against the wall, her hipbones pressing almost painfully into the tile.

But it was a good pain, a fulfilled, well-used kind of pain that she suspected she would never get enough of.

Neither of them said anything for several moments. They remained as they were, the sound of their labored breath mingling with the sound of water hitting tile. Kat closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the last few moments of bliss before panic set in.

It would set in; she knew that without a doubt. She had gone and done it again, let her heart soften and she didn’t know if she would be able to firm it up again. Abandon came with a price, after all. And the price she’d paid last time had been far too high.

“Now can I feed you some Fettuccine Alfredo?” Serge asked in a husky voice.

Her jaw relaxed as some of the tension straining her muscles leaked away. Of all the things he could have said, that was a good choice. He was keeping it light, easy, and she was grateful.

He slid slowly from her body and turned her in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “You are beautiful as you are, but a little more flesh on your bones wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“You spend five years in the dungeon and see how much flesh you have left.” The words slipped from her lips before she realized what she was saying.

She never talked about the dungeon. Never! Why would she want to remind anyone how horrible she truly was? Especially a man she found so undeniably interesting and who—despite her earlier attitude—she wanted to think well of her?

“That part of your life is over now.” His tone held no pity or disgust. “You’ve left rock bottom behind.”

“I’m glad someone is sure of that.” She tried to pull away—feeling even more vulnerable with his eyes focused on her face—but he tightened his grip, tugging her against him once more.

Her breasts flattened against his solid chest, awakening a tingle of desire, though she wouldn’t have believed it possible so soon after the kind of release she’d just experienced.

“I’m sure of it and sure I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you.” He dropped his lips to hers. The kiss was full of hunger, but laced with an underlying sweetness that made her feel soft inside. There was nothing soft, however, about the cock swelling against her thigh.

She chuckled as he trailed kisses down her neck. “That’s pretty impressive for an old guy.”

“I’m forty-one. I’ve got another good decade or two left in me.”

“I’m thirty-two, but I guess you knew that,” Kat said, reaching down to stroke his rapidly swelling erection.

“Actually, I thought you were older.”

“Jerk,” she said, sticking out her tongue.

“I just meant that you have an old soul.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of humor and lust that left her no choice but to smile back.

“Likely story.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, before she began kissing her way down his chest, her mouth practically watering for a taste of his cock.

Of course, if he kept teasing her about her age, she might have to torture him more thoroughly than she’d planned…

“Wait.” He took her upper arms in a firm grip and pulled her back to her feet. “Food first, then we can decide what comes next.”

Before she had time to protest, the water was shut off and her body tenderly wrapped in his towel He took her hand and led her back into the—thankfully—still-empty locker room.

After he was dressed, Serge stood lookout so Kat could dash to the women’s side without putting on her dirty gym clothes. By the time she’d moussed her hair, put on clothes and applied a little mascara and lip gloss, she had almost comes to terms with how excited she was to be going to dinner with Serge. He was an unexpectedly nice guy, and there was nothing wrong with enjoying herself sexually.

Who cared if he was the biggest slime ball in the Kingdom? Better a slime ball than an attempted murderess.

Besides, she’d known Serge’s reputation from the start. The first time she’d met him he was sharing a bed with three nearly naked boob monsters for God’s sake. He was the type of guy you had fun with, nothing more. Despite her earlier worries, she was fairly certain she would be able to keep her heart firmly in her chest.

Serge was the perfect candidate for a first foray back into the world of male-female relationships. He was casual, he was controlled, and he was excellent in bed—though they hadn’t technically hit the sheets yet. He wouldn’t be hurt. She wouldn’t be hurt. They were simply two rational adults enjoying a mutually pleasurable, no-strings-attached sexual relationship.

If she’d been in the mood to be introspective, she might have admitted that his honesty and understanding had won her respect and budding affection. But she wasn’t feeling introspective. In her post coital haze, Kat chalked her excitement up to a fabulous cock and the promise of Fettuccine Alfredo. She did like his cock, and pasta wasn’t bad, either, especially when topped with cheese.

Maybe she could convince him to coat his cock with cheese…

Now there was an idea that had her slinging her gym bag over her shoulder and heading out of the women’s locker room with a spring in her step, never imagining how fast she was going to fall for the man waiting for her just outside the door.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Two months later

Kingdom City Reporter

November 12
th

Reality Television’s Latest Sensation

Real-Life Rules to Catch a King
, the reality show that has the women of the Kingdom shining their tiaras and kings everywhere running for the hills, is a runaway success. One part “how-to” programming, one part game show, and one part soap opera,
Catch a King
has everything it takes to keep an audience coming back for more.

Now in its final three weeks, the show has become so hugely popular that a second season, showcasing all-new queens and all-new challenges, has already begun preproduction. This time, however, the producers had no difficulty signing some of the biggest names in the monarch business.

“They’ve seen how we work and they know they can trust us to be respectful, while still delivering the intimate details the audience loves to see,” Matthew Orlando, junior producer for Catch a King stated when asked why big names would put their reputations in the hands of a new production company.

But many wonder if the second season will be as riveting without the more colorful queens. Would we enjoy the “choosing the bait” challenge as much without the drunken antics of the former Queen of Pleuvaria? Would the “first night in the castle” challenge have the same punch without the two ex-wives of Carl the Younger battling it out for the bedroom of their choice?

And can a second season hope to capture our imagination without the presence of the most surprising of the contestants, the former Queen Katarina de Barden? Watching this ex-con and would-be murderess charm her way to victory in seven of the eight challenges thus far has been the most fascinating aspect of
Catch a King
. Is she really a reformed sweetheart, or is this the same façade she used to capture her first king? Could this be the charm that convinced a woodsman with no prior criminal record to attempt to take the life of the beautiful Snow White?