Page 43 of Broken Princess

Parting me with the flat of his tongue and drawing it through my slick folds up to my clit where he stops and tongues the sensitive bud before nipping and sucking, varying the sensations so I can’t anticipate what’s coming next. It’s overwhelming and when I hear a growl in his throat and feel the vibrations thrum through my core, I lose myself to the sensations and surrender to the pleasure he gives.

Throwing my head back, I fall against the bed and grasp the sheets tight as his tongue explores me. My orgasm builds, but I’m not giving it to him. He’s taking it. I feel his fingers at my entrance, teasing, exploring, and savouring how wet I am for him. First one, then two fingers plunge into me and curl forwards, hitting my g-spot before pulling back. With slow, deliberate thrusts, he tortures me by drawing out my bliss, making sure I come only when he allows it.

I’ve never been held so close to coming like this. It should be torture, but it’s paradise. Right now, there’s nothing else in the world, only this. Only him. Only us.

I’m flooded by a cacophony of debauched sounds as Sin continues to tease me. His fingers fuck my pussy in time with the way his clever tongue rolls against my clit. A string of incoherent mewls escapes me, announcing how close I am to the edge.

“I’m not sure I should let you come yet, colibrì,” he teases, pulling his mouth away from my greedy pussy and I cry out at the loss of his skillful tongue.

“Sin. Please.”

“Be a good girl and beg, Aurora.”

Whether it’s being called a good girl or the level of desperation I feel, but I’ll gladly beg this man if it means I get more of him. “Please, Sin. Please let me come.”

I stare up at him, desperate for his mouth to finish what it started. His arm is still moving, pumping his thick fingers into me, stretching me perfectly and grazing against my front wall with the perfect pressure. But it’s not enough. My hips roll, desperate to chase my release, and he brings a hand to my hip to hold me in place.

He pulls his fingers from my now drenched cunt and immediately replaces them with his mouth, fucking his tongue into me, drinking me down and savouring every drop. “Fuck, you taste good, hummingbird. Like the nectar of the gods.”

The mouth on him is fucking filthy, and I love it. Words are eluding me, and I can only focus enough to remember to breathe. With one arm wrapped under my thigh, gripping me tight and pulling my pussy to his lips, the other moves to allow his thumb to massage my clit. I feel my centre clenching every time his tongue breeches my entrance and I shatter.

I feel… everything and I come harder than I ever have. As waves of ecstasy roll over my body, Sin doesn’t stop, his tongue is back on my clit and three fingers are filling me gloriously, fucking me hard, demanding I come again.

“Sinclair, please. Please fuck me. I need you inside me,” I plead with him, lifting my arms to bury them in his hair and wrench him from his ministrations. The interruption is both a relief and a loss that makes me cry out as my orgasm fades away.

Climbing up on the bed, he hauls me back to its centre and kneels, tugging at his belt and popping his fly. He shucks down his jeans, pulls them off and throws them to the floor.

“I warned you, Aurora. Repeatedly. You are not in charge here. On your knees and face the headboard. Now.”

His words send shivers through me. They promise so much, but there’s nothing about them that makes me feel threatened. Quite the opposite. I’m eager to obey him.

“Your only job was to lie back and take everything I chose to give you. You didn’t do as you were told, Aurora.”

I’ve lost the ability to form words, struck speechless by his commands, but I nod. Once I’m on my knees, he’s next to me arranging the pillows under my chest and abdomen, encouraging me down with a soft stroke along my spine. His makeshift bolster takes my weight, leaving my wrist and collarbone protected. Sinclair growls his approval, and I feel his warm palm brushing across my cheeks.

“You can say red at any time, Aurora.”

Whatever happens next, I trust him. He wouldn’t do anything to harm me. But before I can prepare myself, a sharp smack lands at the top of my thighs. I hear it before I feel it. I’m startled and then hiss at the sting before rolling my hips as the pain gives way to a warmth that radiates through me and sparks something in my core I’ve never felt before. He keeps going, maintaining the same force and making sure never to hit the same spot twice.

It feels so good.

I’ve experienced more pain at the hands of someone I should have been able to trust than I will ever come to terms with, but this is not the same. The sensation is reassuring, restorative. It’s like a release I didn’t know I needed. I feel Sin’s hand connect again, and I cry out, unable to contain myself.

“Fuck, you wear my handprint well. Such a good fucking girl, for me.”

He massages each spot he’s marked, drawing out an unexpected moan and a rush of emotion. I feel so many things all at once. I’m not happy or sad, but I’m feeling everything. Turning me and pulling me into his arm, he leans back against the headboard, and I straddle him. Rolling my hips, I can feel every inch of him against me.

He caresses my cheek, “You okay there, hummingbird?” Shaking my head at him, I lean down and lay a tender kiss on his lips.

“Not yet, Sinclair, but I will be.” Quirking a brow at him, I add. “I need you… all of you.”

Cupping my cheek, he checks in with me. “Are you sure? Today has been a lot, Aurora.”

“I need this, Sin… please.” I feel like I’m taking advantage of him. I’ve got no idea what any of this means. I just know that every time he touches me, every time he tends to me, I feel safe and free. Like the Aurora I was before I married Max.

He looks deep into my eyes, and I see a flurry of emotions run riot across his face before he nods and leans into a tight embrace, pressing his lips to mine with the utmost care. It’s both too much and not enough. He pours all of himself into this kiss.

Fuck. I am not in the right headspace for the emotions he’s stirring in me, but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening. Sinclair quiets all the noise. The urge to retreat into myself is no longer present when he’s close. When any of them are, for that matter.

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