Taming Her Beast Read online

  “Good day, good sir, my lady,” he says with a short bow.

  Millie laughs in delight. And goddamn, that sound alone makes it worth it. It’s like a song, sweet and melodic as it rises up inside of me.

  “Have you perchance got your booking reference?” the man asks.

  “We haven’t made a booking,” I tell him.

  He does a double-take as though I’ve just told him I don’t have lungs. “No booking, good sir? This is most unusual. I’m afraid all of our rooms are taken … everything below the Royal Suite, that is.”

  “The Royal Suite,” I muse, turning to Millie.

  She looks downright queenly standing there in that form hugging dress, her curves making me want to grab, possess, own.

  She’s a queen, yeah, but she’s a dirty queen who knows how to please her man.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think we should ask how much this Royal Suite is before you do anything stupid.”

  The way she talks, it’s like we’re a couple. And far from making me want to sprint out of the room and get the hell out of here as fast as I can, it makes me want to hug her close, thank her for looking out for me.

  We’re a team.

  “The Royal Suite is three thousand and six hundred dollars per night if you please.”

  Millie’s eyebrows shoot up and she glares at me.

  “Markus, you can’t—”

  “We’ll take it,” I say, reaching for my wallet. “If you please …”

  Millie giggles, despite the evident shock warping her features. The receptionist barely misses a beat as his expression shifts from disbelief to delight, bowing shortly as he takes my card and runs it through the machine. Soon we have our keys and we’re free to head toward the executive elevator that leads directly to our suite.

  “Elevators don’t seem very medieval, eh?” I joke as we walk.

  “Markus,” she murmurs, tugging on my hand. “You didn’t have to do that. That’s a lot of money.”

  “You’re worth it,” I tell her passionately. “You’re worth a hundred, a thousand times that. No, fuck that. That’s not even fair. Because I couldn’t put a price on you, Millie.”

  We stop outside the elevator. I use the key to engage it, and then we wait as the faux-brick walls slide away to show the actual elevator doors. We walk inside, Millie letting go of my hand and worrying hers at each other.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I’m just not used to people spending that kind of money on me,” she murmurs. “I don’t want you to bankrupt yourself, you know.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I told you that I’ve got enough money that we could stay here all year if we wanted to?” I say, tone neutral.

  I dislike it when people brag about money, but the last thing I want is for Millie to stress all evening about how I’m affording this.

  “Really?” she gasps. “How? God, that was rude, but …”

  “Rude?” I laugh, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and hugging her close, inhaling the sweet womb laden scent of her. Primal thoughts try to rise up and compel me to act on my primal instincts. “You’re my woman and I’m your man, Millie. There’s no such thing as rude with us.”

  “So how then?” she asks quietly.

  “I’ve made investments over the years,” I tell her. “I’ve never had a family. I’ve never had many expenses to speak of. So I put the money into real estate and businesses. I’m the shadow partner in a dozen retailers. I own fifty or so properties. I guess it was my natural extinct for … I don’t know, for self-preservation? I didn’t even think about it. It was just the right thing to do.”

  “Don’t downplay it,” she whispers, turning fully to me, giving me a fine look down her mind-fucking cleavage. “That’s amazing. That’s really impressive.”

  I shrug. “I only mentioned it so you don’t have to worry. I want your mind wholly on this tonight, on us. Can you do that for me?”

  She presses closer to me, causing her breasts to press together in her dress, making them look like invisible hands are grabbing them … like my very fucking real hands soon will be.

  The elevator doors open onto a wide open lobby area, the floors covered in overlapping fur rugs, a chandelier glittering from the ceiling, and floor to ceiling windows looking out upon the misty ocean. A piano and a glittering display cabinet sit on one side, but all I’m interested in right now is the hallway that looks like it leads to the bedroom.

  “Come on,” I snarl, sliding my hand up her thigh and that spank-me-now ass to her lower back, guiding her down the hallway. Paintings line the walls, pastoral, nature, and battle scenes, with the door to the bedroom, carved wood with two people tall. “I need you someplace private, someplace just for us.”

  “I’m ready,” she pants, twitching as though she can’t wait for me to slide her panties off and get at her bare beautiful flesh.

  I push open the door to reveal a true royal bedroom. The ceiling is high and each wall is covered in massive paintings, soothing nature scenes, a chandelier whispering its light from the ceiling, and the floor covered in so many interwoven overlapping rugs it’s impossible to count. The silk curtains are drawn, distorting the fading sunlight causing it to shimmer purple.

  But the thing I’m most interested in is the four poster bed, the curtains pinned back, the crimson sheets calling to us like a desert oasis.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Millie

  I let out a gasping moan as his powerful hand guides me toward the bed, my heart thumping, a film of anxiety stretching over the magical majesty of the moment.

  I beat it down and listen instead to the sizzling conviction of my womb, my clit tingling, my lips aching with the need to feel him against me, rubbing, teasing, pleasing.

  “Fuck, I need to see that ass,” he snarls. “Get on all fours on the bed for me, Millie.”

  Relief dances through me when I realize that he’s going to take the lead. If he wanted me to take the lead, I’m not sure I’d be able to function with the weight of my inexperience dragging me down. I do as he says, clamber onto the luxuriously soft sheets and stick my ass out, feeling my womb flame when I turn back and I catch sight of his wide eyes, captivated, aimed carnally at my twitching ass.

  “Do you have any idea how sexy that is?” he snarls.

  “This?” I tease, somehow keeping my voice from trembling, swishing my hips from side to side.

  “Yes,” he growls. “Goddamn, you’re a sexy fucking virgin, aren’t you? You know how to drive me crazy.”

  He reaches forward and grips my thigh, down low near my knee. A shiver of anxiety moves through me when I suddenly realize how sweaty I am, the place he’s touching coated in a nervous layer of it. But he just groans as he grips my flesh harder, stroking up my leg, inching closer toward my sex and my soaked panties.

  “Fuck, you even smell incredible,” he whispers. “I can scent your womb. I can scent you. How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know,” I whimper. “But that—feels—so—good …”

  He leans closer, pushes my dress up, and then grips my panties. He pulls them down slowly, making me feel every tiny movement, every shiver against my skin causing goosebumps to prickle and ache and tingle. I tremble as he works the panties beneath my knees and down my calves, finally pulling them past my heels.

  “Fuck, bend forward. Open that pretty pink hole for me.”

  His words cause another wave of wetness to riot through me as I do as he says, pushing my ass out so that the lips of my pussy spread open for him. I turn and watch him, his manhood bulging in his suit pants, his hands shaking as he grips my thigh near my pussy making me feel like screaming at him to touch me more.

  “No fair,” I murmur-moan. “I want to see you.”

  “Then be a good fucking virgin and play with yourself as I undress. Get yourself nice and wet.”

  “I’m already wet,” I moan.

  “Wetter, then,” he snarls. “Do it, Millie
.”

  I slide my hand between my legs and touch my clit, stroking it softly, and then faster when I see the way he gazes at me. As he undresses, he never takes his eyes off me, shrugging off his suit jacket and then unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a body carved of boulders and stones, all hard lines, every inch of him composed of honed flesh.

  “You sound so goddamn sexy when you moan like that. Finger your wet pussy for me.”

  I slide my middle finger into my hole, prying the wetness open and struggling to keep my eyes focused on him the entire time.

  My core flames and aches and flutters like it’s going to unleash all of its orgasms in one giant jolt, leaving me panting and unable to take anymore. So I finger myself slowly, not wanting to spend myself, yet, wanting to wait for him.

  Oh my freaking God.

  He kicks off his shoes and quickly pulls down his pants, stepping forward in full nakedness.

  I knew his manhood was big from the outline it made in his pants, but I’m not prepared for the weighty way it bobs up, ten some inches of pure fleshy pleasure, intimidating me as it hangs there wetly. Precome glistens on the end and the shaft is huge, thick, covered in veins, an absolute monster of a cock.

  “You’re so big,” I whimper.

  “I’ll go slowly … at first.” He stalks forward, standing at the edge of the bed with the weight of his massive hot cock casually resting on my ass cheek. “But first I want to make you cream just like this.”

  “Like what … Ah, ah.”

  He grabs the base of his cock and guides his engorged head to my clit, stroking it, the pressure of it causing my toes to curl and my vision to blur as I twist around to look up at him.

  His eyes are fixated on my ass and my pussy, his jaw tight as he stares, hypnotized, down at me.

  I never dreamed I could feel so wanted—no, needed.

  I never dreamed I could feel so downright sexy.

  Doors begin to open in me, slowly at first, and then they fly open, off the hinges, shattering through me with a carnal conviction.

  A whole chorus of lust and longing sparks in my pussy and making my clit tingle as he presses harder, firmer, with a dominator’s claim.

  “That’s it,” he snarls, stroking his cock over my clit so fast now it almost slips into my eager hole once or twice, painting me with his precome. “You’re so close. You’re so ready. Cream for me, Millie. Fucking cream for me now.”

  I’m forced to turn away from him when my orgasm pulses through me, starting at the end of his cock and shimmering through my body, into every part of me. It shatters into a million sizzling pieces and crackles long my skin, the heat spreading gloriously into my breasts, my fingertips, and my freaking scalp.

  I bite onto the sheets as I buck and writhe against him, my pussy tightening and releasing, tightening and releasing, over and over again as my cream slides hotly down my legs as his rock hard cock attacks my clit nonstop.

  “Fuck, fuck,” I gasp, as the orgasm passes and I’m left twitching with its aftereffects.

  “Turn over,” Markus snarls. “I want to look at you as I take you for the first time.”

  I roll onto my back and look up at him, standing at the edge of the bed bathed in the distorted light, the lines of his muscles seeming deeper for the contrasting semidarkness. His cock glimmers with precome … and my juice, I realize, as he strokes a hand from the tip to the base.

  “Your dress, your bra, off, now. But keep those sexy as fuck heels on.”

  I sit up and tear my dress over my head, giggling when he darts forward to help me with my bra, my chest suddenly carefree and airy, far more willing to let go than I ever dreamed I could be.

  When I’m freed from the hazy world of my dress – Markus tossing it to the edge of the bed along with my bra – I’m face to face with his engorged cock, so close that I can smell his precome and my juices mixed together at the tip of his pulsating length.

  I stare at it for a moment, my heart hammering, trying to tell me that I can’t do this.

  I’ll look too silly—I won’t be sexy at all.

  But then I let my womb take the reins of the moment and I lean forward, grab the base of his cock, and am rewarded with a rumbling growl from Markus. His whole body goes even tenser, his veins straining against his muscles, his entire being vibrating with his barely withheld lust.

  “F-fuck,” he snarls. “Your hand feels so goddamn perfect.”

  “What about this?” I moan, stroking up and down his slick length, loving the way he gazes down at me, his eyes moving from my bare breasts to my face to my thighs to my hand on his cock.

  I feel powerful as I stroke him, watching him closely, seeing how absolutely captivated with me he is, as though he couldn’t look away now even if he wanted to … and he definitely doesn’t want to.

  “You’re my fucking queen,” he snarls. “You’re my fucking angel.”

  I stroke him faster, savoring how solid he feels in my hand, as though any second he could erupt and cause the tension to move through him, explode out of him, touch every part of him just as my orgasm touched every part of me.

  “You better stop,” he snarls. “If you keep going, I might explode all over those big juicy tits. And even if I’d like to see them all slick and shiny with my come, I’m saving it … for that tight virgin slit. Are you ready, Millie?”

  I lean back, looking up at him, his abs tight knotted muscle, his pectorals bulging, heaving, everything about him tense and ready to go.

  “I’m ready,” I moan. “God, I’ve never been more ready.”

  “Good,” he snarls. “Because my seed can’t wait any longer.”

  He climbs onto the bed, causing the mattress to dip under his impressive weight.

  I reach up naturally – it feels like glorious autopilot – and wrap my hands around his shoulders. I grip onto the stony muscles, so solid that my nails feel as though they could snap against the surface.

  Then I smooth my hands down his back, feeling the taut muscles there too.

  He rears up like a predator, gazing down at my breasts, and then in a rush of hot breath, he surges forward and leans down to take one of my nipples into his mouth. He sucks greedily, growingly through the wetness, stroking down my body with one hand as he holds himself up with the other.

  He trickles his hands down my belly, cupping my pussy for a moment before grabbing his cock and guiding the tense length to my hole, easing it open bit by bit, sucking me indulgently every moment.

  “Fuck,” he gasps, finally letting my tingling nipple go.

  He grips his cock harder, his eyes fixated on my face as he inches slowly in, as though he wants to watch me every step of the way.

  My breath comes in frenetic pants as he slides in deeper and deeper, arching his back so that the thickness of him pushes my hole open and slowly thrusts inside of me.

  I gasp at the sensation of his huge length filling my virgin hole, pressing so that it feels like he’s inflating from inside of me, the walls of my pussy screaming and crying out in a flurry of sensations.

  Oh no, it’s happening.

  He’s too freaking big.

  My heart begins to hammer painfully at the thought.

  His cock isn’t even halfway in yet and …

  But then my doubts are washed away as a soothing hot balm moves through the lower half of my body, as though my womb has cast a spell on me, getting ready to take his seed.

  I gasp when my pussy flourishes and opens for him, a rush of tingling wetness attacking my lips and my clit, my hole opening greedily now as he pushes in deeper, and deeper until he’s buried up to the hilt inside of me.

  I open my eyes, realizing I slammed them shut at some point.

  Markus stares at me like a hunter who’s finally claimed what’s rightfully his, his obsidian-silver hair flecked with sweat, his eyes pinning me in place with their blistering intensity.

  “You’re so fucking tight,” he snarls. “Your pussy is so perfect. Are you ready to be fuck
ed, Millie?”

  “Y-yes,” I whimper.

  “I’ll take it slow at first,” he snarls. “But soon I’ll need to take you hard and—and fast. Fuck. I need to see those juicy tits bouncing for me.”

  “These tits, baby?” I say, stunned at my own bravery as I push my breasts together, rewarded with a shimmer inside of me as his cock pulses.

  He stares at me like I’m his whole world.

  “You beautiful sex goddess,” he snarls.

  “Only for you,” I moan.

  I keep pushing my breasts together as he slides out of me slowly, making me feel every inch of his massive length. He slides in a little quicker, my walls shifting to accommodate his size.

  I begin to move in time with his thrusts, sinking into the rhythm of our lovemaking, my core blaring and sizzling, letting off fireworks of desire with each carnal thrust.

  I let my breasts go and grab onto his shoulders for purchase, grinding down the length of him as his growls grow deeper, more urgent, our gyrations growing naturally quicker as we give in to the compulsive needs of our bodies.

  I grip hard, digging my fingernails into his muscled flesh, angling down as he thrusts up.

  The silk sheets stroke up and down my back lovingly, as though he’s giving me a massage at the same time as fucking me as his woman.

  “You’re mine,” he snarls, taking me faster, the bed whining beneath his predator’s power.

  Our sexes making slapping sounds as I run my hands all over his back, feeling his sweat coated muscles, clasping on, and hugging him close.

  “Mine, mine, mine.”

  With each mine he slams into me, the head of his cock pounding into something deep inside of me, something that’s never been touched before.

  I gasp and scream and then I don’t even know what sound I make.

  It’s like an awakening, a rejoicing song that tells me I’m here, I’m alive, I deserve to experience life as other people do.

  I don’t have to be afraid anymore.