Punished by the Prince Read Online Penelope Bloom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
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She takes her place across from me on the altar. My mind flashes an image of her from the night I rescued her from Titus and the way she looked standing across from me at a similar altar. She was going on no sleep, her dress was torn and dotted with other’s blood. Now she’s a picture of perfection, so beautiful she practically glows, I can’t help smiling because I know I would have her either way--battered and worn or beautifully put together. Elizabeth is my queen My wife. My love. And nothing will ever change that.

Elizabeth

Roark closes the door behind us. I look around the playroom at his estate outside the palace, which has become a place full of memories in the last month--the kind of memories that make me feel as if I need to change my panties.. Now I’m standing in this place of lust in my pure white wedding dress, looking at my king, who is absolutely stunning in a black suit with a high collar embroidered with his family crest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t save myself for the wedding night,” I say with a smirk.

Roark grins. “On the contrary, you did save something for me.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“You still haven’t let me enjoy that perfect ass of yours. Not the way I want to.”

He steps closer, eyes dark with intent. The idea of anal makes my stomach flip over and my skin tingle. I shake my head reflexively. I may have pushed past insecurities I never thought I would since meeting Roark, but the idea of that… It’s not that I don’t want to try, I just can’t help thinking of all the ways it could go horribly, embarrassingly wrong. “I can’t,” I say.

He moves closer still, chest pressing into me until I’m forced to back up with every step he takes. “Can’t, or won’t?” he asks.

“Can’t,” I say.

“You would deny your king?” he asks with a crooked smile.

“I wouldn’t… I just--” I back into the wall and he presses into me, filling me with the scent of his skin--fresh and crisp like cold morning air on mountaintops. I close my eyes. “It’s too embarrassing.”

He finds my eyes with his. “Elizabeth. My queen. Tell me one thing. Do you remember the safe word?”

A thrill runs through me. I know he’s about to push my boundaries when he asks me this, even though I’ve never had to use the safe word with him. He always anticipates my desires and balances that with my limitations that he just instinctively knows. “Yes,” I say.

The look on his face is feral. “Then I’ll make this very clear. I’m going to fuck your ass, and if you don’t like it, you can try to run.”

I stand motionless for a second, letting his words sink in. Instinct kicks in and I turn toward the door, yanking hard on the handle, it’s barely open an inch before it’s slammed shut by Roark’s hand. He reaches to grab me and I spin away from his grasp, running deeper into the room even though I know there’s no other way out. He’s trying to get me and I’m trying to get away--there’s nothing more. Adrenaline floods through me and the only sound I hear is my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

He catches me just by the bed in the center of the dungeon-like room, gripping me by the shoulders and throwing me roughly down to the mattress. I roll to my back and start to get up, but he crashes down on top of me, pinning my arms to the bed with hands that might as well be steel.

I squirm and struggle against him, kicking my feet. “Let me go!” I shout.

“Not until I fuck that tight little ass of yours, my queen,” he says.

His words send a dirty rush of excitement through me that starts at my chest and lingers between my legs, flooding my pussy with heat. “Please,” I gasp, “Let me go.” Red. All I have to say is a single word and he will let me go, but I know I’m not going to say it. Resisting him is turning me on like nothing I’ve ever experienced, and judging by the satisfied look on his face, he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

“Don’t move a fucking muscle,” he says. “I’m going to strip your clothes, and if you fight me, I’ll tear your wedding dress to shreds.”

This time I actually stay still, letting him take my dress off carefully, even if he’s a little rough where he can be without hurting the dress. The moment takes away from the fantasy a little bit, but the fact that he’s aware enough to make sure he doesn’t ruin my dress--which I’ll cherish for the rest of my life--is worth the distraction.

When he has me down just to my panties, he flips me over to my belly, yanking my panties down roughly and positioning himself behind me. I try to crawl away but he grips me harder, pushing my hips down and pinning me to the bed, his big body completely engulfing my smaller form. I wiggle beneath him, testing his strength even though I know there isn’t a point. He has me pinned completely and I’m at his mercy.


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