I removed my hold and stepped back from him. “Beg.”
We locked gazes again.
It was a thrilling, silent battle.
“You truly are something else,” he murmured, “No one has ever spoken to me that way.”
“Good.” I was no longer just a passive participant in our new marriage; I was the one holding the reins, commanding the situation with a newfound assertiveness.
And then, he steadied his voice and spoke, “Please. . .Queen.”
I smirked.
“Ibegof you. With every cell in my heart, mind, and soul, to please, get on your knees, lovely, smart queen, and please open your perfect mouth, Queen and. . .with all respect and all the love, please put my cock deep in your mouth.”
I crossed my arms over my breasts. “Hmmm.”
He sneered. “Hmmm? That’s your answer.”
“Tell me I’m the boss.”
Instead of deepening that sneer, a smile played on his wicked lips. “You are the boss, Princess.”
“Queen.”
He sneered a little and then murmured, “Queen.”
“Who’s in control?”
“Goddamn it!”
“Gianni.”
He groaned. “You.”
“And do you like when your queen is in control?”
“Do you not see my cock? It’s about to fucking detonate.”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes. . .Queen.”
I curved my lips into a big smile. “Now was that so bad?”
He grumbled.
“And what have we learned from all this?” I closed the distance between us and brushed my fingers against the cold metal of his chains. His eyes followed my hand's movement and then slowly met mine.
He scowled. “We've learned that the queen does not understand mercy.”
“Or perhaps we've learned that sometimes the king needs to know his place.”
His eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised by my bold statement. “This is going to be quite a marriage.”
“It is.”
“Now get on your knees and suck me off, Princess.”
