Her bodyguard, p.26
yourself a little more," he says with a grin.
"When I get out of these ties, you should watch yourself."
He sighs. "You issue so many threats, little girl, and with so little follow-through."
"You answer the question about first loves," I retort.
"That's easy," he says, stroking me again. "I've never been in love. Next question."
"You've never been in love?"
"Is that so hard to believe?" he asks. "Have you?"
"I don't believe in love."
He laughs. "Why am I not surprised?"
"I'm disappointed. I'd hate to think I'm predictable."
"You're predictable as fuck, sweetheart," he growls.
"Oh, yeah?" That's all I can come up with, because his fingers are doing their work, bringing me so close to the edge that I can taste it.
"That's right. In fact, I predict that you're going to come on my fingers," he says, dipping his head down to my clit as he strokes me faster and faster. He tongues my clit as his fingers bring me higher and higher. I'm so close, and the closer I get the more I struggle against the ties that bind me, trying to regain any semblance of control of my own pleasure. But they just cut into my skin the more I resist them. "I also predict that after you come on my fingers, I'm going to slide my cock into that pretty little cunt of yours and make you come again."
"You don't know anything about me, Max," I whisper, but then he's pressing on that spot inside me and sucking my clit into his mouth and I'm doing exactly what he just said I would do. I'm crying out his name as I come, my hips bucking against his face as my orgasm tears through me like an electric current, too strong to think about anything else except my own pleasure.
He doesn't wait for me to stop pulsing around his fingers before he pulls them from my pussy and puts them in his mouth, licking them from the base to the tips. "So fucking sweet," he notes before dipping between my legs again to bathe my pussy with his tongue, murmuring about how good I taste.
I squirm underneath his mouth, frustrated because the sensation is agonizing. "It's too much, too much," I protest, my thighs squeezing the sides of his head to get him to stop.
He just laughs, putting his mouth over my entrance and sucking hard. "Every drop of you is mine, Alexandra."
"I'm too sensitive," I tell him, whimpering.
"Good," he growls. "Think about that the next time you decide to wear a see-through dress to a club. Do it again and I'll turn you over my knee and spank your ass until you're sore. After that, I'll tie you to the bed and make you come until you can't come anymore."
I swallow a laugh because the prospect of that is hilarious and ridiculous. "A million orgasms as torture?" It's not so funny, I realize immediately, not with him between my legs right now tormenting me the way he just did. The sensations are too intense; a million orgasms would be torture.
"Try me," he growls, and he slaps my pussy lightly with his hand, sending a little shock of pain through me that makes me want more.
"I do want to try you," I tell him, giving his cock a meaningful glance. "I want to taste you."
I want to suck his cock with my wrists and ankles attached to the bed, and that desire must be written all over my face.
"You want me to take your mouth the way I did in the stable," he says slowly. "But right now like this, I'd be completely in control of you. You'd be powerless to stop me from doing whatever I wanted, from fucking your mouth exactly how I want to. You understand that."
I nod, desire rushing through me. I didn't know how much I wanted exactly this before. I couldn't have known how much I'd want it.
He lets out a low moan, moving to straddle me, positioning himself so his cock is near my lips but not quite touching. Pre-cum glistens on his thick head, beading at the tip. "Do you trust me?" he asks.
I nod, even as my heart stops beating. He's right that having my hands bound together in the stable was a whole different experience from being completely immobilized, the way I am right now.
Right now, I'm entirely his to use.
And I want him to use me for his pleasure.
I open my mouth, arching my back so I can just barely touch the tip of my tongue to his cock where pre-cum leaks from the tip. He tastes so familiar already, and the taste causes heat to surge between my legs, a nearly automatic response apparently already developing.
"Greedy little girl," he chides, but he gives me what I want. His cock slides between my lips, just a little bit at first as he tests me, but it's not long before I'm relaxing for him more and more. His hands go to my hair, threading it between his fingers, pulling and gripping me tightly as he thrusts into my mouth. At first, he takes my mouth gently, carefully, and slowly, taking his time and looking down at me, his eyes searching mine for any hint of discomfort. "Greedy for my dick, aren't you? You like me fucking your mouth like this, don't you?"
I can't do anything except moan my response, my mouth filled with him as he slides in and out. The only sounds in the room are our moans and the wetness created by his cum and my mouth.
If my hands weren't bound, if I could reach to touch him, I'd wrap my hand around his shaft and stroke the base of his cock. I would slide my fingers between my legs to touch myself, because the longer he's in my mouth the more the void between my legs becomes unbearable.
"I want to fill this greedy little mouth up with my cum, Alexandra," he groans as he fucks my mouth deeper. I force my throat to relax, to take him in as deeply as he gives it to me, and I'm strangely pleased when he begins to lose control, fucking my mouth faster as he grasps my hair tightly.
The thought of him exploding into my mouth only makes me want him more, and I moan my desire for him.
But he stops suddenly with a sharp gasp. "I want your pussy more," he declares, pulling his cock from my mouth and dismounting me. I groan my disappointment as he disappears for a moment, then returns, rolling a condom onto his length. "Are you ready for me?"
I'm aching for you.
"I'm so wet," I reply softly.
He tests me, straddling me as his fingers go between my legs. "You're so fucking wet for me all the time," he murmurs, teasing my entrance with his cock. "But right now you're soaked for this because of the way you're lying here, spread and tied up for me."
"Yes," I breathe, arching my hips as he presses against me with the head of his large cock, but he only gives in an inch, pushing inside me just barely in order to torture me. I can't wrap my legs around his waist and pull him into me. I can't slide my hands around his neck and bring him down to me.
I'm wholly powerless.
"Tell me how much you want my cock inside you, Alexandra," he demands. "Say it."
"I want …" I start, my voice drifting off.
Those are the only words I have right now.
"Beg me for it."
"Please," I say, my voice a whimper. "I want you to fuck me like this, tied up and waiting for you."
"Such a good, polite little girl. I love hearing you say please." Then plunges his cock deep inside me. I inhale sharply at the sensation, made even more acute by the way my legs are spread, by how I'm pinned to the mattress. His large cock fills me all the way up, his balls slapping against me as he begins to fuck me, slowly at first before he gains momentum. "I could keep you like this, you know. I could tie you up and keep you at my mercy, my little fuck doll to do whatever I like with."
My little fuck doll.
His words should be totally repulsive. They shouldn't make me hotter. They shouldn't send heat surging through every inch of my body. The thought of him tying me up and using me solely for his pleasure shouldn't make my pussy swell the way it does around his cock.
He feels my response, and it turns him on. He thrusts harder and deeper inside me, and I'm moaning louder and louder as he fucks me into oblivion. "You love the idea of being my little fuck doll," he says, his voice thick. "You love the idea of me fucking you whenever I want and however I want."
As soon as I speak the filthy words, I come. My orgasm is insane and happens completely without warning, overtaking me. I cry out a string of obscenities and his name over and over. My orgasm doesn't slow him down, though. He pumps into me harder, and as my muscles squeeze his cock, he finally comes with a loud groan.
We stay there like that, both of our chests heaving as we try to catch our breath for a moment. Then he reaches to untie my wrists, still deep inside me. When he pulls off the silk ties, his thumbs go to the red marks on my wrists.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his brow furrowed, concern evident on his face.
Am I okay?
I'm totally exhausted, completely spent after my body has been racked with multiple orgasms. Am I okay?
I giggle and nod. "I. Am. Fucking. Amazing."
He bursts out laughing, a whole-hearted warm sound that I haven't heard from him before. "You are fucking amazing, Alexandra," he agrees. Then he looks at me with such tenderness that I have to look away.
Max clear his throat, pulling out of me and disappearing to the bathroom, only to reappear a moment later with a warm washcloth. Meanwhile, I haven't moved an inch, not even to untie my ankles; that's how languid I feel right now.
It's an odd feeling, not wanting to move. It's totally unfamiliar.
"You look pleased with yourself," he notes as he releases my ankles from their restraints. "What's going through that head? Did you steal my wallet or something?"
"Did I steal your wallet?" I ask, barely able to suppress another burst of giggles. Oh my God, why am I giggling? Is this what good sex does to your brain? Am I suddenly going to become an airheaded bimbo? Or, worse, even: optimistic? "You do see that my ankles were still attached to the bed up until this very moment, don't you?"
"You look like you're up to something," he says, reaching between my legs with the warm cloth and cleaning me gently.
"You do realize I'm a princess," I note. "You seem to think my skills all run in the direction of criminal enterprises."
He rolls onto his side beside me on the bed, his elbow propping up his head. "You're the knife thrower," he points out. "Frankly, I expect you to be scamming casinos out of money, counting cards or something." When I hesitate for a split second, his eyes go wide. "Wait a second. Can you count cards?"
"What?! No, of course not," I protest lamely. But I can't stop laughing as he rolls on top of me and pins my wrists above my head, trapping my body underneath his.
"You're lying," he accuses me. "The card counting thing was a joke, a total shot in the dark. I didn't think you actually could count cards. But you can, can't you? I can see it on your face!"
"A princess never reveals her secrets," I tell him.
"I have ways of torturing information from my sources," he threatens, grinning as he crooks his finger and goes straight to the side of my abdomen.
I shriek as he finds the most ticklish spot before letting out a peal of hysterical giggling, punctuated by a snort. "Stop, stop, stop! You're going to make me pee!"
He stops. "Did you just snort?"
"I heard no snort," I lie, but I can't seem to stop laughing.
"You're right. It was more like an oink, I think." He makes a little pig sound.
"It was not an oink!"
"I can't believe you can count cards," he says, shaking his head and laughing. "I mean, I can, really, because it's so you. Tell me: how many Russian mobsters have you fleeced?"
I pretend to count. "More than five, less than a hundred?"
"Does anyone know that you're a secret little math genius?"
"It's not that hard," I protest. "I got bored and taught myself. I could teach you."
"Remind me to kidnap you and take you to Vegas."
"I've never been to Vegas," I tell him. "Albie went, though. That's where he met Belle, I guess."
"I haven't been either," he says.
"Then we should go sometime," I declare. The words just come right out of my mouth from nowhere. As soon as I say it, I feel my face flush warm.
What the hell am I saying? I don't do future plans and tomorrows. Of course, I also don't do this kind of thing, this lying around and talking thing.
But Max just laughs. "Vegas it is," he says. He rolls onto his back and pulls me to his chest like it's the most natural thing in the world.
So I wind up lying here like it's the most normal thing ever. I lie here with my fingers lazily wandering over his chest, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I don't have the impulse to run away.
I don't even want to run when we start talking, or when he asks me a million more questions about myself. I don't want to run when he tells me all about his life in Kentucky, about the small town where his parents still live that has one stoplight and just got a Wal-Mart, which was apparently the biggest thing to happen in the town in years. I don't want to run as he tells me about all of his childhood and high school shenanigans, growing up in a small town – like when he and his friends rearranged all of the road signs in town, or how he learned to brew gin in an actual bathtub.
I listen and laugh and I want to know more. I want to know everything about him.
And I don't want to run at all.
This entire thing is fucking crazy.
I'm lying here with Princess Alexandra in my arms, and she's lightly snoring as she snuggles up against me. I don't know what the hell I'm doing lying in the bed of a princess after spending the entire night talking and fucking … and talking some more.
Every part of me is screaming that this is the worst idea in the entire world. I'm her bodyguard, and the bodyguard who's been with her the longest now. That's my first duty, even if I haven't been her bodyguard for years.
I always do my duty. It's who I am and who I've always been, especially as a Marine. Even though I might not be active duty anymore, I'll always be a Marine.
One thing I've never done is something that might compromise doing my duty.
Yet that's exactly what I'm doing right now, lying with her here. It's exactly what I have done by touching her.
What we're doing puts her at risk. More than anything else, my duty is to keep her safe, and I'm too entangled with her now to keep her safe.
My judgment is compromised, and I'm too close.
Logically, I know that. I also know that if her father found out I was sleeping with her, he'd probably deport me – at the very least.
Yet I don't want to be anywhere except in her bed.
I don't get up and leave, not until the light streaming through the crevices of the almost-closed shutters on the windows changes from a bluish to a warm yellow glow. Only then do I slip out of the bed and out of her room, disappearing back to my bunkroom to shower and check in and pretend like this was just a regular night where the princess went out to party and returned to the palace – and definitely not a night like the one it was.
When I come back a couple of hours later, she pulls herself up in bed and pushes her hair away from her ace. "You brought coffee. And you showered. Do you ever sleep?"
"Occasionally." I set a tray beside her bed and pour coffee into the delicate royal china cup. "How did you sleep?"
She sighs as she takes the cup from me. "Well, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but there was an intruder in my bedroom last
Her Bodyguard by Sabrina Paige / Romance & Love have rating 5.6 out of 5 / Based on39 votes