Tulip Princess Read online

  She tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he held her still. “Let go of me. What are you laughing at? Damn it, I mean it, Greek, I—mmmfff!”

  He cut her babbling short with his mouth. It took a few seconds of resistance before she had her arms around him again, had her luscious body curved into his. Andreas moaned and gripped her hair once more, using his lips and tongue to posses her, prove he wouldn’t be toyed with. She tasted amazing, and he spent some time exploring her reactions to his kiss. A few moments of blissful lip to lip, and he forced himself to stop, caressed her face, and spoke.

  “Let’s go.” He left her standing in the middle of the front room. If she really wanted to see what he meant earlier, she’d follow him down the hall. What he’d do when she did so remained still a mystery, even to him. Ignoring the pulsing need to sling her over his shoulder, he pushed the door to his dungeon open, turned around, and crooked his finger at the beautiful woman still standing in the room where he’d left her.

  Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside, confident she’d follow him. If she didn’t, he would pick her up and carry her in there. The sound of her heels tapping across his hardwood floors then stopping at the door made him turn, arms over his bare chest. Dried sweat and something resembling nervousness made his nipples harden. And if it were possible, his cock got even harder at the sight of her, standing in the door of the room where he planned to change her world forever. He narrowed his eyes.

  “Come in.” He swept a hand around the lavish playroom. Her gaze moved over the various set ups—the bed, the cross, the table with handcuffs, a large wooden box that held any number of toys, restraints and paddling equipment. He snagged a lighter from a bedside drawer and lit candles, throwing the room into flickering relief, then simply stood, watching her take it all in. She worried the ring in her lip and rubbed one arm.

  “Okay, I’ve seen it. Kinky. But classy. Nice work, Greek. I’ll go now.” But she didn’t move. He blew out a puff of air and tried to get himself under control. If he weren’t careful, he’d scare her. This had to go slowly, or it wouldn’t work. It still might not. He hadn’t encountered anyone so headstrong in a long while. He shifted his weight, spread his legs, and let her see the erection tenting his shorts. Her eyes locked on it and the tip of her tongue darted out. It nearly made him drop to his knees. He frowned, unhappy with his internal response to her.

  “Is this why you came here tonight, Lale?’ He put a hand on himself and rubbed through the fabric. “Because I can accommodate you. The thing you have to remember is—” He reached in and drew his cock out. “I get to say how.”

  She nodded, but before he could say another word, she crossed the room and had her soft hand on his cock, lips on his. He moaned, and grasped her neck. Sweeping his tongue into her sweet mouth, he reveled in the hard metal feel yet tender sensations inside. Her hand encircled his head, her thumb running across the fluid already pearled there and his hips bucked. Her other hand cupped his balls, traveled further down, stroking beneath them. She released him and broke away from his lips in one movement and went down on her knees. Shit, this is not how I…oh, dear Lord…. He grasped her hair as she swallowed him all the way down. The tip of his cock bumped the back of her throat once before she took him all. “Ah, Lale, Lale,” He closed his eyes and fucked her mouth, lost in the moment. He could smell her—smell her sex and need. It swirled around him, making him grunt with frustration. This is my room, my house, my…oh, hell…. The base of his spine tingled and his brain engaged, locking in on a monster orgasm—a sweet release both physical and mental, that he hadn’t truly experienced in years, in the hands of this incredible woman. But behind that, anger, and fear—fear that he’d fall once again for someone who would use him and anger at himself for losing his tightly wound control.

  With a massive effort, he pulled his cock out of her lovely mouth and yanked her to her feet. Her swollen lips and lusty eyes were too much to bear. He clenched his eyes shut, then opened them and growled. “No. This is my room. I call the shots.”

  Her gaze took on a defiant edge. Good. This I can deal with. Keeping one hand around her arm, he tugged his shorts back up, hissing at the deep ache in his balls. Get a grip on yourself, man. Otherwise, you’re going to let her dominate you? Not likely.

  “What? You didn’t like that?” Her jaw stayed clenched.

  “Oh, I liked it all right. But I’ll tell you when I want it. For now.” He walked her over to the custom table that doubled as his spanking bench. The dark walnut frame gleamed, and the removable mattress and restraints at each corner and in the middle made her frown and worry that lip piercing again. He tried to stay calm and focused. “Take off your shirt and bra. Leave your skirt and shoes on. And bend over this table, holding your arms out.” She stared at the table then at him with disbelief.

  “No fucking way.” She muttered at the floor. “I told you didn’t….”

  “Bend over it now, Princess.” He used his most commanding voice. “I promise you it will be worth it.” It worked. He licked his lips as she huffed and puffed, but proceeded to strip out of her shirt and bra. His breath caught at the utter magnificence of her full breasts. They were tipped with dark chocolate-colored, rock hard nipples. She leaned over the table that accommodated a six-foot-six-inch Master and his cock, and held her hands out.

  “Now what?” Her tone remained a little too sassy for his taste. He strolled slowly over to the other side of the table and wrapped a thin leather tie around her wrists. She glared at him. He patted her head, ran a finger down her face, then made his way back to her backside. Putting a hand on the smooth skin of her ass, semi-exposed thanks to her short skirt, he sighed. Oh God, this was going to be rough. Mainly on him. He ran his hand down one long, smooth thigh, then back up. Using both hands, he caressed her hips, gripped her waist, and ground his painfully erect rod against her nearly bare bottom.

  She wiggled and arched her back. When he brought his palm down hard against the skin of her left ass cheek, she screeched in protest and tried to sit up. He stayed pressed against her, kept one hand on her upper back, immobilizing her enough to gauge her true reaction. When she didn’t cry out or struggle, he did it again. The smack of skin on skin made him shiver in anticipation. She only whimpered that time, so he moved his other hand to her hair, twining his fingers in it and holding on tight. He spanked her again, and again, just hard enough to make noise, not enough to make it truly hurt. That wasn’t the goal tonight. Each time, she grew quieter until he finally stopped. Their combined ragged breathing echoed in the room. Her incredible heart-shaped ass glowed red, finger marked and sexy as hell.

  He gulped, knelt behind her, and pressed his lips to the angry skin. She moaned and sniffled. “That hurt,” she mumbled. He looked up to assess her reaction and smiled at the sight of her with her head turned, eyes closed, but with a calm face. He reached under the sorry excuse for a skirt and hooked a finger in her thong.

  “Don’t ever wear these again,” he growled. With a quick flick of his wrist, the flimsy fabric ripped and fell down around her ankles. He stepped back, took in the amazing sight. “Spread your legs more, I want to taste.” He could barely hear his own whisper. She shifted and did as he said. When he knelt and dipped his tongue into her already dripping pussy, tasted her essence, lapped at her delicate pink lips, just like the petals of her namesake flower, he realized he had found the one. He heard her groan when he took the tiny ball that pierced her clit between his teeth and tugged slightly. God help him, he had to have her, all of her. He’d put in the effort. It would be worth it. And so far, she seemed amenable to the new experiences.

  “Fuck me,” she mumbled, arching her hips up more. He stopped what he was doing, with reluctance and stood, watching her juices drip down one smooth thigh. His body heated up at the sight. He put a hand on his cock, which twitched and jerked in anticipation. “Please, Andreas. Please make me come. I can’t…I haven’t…oh, God!” She cried out when he plunged two fingers deep inside
her walls, reaching up just under her pubic bone. His fingers were caught tight as her velvety pussy clamped down on him. He moaned and nipped at her ass, letting her lust permeate his every pore.

  “Jesus….” The delicious girl squirmed as he drew his fingers out, shoved them in again, and again, barely stroking her G-spot then retreating. He lapped at the sweat pooling in the small of her back, kept his lips on her skin, unwilling to break contact with her. He realized his hips were thrusting involuntarily and clamped down on the need to blow in his shorts.

  Keeping his fingers moving, he leaned over her back. “I want you to come, Lale, all over my fingers.” He bit her earlobe. The smell of her surrounded him and he loved it; it made him dizzy and nearly incapacitated. But he swallowed hard and stayed focused.

  “No,” her muffled voice demanded. “I want you inside me. I can’t come like this, I…oh….” He shifted his angle so his thumb pressed against her asshole as he stroked her G-spot again with two fingers. Not for the first time, he acknowledged having large hands helped as a football player, but mostly as a useful tool when making women climax. Her pussy flexed, spasmed, got wetter and he grinned into her shoulder, biting down, unable to resist.

  “There you go, my Tulip. I feel it, no? Just let it go, let me have it.”

  “Please, please just fuck me. Use your cock. I want it so bad.” Her lovely ass tilted up once again as she pleaded with him. He hissed when she used her muscles to clench him once more, imagining it clasped around his shaft.

  He removed his dripping fingers, put them in his mouth before using that hand to spank her once more. “Stop begging.” He growled when she squealed. “I’ll give you what you want. But you don’t ask for it. I give it to you willingly.” He grabbed a condom from the table’s small drawer, his eyes widening as she spread her legs further. Ah, God, those shoes. He might have to fuck her in them every time, simply to relive this moment.

  Something gnawed at his brain, told him to hold back, to stop. To make her come how he wanted her to come first and not give in to his body’s need to be enveloped by hers. Danger signs flashed in the logical part of his mind, but were drowned out by his neglected libido. “You want it hard, Lale? ‘Cause that is how you’re gonna get it.” He grunted and shoved into her, relishing the sensation of her extreme tightness around his thick rod. She cried out then moaned when he got serious with his rhythm.

  He gripped her hips and pressed all the way in. She looked up and locked eyes with him in the mirrored wall opposite them. Her red, tear-streaked face glowed with eagerness. She propped up on her elbows and matched him thrust for thrust, using her hips to slam back against him over and over.

  “Oh hell, I’m gonna….” The most exquisite feeling he’d ever experienced roared through him and lights flashed across his vision. She leaned her head back and he grabbed her hair, used it to fuck her harder, pull her against his body. She lifted up enough so he could see her breasts jiggle each time he slammed into her. Her eyes were closed, mouth open and when she clamped down hard on his cock, he grunted in surprise.

  “Ahhh…dear God…Andreas!” His entire body contracted and clenched at the sound of his name on her lips when she came. He roared into the room as his vision dimmed and his hips bucked uncontrollably. The most beautiful and perfect climax gripped him as he spilled what seemed like a gallon of fluid into the condom. Dear God, had he just done that? Just let her call the shots? Oh, fuck me, who cares, it was worth it. His hips wouldn’t stop. The odd sensation of wanting to stay inside her forever made him shiver as the familiar fear/anger combo took over.

  He let go of her hair, reached down, and untied her bond. She kept cooing and twitching. He put a hand on her neck and gently drew her up so her back pressed against his body. Sweat slicked her breasts as he cradled them in his hands, as his lips fluttered over her shoulder and neck. She took a deep breath then shifted forward so his cock slipped out of her. “Mmmmm…amazing indeed, Greek.” That tone—sassy and unacceptable—was back. He opened his eyes and glared at her in the mirror.

  She disentangled from his embrace and pulled her skirt down. His chest tightened. Shit. He should not have let her do that. Should not have let her tell him what to do. But he wanted it, so badly so…oh hell, back to square one.

  He pulled off the condom and tossed in the bin nearby. Tucking himself back in his shorts, he gazed at her, trying to keep his face neutral.

  “Well,” she fluffed her hair, “Thanks and all. I guess we can at least credit Madame Eve for an amazing fuck, eh my lovely, large, forbidden one?” He heard her voice shaking under the smartass words. He had to act now. One chance to get this thing to go his way. Back under his control. He made a decision then—one he knew would be life changing for them both—but with a relief born of years spent seeking something just like the woman standing in front of him, with that incredible well-fucked look in her eyes.

  “Oh, we’re gonna thank her for more than that I assure you, Turk.” He stepped forward and jerked her up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She screeched and clawed at his back.

  “Put me down, you fucking pig! I’m done. You had your fun. You got off, now let me go!” She pounded on him, but he barely sensed it. Her heels were dangerously near his eyes though, so he yanked them off her feet and tossed them over into the corner before he flung her unceremoniously onto the large bed, pinning her flailing arms and legs with his large body. She hissed and spit like a cat having a temper tantrum. “Get the fuck off me, God damn it! I’m done! I will not be your slave! Let…me…go….” The last came with a wad of spit that hit his cheek and dropped onto the silky duvet.

  He calmly pulled the rope restraints from the upper corners of the bed and tied her wrists, then secured her ankles. He had heard about this sort of reaction, but never seen it, fighting her urge to submit, as her natural need for control asserted itself. But his need dominated. He’d flexed it a lot more times than she had. He’d win this. And he still believed it would be worth the fight. He wiped his face then tied a blindfold over her eyes. She stopped squirming and cursing, but her chest heaved in anger and he saw tears slip from beneath the blindfold.

  “Shh….” He ran a careful hand down her face. “Shh…my little wildcat…it’s okay.”

  “Fuck you. Ahhh!! Get me out of here! Help!” She arched up and twisted in the restraints. Her voice cracked with emotion. He stayed calm, letting it soothe her as he knew it would.

  “You are okay. Stop twisting around in the ropes though. You’ll get burned.”

  “I am not okay and you are so dead once I tell....”

  He chuckled and pressed his lips to hers. She kept them thin and closed against him. He persisted, licking and caressing, using his hands to cradle her face, stroke her neck. Finally, she calmed and parted her lips just enough….

  “Fucking hell!” He jumped up, hand over his mouth, tasting blood where she’d bitten him.

  “Let me go. I mean it.”

  He gazed at her, restrained, immobile, breasts heaving in anger at him. He realized he could untie her, let her walk, and they’d continue to play these annoying games of cat and mouse. He wanted more. He needed her and she him. Pure and simple. But she had to come to this on her own, in his space, at his bidding, or it would never work. The scent of her lust made him wince and resist the urge to let her go and fuck her again and again. Yeah, this one will be worth it.

  “You need a little time to yourself, I think. Remember, nobody likes a temper tantrum.” Just before he put noise-cancelling headphones over her ears, he brushed a lock of hair off her face and behind her ear. “Call my name, Lale. But only when you really and truly need me to come to you. I promise on all I hold sacred you are safe here. You are safe now.” Then he brushed her cheek with his lips and walked out, leaving the door open just in case.

  ***

  Lale could not catch her breath. Her whole body blazed with anger, lust, need, and a strange sense of rightness that warred in her psyche. Her wrists a
nd ankles were chafed from fighting the ropes. Her throat ached from screaming and yelling. And her pussy had never, ever felt so good. The man had ripped an orgasm from her very soul—had been about to with his fingers and tongue. But that cock—dear God, that incredible cock. When she’d had it in her hand, in her mouth earlier, it had been amazing—as beautiful and thick as she had ever seen or experienced. She sighed. The sensory deprivation position he’d put her in was not so bad really, once she got used to it. When she let it envelop her, the pure quiet was like a balm to her rattled brain. She screeched out a weak help and let me go so he’d think she still didn’t like it, as her mind drifted back to her hotel room earlier that night.

  A bright, visceral fury had gripped her when she’d stomped down the hall from the elevator after their date. She had no name for it. Blaming the Greek’s bossy, bullshit attitude, she’d cursed, stomped around, and broke a really nice vase when she’d flung it against the wall. She stared at the mess of fresh flowers, water, and hopefully glass not crystal darkening the carpet, sobbed and dropped into a leather chair, unsure why the tears wouldn’t stop. Her entire being had yearned for the huge, gorgeous man she’d been such a bitch to earlier. But her brain would not let her engage with him. There was no way in hell she’d be “dominated,” no matter how he prettied it up with words about trust and caring.

  She’d leaned back, tears drying on her face and stared at the ceiling. When her phone had buzzed with a text, she’d tensed. Elle, checking in on her date, no doubt. How in God’s name could she explain she’d failed at the supposedly magical dating service? This brought on a fresh bout of tears, but Lale stood and slammed back the rest of the wine she’d started earlier.