Chapter Sixteen
Julian
I don’t lose control. I don’t .
I nearly did, just now, but I don’t lose control .
I open the door to the office in my suite, shut the door behind me quickly. I wasn’t lying that I have more work to do, but I also suddenly needed to get away from Belle before I did something .
Before I took her off my lap, tossed her onto the couch .
Before I lost control and took her hard and fast on the sofa like she was practically begging me to do, before I became a slave to my base desires, someone who can’t resist a girl .
Belle’s hard to resist, that’s for sure. The hardest girl I’ve ever met, but if I lose control in this way, how else can I lose it? I’m a prince. I’ve got a country to run. People depend on me, and the last time I lost control, people died .
It wasn’t really my fault. Roadside bombs could make anyone lose control, but it still happened. I wasn’t in control, I couldn’t keep my men safe, and I lost most of them along with the sight in one eye .
I imagine a shrink would have a lot to say about the relationship between what happened that terrible day and the fact that now I’ve got a hidden dungeon in my bedroom, but I don’t know for sure. I’ve never asked one .
I just know that I always liked it a little rougher than most people did. That I wanted girls to rake their nails down my back while I pulled their hair, that I liked it best when they were tied up and moaning my name, that I could make a girl come even harder if I spanked her before I fucked her .
And now I’m here, with a St. Andrew’s cross and a wall of floggers, and I wouldn’t want it any other way .
Past my office door, I can hear Belle’s soft footsteps as she makes her way from the sitting room into the kitchen. There’s the slight clatter of pots and pans as she does something — probably fixing herself some dinner. I haven’t eaten, but I’m not hungry .
I wonder if she’s still topless, or if she’s pulled her dress back up and covered her perfect tits .
I’m sure she can feel the vibrator move slightly with every step she takes, even when it’s not turned on. That’s what the company promised, at least, and I imagine her leaning against the counter, hands balled into fists, as she fights it, juices sliding down the insides of her thigh .
The remote’s in my pocket. I could turn it on right now, make her jump, but I don’t. I really do have work that I need to do in here — and some of it is damage control about Belle’s situation .
I force myself to stop thinking about her, in the kitchen, pussy stuffed full, and turn my attention to the kingdom’s public relations .