Her Bodyguard - Page 14

"What are you going to do to me?" I ask, my voice lilting.

"I'm not sure, princess," he whispers. His hand goes to the middle of the cuffs, pulling them as he demonstrates that he has me right where he wants me. Or, is it right where I want to be? "What do you want me to do with you?"

He doesn't wait for me to answer. He runs his fingers along my spine, pausing at my waist, and I hold my breath. The anticipation is thrilling. The fact that he's given me no option to do my usual cut-and-run is absolutely exhilarating.

"Say the word, princess, and I'll let you go."

I'm dizzy, drunk with lust as he pushes up the layers of my skirt, the cool air hitting the wetness between my legs. Then his hardness presses against my ass, and I gasp. "Say what word?" I ask.

"My name, for starters," he growls. "You could say that."

I bite my lip. "I don't think so."

"You're stubborn," he says, his voice low. "You should be bent over and spanked for that."

"You wouldn't," I breathe, my voice catching in my throat. No one's ever done that to me before. Spank the princess? It's unbelievable. "You wouldn't dare."

He tugs on the middle of the cuffs, the metal sharp against my wrists but it only ads to my arousal. My entire body is on high-alert, waiting for him to do something. Wanting him to do something. I'm practically breathless.

"Do you know how many times I've thought about it?" he asks.

Instinctively, I lean forward, teetering on my heels as I pop my ass out, my weight supported by his hand on the cuffs.

I'm practically daring him to do it.

"Do you know how many times I've wanted to flip up one of those little skirts you wear and turn you over my knee?" he asks. He yanks my panties down, pushing them to my thighs. My pussy throbs its response, and I want to reach out and touch his cock, to grasp it in my hand. The fact that I can't is agonizing.

Then, he finally touches me. He runs his large palm over my bare ass cheek, gripping it, squeezing, and he lets go.

For a moment, I think he's about to uncuff me and walk away. But he doesn't. His voice is thick and rough in my ear. "You've needed a good, hard spanking more than anyone I've ever met."

"Really," I whisper. I can't think clearly, not when he's keeping me like this, nearly drunk with anticipation.

"You've done nothing but be a bad, bad girl," he says gruffly.

"How bad?" I ask.

With one hand still gripping the cuffs, he brings his other palm down hard on my ass. The crack of the blow sounds loud in the stillness of the library, and the pain stings sharply, but quickly subsides into a dull throb that mimics the throbbing between my legs.

The man just spanked me.

I can't believe he just spanked me, right here in the middle of everything.

I can't believe I liked it.

I can't believe I want him to do it again. In fact, I want him to do it over and over until I come with his palm pressed against me.

"You just spanked me," I gasp.

He chuckles in my ear as he presses his palm flat against my pussy. It's as if he's able to read my thoughts, as if he knows exactly what I was just fantasizing about. "You're wet, princess," he whispers.

So is he. I can feel the pre-cum through his pants, the wet spot against me as he pushes his hard cock against my thigh. He runs his fingers along my slit, and I think I might come just at his touch.

Then he pulls his fingers away. "You're such a naughty girl, getting wet like that simply because I spanked you."

When he brings his palm down on my ass again, I yelp, quickly stifling the sound by biting down hard on my lip.

"Careful, princess, or someone might hear you and you don't want that," he tells me.

"No," I whisper, "definitely not."

He rubs his palm over my ass cheek again, his touch soothing my skin, before he presses his fingertips to my entrance – my very wet, very willing entrance. He teases me by just barely entering me, and then pulling away. "Every time I had to drag your spoiled ass out of somewhere you weren't supposed to be," he says. "I wanted to bend you over."

"Yes," I moan as he brings his palm down on my rear – once, twice, three times in rapid succession, the blows enough to leave me breathless, throbbing and smarting and wondering if he's lost control.

My heart thumps wildly in my chest as he orders me to spread my legs. I do exactly what he tells me to do because every single part of my body wants to bend to him. Every inch of me wants to be taken by him.

So I spread my legs, wet and ready and willing. I think I might be so consumed by lust that I've lost my mind.

"Do you want it like this, princess?" he asks as he presses his hardness against me. "Spread like this for me, so ready and waiting? Do you want me to fuck you right here, cuffed, the way you are now?"

"Oh my God," I gasp. I don't think there's anything I've ever wanted more than exactly what he's describing.

I wait, whimpering, with bated breath for the sound of his buckle, for him to take his cock out right now and thrust it inside me. But he doesn't.

Instead, his fingers are between my legs again, and I'm dying, either because of the intensity of the pleasure or from disappointment that he's not fucking me right here against the bookcase. His fingertips meander slowly, finding their way to my clit and applying just the right amount of pressure to bring me right to the edge. His lips are at my ear, his breath warm against me as he whispers. "This isn't what you want, is it? You wish it was my cock between your legs, don't you, princess?"

"Yes." I breathe the word. Yes, yes, yes to everything he does.

He takes his time, his fingers rolling over my clit slowly like he has all the time in the world. I don't know how anyone hasn't discovered us yet, or how Mr. Rule Follower doesn't seem to care that someone could. His fingertips move over my slickness until my breath comes in short, rapid gasps.

Then, without any warning, he thrusts two fingers inside me, all in one movement that fills me up. When I let out an involuntary moan, he growls against my ear. "You'd better be quiet, princess, or someone could walk in here. Do you want to be caught with my fingers inside you?"

"No," I whimper.

"This pussy is so tight, squeezing my fingers like that," he says, his voice hoarse. I desperately want to reach out and take his dick in my hand, but he has me completely restrained and at his mercy. "Have you thought about my cock inside you?"

"Yes." I'll admit that much. I'll admit that I've fantasized about him.

But I won't call out his name, not even now.

He strokes me, his fingertips somehow sensing exactly where I desperately want to be touched until I'm swollen all around him and on the verge of coming.

"Yes, what, princess?" he asks.

He stops moving his fingers, and I'm so close I can't think straight.

But I'm not saying his name. It's the principle of the thing. A girl has to have some boundaries. She has to be able to keep her distance when she's surrounded by people every second of every day. If I say his name, it's another barrier between us that's gone, one that seems infinitely more intimate than what he's doing right now. I don't tell him any of that. Instead, I just say "no."

He responds by sliding his fingers from me, leaving me throbbing and empty and needy. "The spanking wasn't enough, was it?"

"I don't know what you mean." I bite down hard on my lip as he unzips his pants and presses his bare cock against my ass cheek. My heart races. "What are you going to do?"

My answer comes in the form of his bare cock sliding across my pussy. "You're soaked," he groans. "My cock is coated in your wetness. It would be so easy to slide inside of you right now, just like this. You're completely at my mercy, handcuffed the way you are."

A thrill rushes through me all the way to the tips of my toes. I am completely at his mercy. I'm at his mercy and I'm aching and throbbing and wanting him. "So, stop making threats and do it."

I dare him. I want him to take it as a dare and

plunge his cock inside me, filling me up to the hilt.

But he doesn't. He chuckles under his breath. "That would be too easy, princess," he says. I can feel his hand making jerky movements as he strokes his length, the head of his cock pressed right against my entrance. All I can think about is popping back my hips just a little more so that he's inside me. "I'm not going to do that."

"No?" I ask, my voice cracking. "What are you going to do with me, since I've been such a bad little girl?"

"I'm going to come all over this perfect little ass and your wet little pussy. Then you're going to pull up your panties and walk back to the engagement party, knowing that you're walking around with your bodyguard's cum all over you."

My pussy throbs at his filthy words. "Yes," I breathe. Outside in the hallway, I hear voices and my breath gets shorter, but that only seems to spur Max on.

"Do you hear that?" he whispers, stroking himself faster. "Tell me how much you want to feel it. Tell me how much you want me to come on you right now."

"Oh, God," I breathe. I do. It's the dirtiest thing imaginable, but that's exactly what I want.

And that's exactly what he does.

With a quiet groan, he comes, and warmth covers my ass and pussy. He zips his pants, leaving me standing there for a moment with my legs spread, my panties down around my thighs, and his cum covering my ass. "That's the prettiest picture I've ever seen," he says softly. "Should I leave you here like this in the library?"

Voices get closer, and my heart races.



God, the girl is breathtaking. She's a gorgeous, irresistible mess, standing there with her arms cuffed behind her back, her skirt pushed up so that her bare ass is on display, and my cum dotted all over her skin.

I can't fucking believe I just did that.

But I don't have time to think about what just happened because there are voices outside the door, and Noah squawking in my earpiece. I yank up the princess' panties and pull her skirt down to cover her bare ass, just in time before the door to the library comes flying open.

Noah stands in the entrance. "Is your earpiece not working?"

My hand goes to my ear as the princess stands casually in front of me, her hands still cuffed behind her back. "It's been silent," I lie. "I think there might be a malfunction. I'll have to take it down to the office and trade it out for a new one. Have you been trying to reach me?"

Noah's brow wrinkles. "Only just now," he says. "Prince Albert and Isabella have been located. The bomb scare was just a scare."

I think I hear Princess Alexandra snort.

Noah looks at the princess. "Is she in ... handcuffs?"

Suddenly, the other door to the library swings open and the king enters, trailed by Prince Albert and Isabella, all of whom stop short when they see us. Bowing, I nearly choke when the princess says, "Well, father, I would curtsey, but you see, I'm afraid I'd fall over, since my hands are cuffed behind my back."

"Why on Earth is my daughter in handcuffs?" the king bellows, quickly turning around. "Shut that door. The last thing I need is one of the members of the press to catch wind of this. Please tell me that Alexandra was not arrested and brought back here in that state?"

"Yeah, Father, I was totally just arrested at your engagement party," the princess says sarcastically. "One of the royal attorneys will be here any minute now."

"What's going on?" the king asks.

"Perhaps you'd care to explain, James?" The princess looks over her shoulder at me, a knowing smile on her lips.

I shrug nonchalantly. "I cuffed the princess for her own safety," I tell them, reaching into my pocket for the handcuff key. "So that she wouldn't escape in the middle of a bomb scare."

For a second, everyone is quiet, and I think that my explanation might be the lamest attempt at explaining anything away in the history of shitty explanations.

But the King just nods. "Good thinking, good thinking," he murmurs. "I like your take-no-risks attitude. The media is always looking for a scandal."

Then he turns to leave the library.

"Yeah, good thinking, bodyguard," the princess says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's exactly as if you were trying to avoid a scandal."

"I could still lose these handcuff keys," I warn.

Isabella stares at us. "Why wouldn't you just cuff her to something?" she wonders. "Like a radiator."

"A radiator?" Alexandra asks.

"That's the first thing I thought of. Or you could cuff her to yourself," Isabella muses. "That would really make a lot more sense than cuffing her arms behind her back, wouldn't it?"

Prince Albert clears his throat, his eyes on me. "I'm sure that he was only trying to keep my sister safe, and nothing more than that," he says, his tone a warning.

Yeah, that's it. Keeping her safe.

"He's Mr. Safety," the princess says loudly. "Mr. Rules, Mr. Safety, Mr. Predictable."

Prince Albert laughs. "You might want to throw away the handcuff keys after all," he recommends. "Seriously, it looks like she hasn't learned her lesson."

"Shut up, Albie," the princess says, suddenly feistier than she was a moment ago. She looks at me. "Will you uncuff me already? Why do you all keep staring at me? Honestly, you'd think none of you had ever seen me in handcuffs before."

"You've been in handcuffs before?" Isabella squeaks.

"Color me not surprised," I murmur as I unlock the princess' cuffs. My fingertips linger on the inside of her wrist for slightly too long to be appropriate. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought I heard her gasp, but when I let her out of the cuffs, she gives me a frosty look.

"I'm going to my room, now. Alone. As in 'Do Not Disturb'. Does anyone have any objection to that?"

Prince Albert laughs, shaking his head as he puts his hands up. "I think we're all perfectly fine with you going to your room, Alex."

She lets out a frustrated groan, and I try not to smile smugly because I know exactly why she's as frustrated as she is right now. It's all because of me.

I wait until the others leave before I go to Alexandra's room – casually, like I'm scheduled to stand post. The bodyguard on duty is only too happy when I tell him to take a break because I'm relieving him.

I buzz the doorbell to her room. She doesn't immediately answer. Pausing for a minute and glancing down the hallway, I verify that no one is around before speaking into the intercom. The system is electronic, a camera outside of her bedroom that transmits so she can see who's there. There are no cameras in the non-public areas of the palace, at the king's request – he never liked the idea – which is good, because otherwise I'd be in a lot of trouble. "I know you can see me, princess," I say. "And I know you're in there. And if not, well, then I'll have to clear the room to make sure you haven't run off someplace in the palace."

It's a few minutes before she pulls the door to her bedroom suite open wide.

I nearly choke.

In fact, my reaction is even worse than that. I think I do one of those expressions straight out of an old-school cartoon where the character's eyes bug out and its jaw drops and its tongue rolls out of its mouth and falls to the ground where it unrolls like a red carpet.

At least, that's the way I feel right now, looking at her.

Princess Alexandra is standing there in the middle of her doorway wearing absolutely nothing.

She's absolutely stark-fucking naked. And she's breathtaking. She's the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen in my life, standing there with her hand resting on her hip and her hip jutted out to the side.

My eyes trail up her body, up her lithe legs to her smooth,

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