Praise Me: Princess (Praise Me Daily)
Praise Me: Princess: Chapter 10

I hardly remember life before Conrad anymore.

I’m lying on my bed facing the ceiling, my body still flushed and slightly damp from my bath, hair in a messy top knot. Not a stitch of clothing to shield me from the view of the commander as he paces beside the bed. Slowly. He’s decided to dress me this morning, but he’s taking his time replaceing an outfit, and time honestly means nothing now, so who cares? I’m wrapped in a meandering fog day in and day out, every inch of me so sensitized, I can barely carry on a conversation because I’m just thinking of the next time he’ll be inside of me.

The pulses in my neck, wrists and chest flutter madly, my chest rising and falling on anxious breaths just listening to his footsteps. They go from one side of the bed to the other, his sharp and reverent eyes examining my flesh. And I don’t feel a hint of self-consciousness or worry that he doesn’t like what he sees, because he praises me every moment we’re alone. Pressing me into dark corners of the palace and groaning into my ear.

As soon as your appointments are finished for today, I’m going to sink into that little princess cunt and rattle your fucking teeth, I’m going to ride it so hard.

Or…

Daddy wants you from behind, baby. My patience is waning.

Or…

I would die for you, princess. Over and over. You only have to ask.

Before the commander arrived, I was insecure and afraid of my own shadow, plagued by memories of the incident. Now, I’m too exhausted from our nocturnal activities to dream. I’m not nervous about walking into a room full of impatient advisors or leaving the palace grounds. He’s the wind at my back, the safety net beneath me, the stars above. And I am all those things to him. My heart beats with that truth, and right now, it’s accelerating, because Conrad is trailing a finger downward between my breasts, over the dip of my navel, his hand splaying on my bare hip.

“You’ll wear blue today,” he says. “That dark blue silky blouse, tucked into a skirt. And a pair of black stockings that almost reach your pussy. The thinnest, barely there panties you own, so I can reach under your skirt in between meetings and feel it purring in my hand.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

His fingertip ghosts over the mound between my legs, making my stomach hollow, expand and hollow once again. “Have I mentioned that every single part of you is perfect?”

I nod, swallowing, tears melting into my eyes and moisture gathering between my legs. It’s as though he controls my entire body, right down to my nervous system, my tear ducts and sex organs and bloodstream all belong to him to command at will, beating his name, pounding with abandon. “Yes, you’ve told me,” I whisper.

“You’re going to be told again, Princess,” he says gruffly, wetting his mouth while looking me over, his gaze moving over my thighs and pussy and breasts. “Because I am overwhelmed by your beauty. By your feel. And if I’m going to be kept in this state of admiration all goddamn day, you’re going to hear about it. Let’s start with your pretty little toes and work our way up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, you say, so casually…” He picks up my bare right foot and brings it to his mouth, his eyes closing on a shudder as he kisses my arch, then my toes, one by one. “Painted so innocently with pink, but they dig into my ass with such savagery when you’re getting fucked on your back, don’t they?”

He bites two of my smaller toes and I whimper. “I had no idea. I can’t…I can’t think—”

“When I’m practically assaulting you with the erection you’ve given me all day?”

“Y-yes.”

“Moving on to these legs.” He takes several deep, bracing breaths, swiping a few beads of sweat from his upper lip. “You cross them so demurely while performing your palace duties. One might think you don’t even know how to spread them for a man.” He settles a possessive hand on my knee and presses my thigh wide, exposing my most private flesh, which I’m sure is wickedly wet. “But I know the truth. You drop them open like a good girl when it’s time for me to eat.”

My hips lift involuntarily at those words, a sob wrenching from my throat.

It’s true.

I’ve found his mouth to be the closest I’ll ever get to heaven on earth.

I’m shameless about asking for his tongue. That rough way he creates friction against my clit while his long middle finger twists in and out of me. My God, it is divine.

“Look at all that pretty juice,” he rumbles, gripping my other knee and holding it open, my thighs well and truly spread for his attention now. “I’m supposed to be getting you dressed, little princess, but you can’t stop making my cock hard, can you?”

“No,” I murmur, haltingly. “Not when you’re talking to me like this.”

“Sorry, baby, I could talk about your pussy all fucking day.” He pries my knees wider, his pupils blanketing his irises while he peruses me. “Explain how it gets tinier every time I fuck it, Greta. Maybe you’re swollen because I can’t resist long enough to give you a break. Or maybe I just get harder and thicker every time I’m offered your pretty, royal cunt, because I come away more obsessed every. Single. Time. But Jesus Christ, baby, it’s like fucking a virgin three times a day. You’re murdering me with that tight little thing.”

I’m squirming in the bed sheets now, a fine sheen of perspiration coating my freshly washed skin, my breasts heaving up and down, insatiable need rippling through my lower body in a way I know that is visible to him. He sees everything.

“We’re going to address your tits next,” growls the commander. “How they pout and jiggle every time you walk. How they bounce like you’re being railed every time you ride a horse. Do you know why I make your security team turn their backs while you ride now? Because they’re all thinking of taking turns with you in the field.” He leans down without warning and licks his tongue over the stiff peak of my left nipple, making me cry out, my nerve endings on the highest of alerts. “I was about to have a mutiny on my hands, all because of these barely legal tits. Fuck, I love them. I’m infatuated with them, but they only bounce for your Daddy, little girl, do you understand?”

“Yes,” I wail, reaching for Conrad, only to have him pin my wrists on either side of my head. “Please. Please. I can’t take any more.”

“I haven’t even gotten started on your hips. How they buck and wiggle and drive me insane. Or your perky ass that slides right into my lap, like it was built to fit.” His voice drops to an unsteady rasp. “And my God, your face. I don’t even have words for it. Hell is a place where I can’t envision your eyes. Or your mouth. That would be the ultimate punishment. And son of a bitch, hell is what I deserve for what I’m about to do.” He reaches between our bodies and jerks down his zipper, rising up on his knees and positioning himself in a kneel above my head, his long, heavy shaft gripped in a fist. “Blame your succulent fucking mouth for the fact that you’re going to be late this morning. I need to get my dick inside of it, baby.” He groans brokenly, beating himself off with tight strokes. “You did this. You addicted me.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my expression contrite as possible, my fingers playing with my stiff nipples and making him pant. “You better stuff it in and teach me a lesson.”

With an animal growl, he does exactly that, planting himself between my lips and slowly pumping forward, stretching my mouth wide, salt splashing against the back of my throat, his pleasure so immense that his legs shake, trembling the bed, and after only a week together, I already know from experience that the commander is on edge right now and will come fast, probably cursing and praising my existence in the same breath. And he speeds toward his peak now, choking on his own breath, his hips thrusting unevenly, the thickness of him spearing in and out of my mouth, his grunts echoing off the walls, his balls knocking against the underside of my chin.

“Princess. Princess. Princess,” he heaves. “I want three fingers in your cunt when I finish. Sink them in, now. Pump the way I’m pumping in your throat.”

Eagerly, I do as I’m told, barely able to fit three digits, gasping as the sensitivity he created heightens, along with the pleasure of giving my Daddy what he needs, and my muscles stiffen at the same time as the commander’s big body, release pulsing through me while warm male essence blasts the rear of my throat, his giant, hairy thighs flexing against my cheeks, squeezing, his cock fucking into me one final time, his explosions decreasing, decreasing, along with his tension, along with the hoarse calls of my name, until finally Conrad falls to the mattress beside me, breathing incredibly hard, but still managing to reach over and tuck me tight to his chest, his mouth whispering over my temples and cheeks, praising me, and I bask in it.

I bask in him. Our connection.

My love.

I hold onto it, vowing never to let it go.

Or let anyone rip it away…