CHAPTER TWO
(Charlotte)
Finally, I got to kiss him.
He had been right, we had needed to talk, to clear the air before we jumped into bed together. And the spanking grounded me; somehow, it was easier to obey him when we were playing out our roles.
Maybe Charlotte could run from Matt, but the princess would never run from her dragon again.
So, I kissed him, and it already felt like I’d never left.
But at the same time, it felt like I’d been away for a lifetime. Somehow, in twenty-four hours, I forgot the taste of his mouth. The heat of his body. All of those things came back to me in a rush when he pulled me to straddle his lap, but it alarmed me that I’d forgotten at all.
Maybe I’d done it on purpose. Maybe I’d… let him go.
When I’d left yesterday, it had been final.
I hadn’t been honest with myself, or him, about that.
He was right. I had run from him, with every intention of it being an end.
It would have been a slow death, of late-night phone sex and occasional cross-country visits, but I would have been forcing every bit of playful banter, every smile.
I would have been forcing myself to tell him that I loved him, because I would have known, even if I never had admitted it, that pain would be on the way.
And that’s why I’d run, in the first place. I was so afraid to let myself love him, out of fear of future pain.
I lifted my mouth from his. “I have to tell you something.”
He waited for me to continue.
“I love you. But I don’t think I was letting myself love you all the way. I was guarding myself because I was afraid.”
“I know,” he said softly.
“But I’m ready now. I’m ready to be in love with you and not be afraid of what’s going to happen in the future.” I caught a strange combination of a laugh and a sob at the back of my throat. “I’m ready to believe that whatever my future is, it includes you.”
“It does.” He put a hand behind my head and drew me down to catch my lips again, and I melted against him like I could seep into his skin somehow. Like we could fuse our cells and guarantee that nothing would ever separate us.
But I was the only danger to us where separation was concerned. I was the one who’d called it off, but didn’t have the guts to call it off.
There was no amount of spanking or groveling that could make up for the pain and worry I’d caused him. It was time to grow the fuck up, take responsibility for my emotions, and not run from them the second things got hard.
I rose up taller on my knees, and Matt’s mouth moved down my throat.
He held me with his hands at the small of my back, steadying me so he could find access to every available inch of my skin.
He made a trail of sucking kisses that would definitely leave hickeys.
I giggled at the ticklish intensity, squeezed my thighs together as much as I could with him between them.
Was he was leaving those marks on purpose, so that there would be some physical stamp of ownership there?
Despite his sensibilities toward sex, there was a thread of possessiveness that ran through Matt.
I wasn’t sure he even knew it was there, but I saw it. And I loved it.
The princess wanted to be owned by her dragon.
I knew his handprints were emblazoned on my ass. I knew the hickeys on my throat would be visible probably for days. And I liked it.
“Bite me,” I whispered.
He lifted his head. “What?”
“Bite me.” I gestured to the spot between my neck and shoulder.
He put his teeth on me and gently increased pressure.
“No. Harder.” I jerked his head down. “Leave a mark.”
There was a split second of hesitation, but he did it. He sank his teeth hard into my flesh, and I gasped at the sharp pinch. I squirmed and tried to pull away instinctively before remembering that I’d wanted this. I’d asked for it.
I pushed into the pain, felt a pop, and Matt jerked back, swearing.
“Shit. You’re bleeding.” He wiped the faintest trace of red from his bottom lip. “I’m sorry, I—”
“No, it’s what I wanted.” I reached up and touched the spot, already swollen and aching, like another part of me was swollen and aching. “I liked it.”
I pushed him back on the bed and ground my vulva against the hard ridge of his cock, running my hands up under his t-shirt. He laughed. “Oh, are we tearing each other’s clothes off? Is that what’s happening?”
“You knew what you were doing with those slutty gray sweatpants.” They had not gone unnoticed. “And the spanking.”
“Fair enough.” He curled up and gripped the spaghetti straps on my shirt. One quick pull and they were gone. He grabbed the front and ripped it entirely in half.
“You were walking around practically naked. Do you know how many people were looking at you? Coveting my princess?” he growled.
I shivered. “I did. I noticed their eyes on me.”
“You did it on purpose.” He cupped my breasts and brushed his thumbs over my nipples.
Maybe I had, but subconsciously. “I did. I wanted to make you jealous. Did it work?”
“Do you want it to have worked?” He searched my face, looking for the answer.
“I did.” I trailed my fingers over his abs, down to the waistband of his pants. “I like it when you’re jealous and possessive. I like seeing how much you want me.”
“Right.” He nodded, his mouth set in grim determination for a moment.
With sudden roughness, he pushed me off him, onto my hands and knees.
“If I’m supposed to prove how much I want you,” he began, his hand wrapping around my throat and sliding up to my face. He forced his fingers into my mouth, far back enough to choke me. “Then you need to be prepared to find out.”
I gagged and sputtered as he withdrew his hand, and he smeared my own saliva over my already wet pussy.
I felt the band of his sweatpants against the back of my thighs; he didn’t even bother to take his clothes off.
The head of his cock prodded me and then he was inside, ramming into me so hard that all the air forced from my lungs on a wordless shout of surprise.
“You want proof?” It was a threat, not a question. “You want me to prove that every inch of you is mine?”
He slammed his hips forward again. “Because you are mine, princess. And I might share you, sometimes, but when it comes right down to it, you fucking belong to me.”
Gripping my ponytail, he jerked my head back. “Fucking say it.”
“I’m yours,” I gasped.
“Louder!” He thrust into me again, all of him, so hard it hurt.
“I’m yours!” I shouted.
“I want to hear you scream it, Charlotte.” He ground deep, pulled my hair harder. “I can make you scream it.”
He could. So, I did. I screamed, “I’m yours!” at the top of my lungs, over and over with each deep plunge, each slap of his hips against my bruised ass.
I was his. Body and soul. And for the first time…
I didn’t feel like running from that.
Withdrawing abruptly, he ordered, “Turn over. Hang your head off the bed so I can fuck your throat.”
As I scrambled into position, he got to his feet and retrieved something from the bedside table. I heard the click of a button and the unmistakable thrum of a wand vibrator.
“You’re going to take this dick and you’re going to come until I’m done with you,” he warned, stepping in front of me and bracing his hand beside my head for balance. “Open your fucking mouth.”
My jaw dropped open, my head tilting back far over the edge to give him access. He wasn’t looking for a blow job; he was going to do exactly as he said and fuck my throat like it was my pussy. My job was to lay there and choke.
He pushed in, as far back as he could go, and held himself there while I gagged. Then, he reached down, found my clit with his fingers, and pulled back the hood to fully expose the sensitive tips.
When he touched the vibe to that unprotected, deeply sensitive organ, I bucked and tried to shout.
He pumped his hips slowly, groaning in satisfaction.
The relentless throb of the vibrator made incredibly quick work of me.
My legs jerked and thrashed, and I almost drowned on my own spit as I took deep, gulping breaths.
The pleasure burst, an unstoppable force tearing through me, then turned into the worst torment.
“Fuck, I love hearing you struggle to scream.” He clicked the vibrator onto a pulsing pattern. The bastard. Direct, relentless stimulation would numb me fast, and he knew it. Now, I had no hope of escape.
Matt was vocal during sex, and we’d had enough of it that I knew exactly what certain noises meant. So, I wasn’t surprised when he abruptly pulled out, pinching the base of his cock and cursing.
I giggled, then almost immediately inhaled the copious amount of saliva running up my face.
“You’ll live,” was his only response. The callous indifference was new. Mean. It shouldn’t have turned me on as much as it did.
Under control once more, he ordered, “Hold that vibrator right there. Don’t you dare give yourself a break.”
You needed to take one, I almost responded.
But there would be a consequence if the princess talked back.
Plus, it thrilled me to know that he did have to take a break.
That he wanted me so much, his staying power was imperiled.
That even though he was in charge, I could have snatched that control from him with a well-timed swipe of my tongue, if I’d wanted to.
But I didn’t want that. I wanted him to control me, to reduce me to a creature that took orders, obeyed them, didn’t have to think about what would come next. I wanted him to suspend me in a moment of pure pleasure that erased everything else about me.
Luckily, that’s what he wanted to give me, and what he wanted to take in return.
He laid down beside me and pulled me in close, reaching past the wand to find my opening. The barest touch was nearly enough to push me over; when he hooked his fingers inside and pressed hard on my g-spot, I tumbled into a release so intense, my wail hurt my throat.
“Again,” he ordered, brushing my hand aside to change the vibration pattern again. I twisted and kicked, but he leveraged his arm over me, trapping me against the bed and holding the toy tight to my body.
“I can’t!” I sobbed. “Not again!”
“You can and you will. Unless you want to beg me for mercy.” The subtle reminder of my safe word was couched in a challenge. Did I want to submit to him, or would I take the easy way out?
I gritted my teeth and shook my head, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes as his fingers worked inside me.
“You’re going to come so hard you ruin this duvet. Do you understand me?” He pressed his fingertips tighter against my g-spot.
“I understand you, my dragon!” I managed to get out before my body bowed and tightened and the unbearable pressure of another orgasm built and broke in record time.
“Again!”
When would it end, I wondered. When would it be enough? When would my dragon be satisfied?
I hoped never, even as he turned up the speed on the wand and added a third digit to his assault.
“What did you think you’d find out there, without me, princess?” he growled in my ear. “Did you think you were going to find someone who could do this to you?”
“No!” I shouted, curling up from the bed.
“Because you wouldn’t,” he warned. “No matter where you go or what you do, your dragon is the only one who will ever make you feel this.”
“Yes, my dragon!” I agreed wholeheartedly. Because I’d had plenty of partners in the past and no one had ever come close to what I felt when I was with Matt.
“Come,” he ordered, and as if he could make it happen with a word, it did happen. So fast and hard that my calves cramped, so powerfully that I felt a wet burst cascade over his hand, down my ass.
He pulled his hand free and snarled, “Open your fucking legs for me.”
They were already splayed apart, but I widened them, welcomed him back into my body and cried out, “Thank you!” as he sank deep.
The vibrator stayed trapped between us, still hit me perfectly in the most awful ways while Matt’s cock flexed in my cunt.
He stayed like that, deep, barely moving, and braced his hands on either side of my head.
His gaze captured mine and held it. There was nothing playful about this now. Neither of us were acting out our roles. For one long moment, we were Matt and Charlotte, not the dragon and his princess.
And he asked me, “Be honest. Do you want to be with me?”
I bit my lip and stifled a moan. I wanted to focus, to give him a real, well-thought-out answer.
Something reassuring, so that he knew he could stop being afraid, that he could trust me, that I wasn’t going anywhere.
But the damn vibrator was bringing me closer and closer, and it was difficult to concentrate, impossible almost to choke out, “Yes!”
I came hard, the word twisting to a moan, the moan becoming, “I love you, I love you,” over and over, moving from mindless babble to an intentional plea.
I love you. Love me. For who I am, for the fears I have. Possess me, even when I think I want to be set free. Because I never truly want to be free from you. I never want to be without you, ever.
I couldn’t say the words, but I knew he heard them in that one, purely honest moment at the brink of my climax.
Nobody can lie through an orgasm.
His control completely broke, then. He thrust hard and deep, dislodging the vibrator, pushing my body up the bed with each pounding jerk of his hips.
He caught my hands, pinned them down, and this time, he had no trouble biting me.
His teeth sank into my shoulder while his cock pummeled and stretched me.
My legs locked around his back, and I rolled my pelvis, trying to meet his increasingly erratic rhythm.
He stilled. He spilled inside of me, hot as any fire.
And my dragon roared.