Page 72 of I'm sorry, Princess

I shouldn’t feel like this, shouldn’t be aroused, but I hope I’ll forgive me for what I’m about to let this man do to me.

He presses the gun against my clit, firm and deliberate, and my head falls back instinctively, my eyes rolling shut as a gasp escapes my lips. The sensation is electric, forbidden, and utterly consuming.

Slowly, he moves the gun, up and down, up and down, dragging pleasure through my body with each deliberate stroke. My breathing becomes ragged, and I can’t hold back my moans anymore. The sound spills out, raw and uncontrollable.

I feel half-possessed, half-fucked by the weapon in his hand, and I’m helpless to stop it.

Then, with a swift motion, he pulls me onto his lap again, this time pressing my back firmly against his chest. His strength, his control, surrounds me completely.

In one quick tug, my dress braces slide down, and in a fraction of a second, my breasts are exposed. Cool air brushes against my skin, sending a jolt through me as my nipples harden. His hand is already there, rough and possessive, squeezing my breast and caressing my nipple with agonizing precision.

The gun is still there, pressed against my clit, moving in the same maddening rhythm. Up and down. Up and down.The pleasure builds fast, sharp and overwhelming, threatening to drown me.

I stop caring, about the room, about anyone who might hear us. My moans grow louder, uninhibited now, echoing into the charged air around us.

He has me completely, utterly under his control, and I’m powerless to stop it, or to want it to stop.

“Fuck, I missed those little cries,” he growls, his voice rough and low, sending a shiver down my spine. His lips find my ear, teeth grazing the sensitive skin before biting it just hard enough to make me gasp.

He grabs my chin, turning my head so I’m facing him, and his mouth crashes against mine. The kiss is feral, hungry, his wet tongue invading my mouth without hesitation. He explores every inch, licking and tasting me like he’s reclaiming what’s his. My lower lip isn’t spared either, he sucks on it greedily before biting down, hard, as if punishing me for something I don’t even remember doing.

His hand moves faster between my legs, relentless in its rhythm, while the cold, unyielding press of the gun against my clit intensifies, dragging cries and gasps from my lips that I can’t control.

“Did you enjoy that little show you put on?” he demands, his voice dark with anger, his teeth nipping at my lip again as he speaks. His free hand moves down, delivering a sharp slap to my pussy that makes me yelp, the sting mingling with the pleasure already building inside me.

Another moan spills from my lips, loud and unrestrained. I can’t stop it, don’t even want to.

“Do you like watching me lose my mind?” he growls, his words almost a snarl as he presses the gun harder against my clit. The pressure sends a jolt of pleasure straight through me, sharp and electric, and a loud, broken moan tears from my throat.

I can’t take it anymore.

The need coils tight in my core, unbearable and consuming. My body trembles, and I know I’m seconds away from breaking completely.

“I need to come,” I whisper, my voice shaking with desperation, my mind clouded with nothing but him and the chaos he’s made of me.

“Answer me,” he demands, his voice rough and unrelenting as his hand comes down sharply, slapping my pussy again. The sting sends a jolt through me, making me gasp. His grip tightens on my jaw, forcing me to look directly into his eyes. They’re filled with frustration and a dangerous intensity that only fuels the fire building inside me.

The denial of my orgasm has me trembling, desperation clawing at me. My hips buck instinctively, seeking more, grinding against the top of his gun as it presses against my clit. But it’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough.

“I didn’t know,” I whisper, my voice breathless and shaky.

He smirks darkly, his gun trailing along me again, teasing and torturing, keeping me on the edge but refusing to push me over.

“You didn’t know what?” he growls, his tone low and cutting as he hooks a finger around my thong. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulls it aside, exposing me completely. The cool air kisses my wet, sensitive skin, making me shiver.

“I didn’t know you cared,” I say, my hips moving of their own accord, grinding slowly against his erection. He’s hard as a rock beneath me, and I can feel how much he wants this, how much he wants me. It has to be painful, and the thought makes my need for him burn even hotter.

“I don’t,” he replies flatly, his voice devoid of emotion, his gaze unyielding.

Then, without warning, he thrusts the gun inside me. The cold, unrelenting metal presses deep, and my body jerks as it hits the perfect spot, the spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.

He moves it faster, deeper, each motion precise and unrelenting. The barrel brushes my G-spot with every thrust, sending pleasure coursing through me like a live wire.

The reality of what he’s doing, the danger, the sheer audacity, only makes me wetter, the thought igniting something primal inside me. With a simple flick of his finger, a single click, he could end me, and yet here I am, giving in completely to the sensation, the risk, the overwhelming pleasure.

My head falls back, my eyes rolling as my body responds to his every movement, helpless against the building tide. The gun thrusts inside me, merciless and perfect, and I know I won’t last much longer.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his voice rough and raw, the way he says baby sending a shockwave through me.