Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Penelope

" I like the looking glass," he rumbles. "I'm going to fuck you in front of it."

For only the second time in my life, I conclude that I have bitten off more than I can chew in the barbarian king.

Former barbarian king, I correct, now my betrothed.

I half expect to be mounted on the cold marble floor, but no, he is a barbarian, and they are not intimidated by the immense weight of a giant, gilt-framed mirror. I stand gawking as he hefts it out of the bathing room and into the bedroom, propping it against the wall to the left of the bed.

I follow, watching as he sets it to his liking.

"I'm going to fuck you in front of the looking glass in this fancy bed," he explains, like his intentions are not already clear.

My sore pussy clenches. Maybe I should have insisted we stay in our respective rooms after all?

No, that wasn't an option. Alfred would have stormed down the corridors roaring for me.

I giggle.

His eyes narrow in a way that is hot. "I'm sorry," I say, backing up, trying not to giggle again, for his eyes hold an unmistakable gleam of calculation and lust.

He crooks his finger at me.

I think about obeying him. I really do. It would be sensible.

Alas, I do not have a sensible bone in my body. Lifting my skirts, I take off at a run.

His roar follows me as I rip open the door and, giggling wildly, take off down the corridor at a run. The pounding footsteps tell me he is in pursuit. My choice of clothing, my uncontrollable laughter, and the after-effects of his vigorous claiming all conspire against me.

His hand closes over the back of my dress. "Got you!"

I squeal with laughter, doing an abysmal job of trying to break free, and all too easily, I am tossed over his shoulder. "Release me, you barbaric alpha!"

"Not a fucking chance. You have earned yourself a spanking in front of the mirror."

A gasp arrests my attention, and I shove my hair out of my face to see a startled servant clutching their chest.

"Don't mind me," Alfred rumbles, swatting my ass before striding toward the green room. "I have a brat to tame."

"It's all perfectly fine," I call, waving the servant off lest they call for the guards.

It will not end well if Alfred's plans are interrupted by the arrival of the castle guards. But no, I recognize the servant as one who has lived here all his life and has seen his share of my mischief. More likely, he will think I am simply getting my dues.

Alfred pauses his march. A door opens and I am swung around as he closes it again. I get an upside-down view of a green room.

A snicker escapes me when I think about him bemoaning the color scheme. I have to admit it's not one of my favorite rooms, but it is one of my father's, and he always puts what he considers his highest guests in here.

I should be pleased that he considers Alfred as such. He is to be his son-by-law, so I suppose he is the highest guest.

His boots tread softly on the carpeted floor, and then my world spins again as I am dropped unceremoniously onto the bed.

I make a show of pouting, and I think about wriggling away just for the fun of it.

"You're already getting a bare-bottom spanking," he says, placing his hands on his hips. "Don't make your punishment any worse, little girl."

I nibble on my lower lip. I really wish he wouldn't call me that. It is like it has a direct line to my pussy.

"I don't think I deserve a spanking," I say.

"Well, that's not for you to decide," he replies.

Leaving me to consider my options, he kicks off his boots, unlaces his leather jerkin, and tosses it to the floor, putting broad shoulders and a wall of honed muscle on display. He reaches to undo his belt buckle while staring down at me.

The leather makes a whistling sound as he draws the belt out. I swallow. My eyes dip to the thick bulge snaking down the leg of his pants.

I don't think I'm ready for that again—and I very much want to try.

His expression turns deeply admiring as his gaze settles on my cleavage. I push out my chest, deciding a little distraction would not go amiss.

He grins... damn it, he very much knows all my little tricks.

And why is he wrapping the belt buckle into his fist and making a loop with the rest? "What are you… What are you planning?" I ask, a stammer creeping into my voice.

"I think you might need more than a spanking," he says.

There is no hope for it. I roll over and dive for the other side of the bed.

"Uf!" A big hand closes over my ankle and tugs. I fall face down in the bed, where I am dragged unceremoniously towards the end. He stops when my legs drop over the side, flips my skirt up, and tugs my panties down while I'm thrashing around.

"Gods, that is a perfect ass," he groans.

I am breathing heavily, smothered in my skirts, and have to thrust the heavy silk from my face to peer around at him.

The belt rests on the bed beside me—he cannot mean to use it on my bottom, can he?

"It seems I did not make an impression upon you last time," he says. Pinning one big hand to the center of my back, he cups my ass with the other and squeezes, making a deep rumbly purr in his chest before giving it a playful tap.

Just having his hands on me makes everything inside me come alive. I can feel myself already growing wet.

"I'm obsessed with this ass," he says, giving it another squeeze. "I have a mind to spank it. But I will do it on my terms. If you can be good and accept this, then I will only take the belt to it five times. But make no mistake, if you get up to any mischief, you will be getting ten."

My belly takes a slow, sweet tumble at the thought of the strap against my ass, even though I am confident it will sting far worse than his hand. But Alfred is also a man of his word. If he says he's going to do something, he will.

I have trained with the Raven Guild, and I am never helpless. Alfred makes me so, willingly—he wants me to submit.

I want that, too.

"There are a lot of thoughts going on in your head," he says. "If you're planning a rebellion, don't. It won't end well for you."

"Fine," I say, sounding petulant even to my own ears. "I will accept your terms."

He emits a deep chuckle.

I strain to peer back, shocked by the dark humor in his eyes. He's so handsome. So huge. I trust him never to hurt me—he will take my submission as a gift and cherish it.

His hands move away, and he stands tall and proud, his naked chest rising and falling steadily.

I rise to my hands and knees, then clamber off the bed. "How do you want to do this?"

He grins, sits at the side of the bed, and pats his lap.

I fake reluctance as I move to stand at his side. My dress is full-skirted and heavy—not the most practical clothing for being spanked.

"I like this pretty gown," he says, his big hand cupping my breast through the material. The familiar glint in his eyes is all the warning I get before he grasps the neckline and tugs it down roughly.

I gasp. There is a distinct tearing sound before my breasts are free and exposed to his lustful gaze.

"There," he says. He brushes his fingertips lightly over the underside of one breast, making me shiver. "Much better."

My nipples pucker as he continues his slow torment, using fingertips to draw circles around the heavy globes, but avoiding my nipples which makes them grow ever tauter.

My breathing turns choppy. I convince myself I do not want any more pleasure even as I push wantonly into his touch.

He smirks and lowers his hand. "Over you go, mate."

With a huff, I reach to adjust my dress neckline.

"Ah-ah." He tugs my hand away. "I like you like that."

My pussy performs a slow clench. The alpha is wicked, and damn it, how I love it.

As elegantly as I can muster, I brace myself over his lap. My breasts are crushed against his thigh. He shifts me to his liking, lifting my ass higher and bringing me forward so my breasts hang lewdly down one side.

His hand is on my bottom, stroking over the flesh. He purrs: deep, rumbly, and content in nature.

I try to blow my hair out of the way and glance to the side, only to be arrested by the vision we make.

A hot flush sweeps the entire top of my body as I watch Alfred in the mirror. He is watching himself handle me, his eyes hooded, his expression one of satisfaction that he reflects in the purr.

Only I don't recognize the woman in the mirror as me. With her flushed face, dark hair, flashing eyes, her beautiful gown all rumpled up, and her naked bottom on display. Her breasts hang down like an offering. One he accepts as he reaches to toy idly with her nipple.

I moan, unable to tear my gaze away. I know he is going to spank me, for he stops playing with my breasts, puts his hand in the center of my back, and presses down. His other hand comes up and then lowers again to a resounding crack.

I snap my gaze away, unable to watch anymore as he peppers first one bottom cheek and then the other, with those big, broad palms. The sting is bearable at first but soon grows and encompasses the entire surface of my ass.

I bite my lip, determined not to let any sounds out. But soon, it is impossible, and I beg him to stop. He pauses, growling, and I glance at the mirror and find him staring at my ass as he cups one rosy cheek.

Only, now that he has stopped, I feel a throbbing in my core.

"Such a pretty little ass," he says. "All plump and pink. Ready for the belt."

My breath catches. I go to stammer a protest, but his fingers are moving, dipping between the slick folds, and then, with breathtaking slowness, penetrating me. I soar high on the vision of him touching me there as much as the feel of him doing it. It is like a double carnal blow. My breath stutters. I am unbearably close.

He pushes a second finger inside me and all those inner muscles, so recently used, ache even as the sweet nerves zing. I am only a little sore and think I would come quickly if only he would pet my clit. He takes his hand away, just when I feel myself teetering upon the brink, and stuffs his drenched fingers into his mouth, then sucks with a noisy rumbly purr.

"Gods, your cunt is a test," he says, and opening his eyes, he grins. "You have been a good girl taking the first part of your punishment well. I shall only use the belt five times."

I turn away, staring at the green carpet before putting my head in my hands like I might hide from this. My pussy is gushing. I feel it trickling down, and I cannot stop clenching.

I hear a faint whoosh, followed by a crack , before pain explodes across my ass.

I squeal. He pins me tightly. "That is one."

"You cannot mean?—"

Crack!

"Oh—"

Crack! Crack!

"No more." I have lost count…. Has he finished?

Crack!

The belt drops with a clatter against the floor, and he stuffs his three fingers inside me.

It is not entirely pleasurable, but I still arch up and cry out. He thrusts his fingers in and out wetly, making the most filthy, debauched sounds. His other hand is on my breast again, his fingers rolling my nipple roughly.

"Come, little mate. Come all over my fingers like the good girl you are."

I squeal out as my pussy clamps tightly over his fingers in sweet rhythmic waves. He thrusts his fingers in and out roughly. When I start twitching because it becomes oversensitive, he brings his thrusting to a stop. His fingers slide out to pet my bottom, wet and sticky, pinching it. It's all I can do to breathe—lying limp over his muscular thighs and not knowing who I am.

"There. That's my good girl," he says. "I'm so pleased with you." He gently turns me over and sits me on his lap to face the mirror. Taking my chin in his hand, he turns me towards it. "Look at yourself. Look at my beautiful mate."

I am reluctant to look and unexpectedly shy, but he is holding my chin, and I feel compelled to obey him. And so I do.

I am so tiny before him, like a little doll on his lap. My beautiful dress is torn at the bodice. My breasts are full, swollen, and exposed, my nipples hard and red. My skirt is shucked up, and with my legs spread wide over his, I can see a distinct glisten on the tops of my thighs.

He cups both my breasts, toying with them.

I am caught up in it now, watching the huge alpha put his big hands on me, pinching my nipples and squeezing my breasts together. My jaw hangs slack, and I pant with need, watching the huge, dominant, handsome male.

His lips find the side of my throat, and he nips against my flesh over a mark he already put there.

I shiver, lost in the vision of the stranger with the flushed face and bright eyes as she lets the barbarian fondle her however he might choose.

"Please," I say. "Please, I need your cock."

"As my princess commands," he says. His hands lower, fumbling between us, and then he lifts up enough to shove his pants down to his knees. His cock springs free. I am joggled about again as he kicks his pants down his legs and away.

Now he is naked beneath me, and I am still in my ruined gown, sitting on his lap facing the mirror. This time, his hard cock is nestling between the lips of my pussy. He is huge all over, but especially there. His cock points straight up, hard, flushed, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

How can that possibly fit inside me?

I rock against his hot, firm flesh, moaning as it slides against my sensitive clit. "Oh, that feels good."

He brushes my hair over my shoulder to give himself better access and nips at the side of my throat again. "Put it where you need it, princess."

I wrap my fingers around his cock, and with one hand braced against his knee, I lift myself a little. Only he is huge, and a sob of frustration escapes me as I shake, trying to get him where I need.

His hands lower to my waist, and he lifts me up. I push his cock back, and it snags my entrance.

"Brace yourself," he says. "I am going to let go."

I am wet and slick. He is, too. But I am also not ready, and when he releases me, I sink nearly half the way down.

I cry out. I am sore inside, and yet it feels unbearably good.

"Ride me," he commands. "Use me. Take your pleasure on my cock. I am yours. Your servant, princess. Do with me as you will."

His words are a taunt, but also a dare: one that fills me with a sense of power.

I stare back at the princess in the mirror, with her torn dress and her legs spread wide around the dominant male. Her mate's cock is lodged in her pussy, stretching her open in the most obscene of ways.

That princess is me.

My legs tremble, as do my arms, but I am determined to have my reward and slowly lower myself onto him, filling myself, taking him all the way to the knot.

We both groan. His eyes are hooded as he watches what I do. One big hand cups my breast, pinching the nipple. The other slides around the front, his fingertips sliding back and forth over my sensitive clit. I jerk.

"Ride me," he repeats, sliding both hands up to cup my breasts.

I lift and lower, repeat, soon finding a rhythm that has me panting and crying with pleasure as I ride his hard cock.

"Fuck, yes," he says. "That's my filthy little girl, taking her pleasure on a barbarian's cock. Look at you, using me well. Your filthy wet pussy, sliding up and down my dick. Do you want my seed, princess? Do you want me to fill you all up?"

His hands go to my hips. He's doing this as much as me now, lifting me up and dropping me down onto his cock. My breasts bounce around. Bodies slap together. Between my spread thighs, I see his heavy, potent balls swinging with the thrusts.

"It's too deep," I say as the head of his cock begins to pound ruthlessly against the sensitive place inside.

I am going to come. I cannot possibly abstain. The vision before me of the tiny princess being ravaged by the big, muscular barbarian, her flushed face, her pussy being pounded from below, and the glint of savage determination in his face conspire to send me soaring.

I come with a squeal. He growls and slams deep, and I feel the hot flood inside as he comes. His knot is pulsing at my entrance, so close to being inside me.

"I need your knot," I beg.

He growls again, grinding me deeper, but not yet deep enough. "Naughty girl. I could hurt this poor beta pussy, if I knot you now." His thick fingers find my clit, petting it without mercy, making me clench and grip him.

"Oh, please!" I come, shuddering and twitching and losing all command over my body.

He holds me to him, his arms wrapping around me gently, his touch soothing against my burning skin.

"You are perfect," he says, his voice a low growl next to my ear. "My perfect mate, whom I love well."

His words find a sensitive place in the center of my chest. My heart is pounding from pleasure but also from this declaration of love.

I open my eyes, meet his in the mirror, and feel love growing inside me for him, too.

His grin turns lazy. "I like this looking glass very much. I am going to get one for every fucking wall."

"You can get them fitted to the ceiling," I say, thinking of the scandalous gossip I overheard once.

Only when he chuckles do I realize what I just said.