“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
His exhalation is ragged. “Goddamn, woman. Goddamn.”
Then he slaps my throbbing p***y, and I come.
Sobbing and jerking in his arms, I come so hard, I lose myself. The entire time, he whispers praises into my ear, words in English and Gaelic that melt like butter over my heated skin.
Then he’s jerking, too, hips thrusting erratically, broken moans falling from his lips. I feel him throbbing inside me, feel a spreading warmth as his hand closes around my throat.
He spills himself inside me with a roar.
As we fall limp and spent to the carpet and he gathers me into his arms, I wonder how this dark fairy tale will end.
Because it will end. It has to. The only question is who will be left standing when the castle walls come crashing down—the princess? The dark
