of lying across a grown man’s knees, feeling his hand slowly caress my burned skin.
“You swear all the fucking—ah!”
“Princesses must not swear.”
“You can shove your princess up your—”
Slap!
Every finger burns. I can feel the outline of his hand scorching my skin.
“That was preemptive,” he chuckles, kneading my swollen skin. “Rule number one: wear your fucking engagement ring.”
I twist my head around. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Disciplining my fiancée.”
“‘Disciplining’? Are you from the fifties?”
“I’m from the era where princesses behave with a certain decorum that is required of them.”
“I’m not a princess, and I didn’t say you could put your hand on my ass!”
“Do you make every man you’re with ask permission for everything?”
“We’re not together, you crazy jerk!”
“Oh yes we are. We’ll be photographed and interviewed together every day for the next few weeks. You need to act the part of my sweet, loving, even-tempered princess. It’s my job to make you act like one, and if I have to give you a bit of a spanking to get you ready, so be it.”
I struggle to a sitting position, determined to vanish into my room, but his hand pushes down on the small of my back.
“Fuck!”
Slap!
My skin explodes with the sensation of his palm, which lies on my tender flesh.
“No swearing,” he repeats quickly. “Other basic rules: Never touch or speak to a royal unless they address you first. Never, ever turn your back on the king. When dining at the table with the king, royals stop eating when he stops, no matter how hungry you are.”
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. So I’m supposed to wolf down my food before he ends his meal?”
His hands fly to my shoulders, and then he pulls me upright so I’m sitting on his lap. The world spins for a moment as the blood drains from my head.
“Do not criticize our culture.”
The fabric of his pants is rough against my skin, but it’s oddly comforting to sit on his lap with his hand wrapped around my waist. For a moment, the desire clawing up my thighs feels normal. Then he buries his hand in my hair and tugs. His voice hisses over my neck like a blade.
“Get up. Let me see your posture.”
Trembling, I stand. Within seconds I get a stinging slap on my ass.
“Shoulders back. Head high. Suck in your waist. More. You must walk as though there’s a string attached to your head.”
I attempt a few paces, lifting my head and thrusting my shoulders back. God, what a pain in the ass. Liam nods his approval as he remains seated.
“You realize the irony of spanking my ass while teaching me etiquette, right?”
“I thought it might be a fun game. You screw up, and I get to touch your ass. Either way, I win.” He stands from the chair, smirking. “Now let’s see how you sit.”
“I don’t need lessons on how to take a seat.”
“I’m betting that you do. Sit.”
And he points as though I’m a dog.
“Yes, Your Fucking Highness.”
I nearly dodge the blow, but he wraps an arm around my waist to pull me close, and I clench my muscles.
Slap!
It fucking smarts, but he strokes my skin immediately. It’s sensual. He gropes me. Definitely sexual. What the hell is wrong with me? The old Daisy would have given him a good old kick in the crown jewels.
A smile staggers over his face. “I’m starting to think you’re actually enjoying this, Daisy. You’re such a naughty girl.”
Naughty. No one who knows me would ever call me that. Not even—no, I’m not going to think of that. Not when Liam’s holding my ass and he’s making that sound in the back of his throat.
“There’s one more rule I haven’t told you yet.” He squeezes me. “You must never refuse a royal’s cock.”
He laughs as I shove his rock-hard chest, unable to dislodge him from his spot.
“I’m done playing these stupid games. Stop. Touching. My. Ass.”
“Like you actually want me to stop.”
“I do though. That’s what I’m trying to get through your abnormally thick head. You’re not my type.”
“I’m every girl’s type. I’m the man you think of when you touch yourself late at night. Like I said the first day we met—you want a pearl necklace all over your tits. Just think about that for a moment.”
I do. I image myself spread-eagle on the bed, Liam bent over me with his cock jutting out of his fist, the hot, pearly cum lying on my breasts. Maybe I’m a prude, but