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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / His Princess Brat by Maren Smith and Rayanna Jamison – Extended Preview

His Princess Brat by Maren Smith and Rayanna Jamison – Extended Preview

“You’re the king’s brother?” My jaw dropped yet again. Oh, my God, I was cousins with this man? Distant cousins, my mind immediately calculated. Perfectly legally, morally decent to flirt with, kiss, and even do—the excitement zinged through me again—other things with.

“Not by blood,” he corrected. “But as close as.”

“Oh.” That really was okay, then.

“So what brings you to the palace?” Azid asked.

“Desperation,” Bethany muttered again, just as soft as before and obviously eavesdropping.

I snapped around, hissing, “Says the gold-digger who pants after every tight bank account she sees!”

Bethany snapped around too. “I weep for the future of Bahar, horse breath!”

Grabbing my ice water, I dumped it directly over her perfect head and into her lap. “You look a little hot and bothered,” I said over her scream. “That should help cool you off!”

I’d have thrown the empty glass at her too, except my wrist was seized and the glass taken from me.

“That was not well done,” Azid said firmly, neither smiling nor seeming particularly upset. “Come along, Princess. We’re leaving.”

I wasn’t in a mood for tea anymore anyway. “I hope she chokes on her sandwich,” I spat, only half under my breath as I was walked back into the palace. He still had me by the wrist and we were halfway up the stairs before I realized what we were doing. “Where are we going?”

“To discuss manners, and why you aren’t going to do that again.”

Far be it from me to play the royalty card, but I was a princess. I outranked Bethany. “The ice in her panties was lonely. I was being solicitous.”

“All right,” he said evenly. “That’s two.”

“Two?” I countered. “Two what? It’s not two, it’s well-deserved. So don’t think for a second that anything you say or do will ever make me apologize. I’d sooner slit my own wrists than ever tell that… that…”

“Language,” Azid warned proactively.

I glared at him. “I’m not sorry, and I never will be.”

We reached his room.

“Challenge accepted,” he said, opening the door and pushing me in ahead of him.

His suite was every bit as luxurious as mine, but done in that deep midnight blue color I liked so much. It made for a very relaxing atmosphere, right up until he locked the door.

“Why did you do that?” I asked, a part of me wondering if I ought to be alarmed. Another part of me wondered if he was going to kiss me again.

My insides went all molten and swimmy. My nipples tightened at the look he gave me as he closed the distance between us. I’d never felt my fluttering heart skip a beat so many times in one day before, but when he took my hand and led me to the couch, it did it yet again.

He was going to kiss me. I was almost sure of it. I rolled my lips, practically able to feel the touch of his on them. But then he sat down, and it threw me off completely when I felt that sharp tug. For the second time today, he jerked me over his lap. Face down, instead of sitting as I would have thought he’d want me.

“Oh, not agai—Ow!” I cut off with a yelp when the flat of his hand launched a vigorous assault all over my upturned ass.

He wasn’t just spanking me again, he was spanking me so much harder than before. Like seriously hard. It actually hurt and suddenly I realized he had gone easy on me the first time around. He must not have been hitting very hard back then, but he was now.

Forget kisses. Shock gave way to fury. I bucked, struggling to throw myself backwards off his lap, but he clamped his free arm across my back, hugging me to him while his hand never missed a beat.

It stung. No, not just stung. It hurt like a fury, and it wasn’t stopping.

“You can’t do this!” I cried, and he paused long enough to hike the skirt of my yellow dress up, tucking it under his restraining arm. “No. No!”

I tried to catch his arm, but he caught my wrist, pinned it down, and then went right back to spanking me.

I still wouldn’t have thought my dress much of a barrier until it wasn’t there. The smacks were crisper now and the pain even sharper. He landed three stinging swats and that was more than enough for me to know I just couldn’t bear this.

“Stop!” I shouted, kicking wildly with both heels in an effort to hit him.

In a swift jerk, one of his thighs disappeared out from under me. Catching my legs between both of his, he clamped me down as if in a vise, and there was no breaking free from him now.

“Azid!” My whole body went stiff as a post in his unbreakable grip when I felt his fingers hook the elastic of my panties and down they came.

Azid had just bared my backside.

Now he had full view of me. The cringing cheeks of my bottom. My—oh, I was horrified—my sex! Everything was naked for his approval. I panted, appalled, shocked, and so ludicrously, thoroughly aroused that I could feel the trickles of liquid lust slipping through the lips of my pussy. No one had ever done anything like this to me.

“I’m not going to say you weren’t provoked, Princess,” he told the back of my head. “But your behavior downstairs was not appropriate or ladylike, and you are better than that.”

I had a split second to digest that, the calm of his voice, the mild rebuke that nevertheless cut past all my defenses and left me bare-bottomed, blushing, mortified, and… worse… in complete agreement with him.

That had not been, as he’d so calmly put it, well done of me.

His hand cracked down on my left and then right bottom cheeks so much harder and faster and aggressively worse than before, and that moment of insanity in which I’d found myself almost agreeing with him vanished beneath a tidal wave of self-preservation that made it impossible to hold still. I thrashed. I shouted, and whimpered, and I, Pita Okoro, Princess of Bahar, burst into tears while my bottom was spanked to a bright hot red over the knee of a man that, up until this moment, I’d been so sure I might like enough to actually marry.

He reduced me to sobs without another word beyond those his steadily scolding hand continued to deliver without further pause or mercy. I bawled. That wasn’t ladylike either, but he seemed to be blind to that. He broke me down to a point where I couldn’t even fight him anymore. I just lay over his thigh when he spanked and spanked, and finally, it was done.

“I hate you,” I brayed as he picked me up, pulling me into his arms to hold me, still bare-bottomed with my panties around my knees, sitting on the lap he’d just punished me across.

He kissed me on the forehead, the jackass, rocking me slightly back and forth while I sobbed. “If it’s any consolation, of all the people I’ve met here so far, apart from Mazi, Norah, and my godson, I find myself actually quite fond of you.”

He really was a jackass. I just wanted to hit him, but my bottom hurt too much to risk it.

He touched my face with the back of his finger, trying to get me to turn to him.

No, I was so over it. “Stop touching me,” I sniffled.

He cupped my chin, applying ever increasing pressure until I grudgingly gave up and glared at him. “You broke the pact, you paid the price. It’s over now.”

“Says you,” I retorted. “My butt feels scalded.”

When he chuckled, I glared. It was hard to do that with his finger rubbing up and down against my cheek. I looked at his lips, those smiling, handsome, sinfully delicious—

He kissed me. No matter how hard I tried to hold onto it, my irritation melted into the soft caress of his mouth teasing mine. My toes curled. They actually curled. All of me was curling, in fact. Curling and melting into him, my hands coming up to his face and shoulders, my lips parting to the tap of his tongue, requesting the kind of access my spinning head was only too happy to give him.

He was so gentle with me, at complete opposites with the harshness of the spanking that had left me burning and throbbing. The worst of which wasn’t even in my bottom anymore. By the time that gentle kiss ended and he raised his head far enough to gaze hungrily down at me, all that languid lustful heat had migrated between my legs. My pussy ached, I wanted him so much.

“Is this the start of another two minutes?” I asked, my voice so husky I hardly recognized it.

Dragging his gaze from my mouth to my eyes, he licked the taste of me off his lips and suddenly it was like a dam broke in his calm and in his restraint.

“I’m not counting,” he growled. He seized me, his hands grabbing hold of my ass, yanking me back up against him and into his kiss. This was hungry, plundering lovemaking. This was him taking me, lifting me clean up off his lap to lay me down beneath him on the couch, and I was not telling him no. That word was nowhere in my mind when his hands swept up under my dress, cupping the backs of my thighs, the burning of my ass, that heavy wanton aching heat in between that made my back arch and the rest of me sigh when he lay his hand over my sex. He cupped me as if he owned me.


“What does my little princess want?” he seduced, nibbling his way to my ear. His fingers combed through my folds, opening me up to this most intimate of caresses.

I gasped again when he found the nub of my clit and circled it with fingers already slick from the pleasure he was drawing from me.

“Yeah, baby,” he cooed, his devilish touch wringing gasp after gasp from me. “Me too.”

I don’t know how my legs became parted, but I loved the feeling of him atop me and lying in between them. He plundered me with kisses, robbing me breathless before his lips again broke from mine and suddenly he was scooting down the length of me. He scooped my breasts out over the top of my dress to kiss, caress, and draw each peak in turn into the full heat of his mouth. He teased me breathless all over again, nipping until I moaned. He pinched and rolled, not hurting me in the slightest, but making me ache until I was mindless for more. And when I thought I could not bear another second, his mouth abandoned my breasts and down he went even further, spreading my legs wide so he could launch his hungry attack directly on my pussy.

My hips came all the way off the couch, bucking up into the lash of his clever tongue. I shouted and didn’t at all care who heard me. I’ve never been touched like this. I’ve never had my hips locked down, my clit suckled and tongued and suckled once again. He drank from me until my whole body rebelled, arching into the earth-shattering waves of an orgasm that started with his mouth and just went on and on, crashing through me. I shook until it hurt. I almost burst into tears again, though for the life of me, I don’t know why. This was sensation at its most exhilarating, even as it shattered me right there on his couch.

Rising up over me, Azid captured my lips with his once more. The taste of us together was intoxicating. I was so captivated by it, by him, that I barely noticed anything else. Not until I felt the unexpected brush of something both warm and hard bump and slide up along the inner slope of my thigh as he pushed his pants down and out of the way.

I wasn’t completely innocent; no one who’d spent as much time around horses as I did could go through a mating season and not know about sex. I’d not only seen stallions mounting mares before, I’d actively supervised Adofo in all five of his previous stud services. The sight of Azid’s fully erect cock was at once… well, okay, nowhere near as impressive as a horse’s, but it was certainly the biggest thing I’d ever seen between my legs.

Catching me behind my knees, he bent them up until my thighs were practically on my chest and the heady length of his cock was sliding along the glistening wet slit of my pussy. Back and forth, he moved in slow thrusts that slid the textured head and length of him all over my clit. With each new pump of his hips, he banished all my half-thought reservations before I could fully gather them.

Unable to do anything but feel, I turned my face away, biting my own finger to keep back my moan, my hips bucking upward when he changed the angle of his thrust and the head of him nudged right into me.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, sinking in just far enough for me to feel the head of him stretching me open.

I covered my mouth, embarrassed by how low and guttural my moans had become.

“No, baby.” He pulled out, opening me further with another slow push that stretched me even more. “You don’t get to hide your moans from me. Daddy wants to hear every—”

He withdrew for the first shallow thrust; arching into that invasion, I grabbed his shoulders with a gasp.

“—little sound—”

His second thrust pushed so deep, I felt the tiniest pinch of pain; a discomfort that pleasure quickly overwhelmed.

“—you make.”

My cry was sharp and loud and he pulled back only to immediately shove himself all the way up inside me, filling me so deep and so full that nothing else mattered but how much more he could give me.

“You’re mine,” he said as he rode me, the pump of his hips slapping into the saddle of mine, a steady rocking rhythm that would forever destroy me for anyone else. “You… baby… are all… fucking… mine!”

I came so hard. This time, my toes didn’t just curl, they crackled, and he just kept going. Pounding me into the sofa cushions until every muscle in him tensed and, suddenly slamming one final thrust as deep and hard as he could, he poured himself into me on shuddering waves we both shook to.

I was ruined in no way that mattered, except that no man who might ever come after him would ever be able to measure up to what Azid had just done. I felt silly and sated. And for a few minutes at least, I wasn’t princess of anything. I was simply baby, and Daddy was Azid.

And this… this had been perfect.

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