Her Royal Daddy by Maren Smith & Rayanna Jamison

Author:Maren Smith & Rayanna Jamison [Smith, Maren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2019-08-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Norah

God, he was an asshole. How could I be so stupid? He’d seemed like such a breath of fresh air after Brian, but now I knew he was everything I needed to avoid.

Arrogant.

Chauvinistic.

Territorial.

High-handed.

Dishonest.

A fucking prince.

And hot. Oh, fucking God, every damn thing about him that I hated made him even hotter and more irresistible to me than before.

He was stripping now, shrugging out of the normal, everyday shirt he was wearing, as he climbed up onto the bed after me. I wanted to shove him back and run from his room.

I also wanted to lick my way from his bulging shoulders, following the path of his hard, dark abs until I was unfastening him out of his pants with my teeth. How was I supposed to focus on all the reasons I should be furious right now when he was whipping his belt out of his pants loops, doubling it over in one hand and reaching for me with his other?

“You know what happens to baby girls who hit their daddies?” he asked, flipping me onto my stomach and planting his hand in the small of my back to keep me there. “They get hot, sore bottoms to teach them better.”

There wasn’t anywhere near enough fabric in my uniform skirt today to protect me from the bite of his belt, and yet from the first snap of leather as it wrapped the curves of my ass, it was like all this was what I had been waiting for. This was why I had chased after Mazi instead of staying with the king and doing my job. It seemed so just, so appropriate for my having slapped and then bit him on the stairs. It fit the explosive passion that had overwhelmed me at his kiss. It hurt, and yet felt good. I hated it, and yet I lay on my belly, clinging to the bedding, fighting myself not to struggle as he whipped the seat of my skirt half a dozen times before baring my bottom completely for one of the hottest, hardest, most breathtaking and yet arousing spankings of my life.

My pussy refused to differentiate between the pain of the belt, repeatedly wrapping my ass in its hugging embrace, and the pleasure it so badly wanted to feel. The pleasure I got hints of every time Mazi paused in the middle of spanking me to rub his rasping hand over my stinging flesh. He cupped, he squeezed, he didn’t seem to care at all how much noise I made when he did it. I protested, but not because I wanted it to stop. I wanted it to anything but stop, but there was something so freeing in having the need to fight stripped out of me.

I didn’t want to yield, I wanted him to make me yield and that’s exactly what he did. First with his belt, and then his caressing, squeezing hand, and finally, he grabbed a handful of the hair at the back of my scalp

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