Page 10 of Broken Princess

“Let me suck your dick, Nico. I want to taste you on my tongue and drink you down.” He’s panting, squirming, and desperate. Fuck, I love this gorgeous little brat. I’m going to spank his ass so hard later for daring to control my pleasure. There’s a lot I’ll do for Benedict, but taking direction when it comes to sex is not one of them. He is mine to own, and it’s his pleasure to obey my every demand, to satisfy my every desire.

“I’m not sure you deserve it. Why should I reward such bratty behaviour?”

“Please,” he begs and licks his lips, the pink tip of his eager tongue peeking out as he pants. “Nico, please.”

I thrust forward, forcing his mouth wide, his tongue sliding under my dick, while I bottom out in his throat. He’s wet and warm and feels like fucking heaven. He swallows, eyes watering as I gaze down at my man gagging on my cock. “Fuck yes, Bambi, you’ll take what I give you and beg me for more.”

I piston savagely, chasing my orgasm as he moans. I can feel it through my cock, little vibrations that spur on my release. He’s careful to avoid catching the barbells with his teeth while also caressing them with his tongue. He’s so fucking good with his mouth, but I don’t want to come down his throat. “That’s all you fucking get, you ungrateful brat. Stand up,” I grunt, dragging him up and spinning him round. I grab his arms and place them against the wall. “Don’t move, and maybe I’ll let you come.”

He whimpers in protest, but his body obeys.

I step out of the shower to retrieve what I need and when I return, I run my hand down his spine to cup his ass. Leaning forward, I nibble and kiss the side of his neck. He shudders and nearly drops his arms but stops himself. “Good boy,” I whisper.

I squeeze the lube onto my fingers and massage his tight little hole. With my other hand, I reach around and stroke his cock. At his entrance I press forward to the knuckle with one finger in shallow thrusts, timing them to match the pace I’m setting on his cock. “Does my filthy little fucktoy enjoy his master's gifts?”

“Fuck yes, sir. More, please give me more,” he says, whining pitifully.

He takes my finger all the way to the last knuckle, and I ease out to drive the next finger in and give my eager little slut what he wants. I surge forward with both fingers—filling him, fucking him—then curl to tease his prostate, causing him to let out a strangled moan of pleasure. I lean into his body so he can feel my length against his ass. While I scissor my fingers to stretch his eager little hole for me, I run a thumb over the tip of his crown, coaxing out fat beads of pre-cum.

“Is this all for me, Bambi?” I say, bringing my thumb to my lips to taste him. Teasing a cry of both frustration and near-feral lust. I grab his hair, pulling his head back to my shoulder, forcing him to arch his back and his ass to jut out. Removing my fingers, I notch my cock at his entrance. Thrusting forward, I let out a choked moan as his tight ass welcomes me. I release my grip on his hair to grasp the front of his throat, letting the weight of my palm rest there without squeezing—just the way he likes it. “So fucking perfect wearing my hand like a collar.”

He trembles as I yield my hold on his throat to grab the base of his cock, applying enough pressure to deny his release. “Did I say you could come?” With my free arm, I grip him across his torso, taking as much of his weight as I can as I’m pounding into him, mercilessly.

“Please, sir, please let me come.” He tries to buck his hips, desperate for release, but my grip prevents it. “Please, please, please,” he begs, almost delirious with need.

“Good boys do as they’re told and get what they’re given. You will take every fucking inch I give you and will thank me for it, Benedict.”

With those words, I fuck him deep. He bites his lip, stifling his mewls as the metal ridges of my piercings rumble against his rim. “Don’t you fucking dare come without permission.”

“Please, Daddy. Please.”

His tight ass grips me like a vice as I growl out, “Come for me.” He detonates, coming in thick ropes that follow the cascading water down the tiles. I join him, coming in hot pulses, filling his ass, throbbing as he milks every drop from me. Leaning forward I kiss the side of his cheek and whisper, “Stay still, Bambi. I got you.”

Pulling out, I turn him to allow the jets of water to rinse him off while I drop to my knees and lather a cloth to clean him with reverent care. Rising to stand, I turn him round and take him in my arms. “You were supposed to sleep. Come with me.”

I walk him out of the shower stall, wrap him in the nearest towel, and dry him off. Once I’ve dried myself off too, I lead him back to bed and lie down, pulling him with me. He burrows into my neck, and I pull the covers over us both. “Sleep, Bambi.”

“I love you, Nico,” he says sleepily, drifting off with a satisfied sigh.

The rage I was feeling has subsided thanks to this beautiful man. I’ll slip out once he’s asleep, but right now I just need to hold him. I want to make him feel better in any way I can.

“Ti amo, Bambi,” I murmur into his just-been-fucked unruly, auburn tendrils. They tickle my nose and it’s a feeling I adore. It’s peaceful, like home. Something that is characteristically Benny. My sunshine guy, with the chaotic energy of a springer spaniel and a heart so full of love, it awes me. He is my opposite, but he soothes me like no one can. Calms my demons.

I may have power napped, but I tore myself out of the comfort of Benny’s arms—eventually. Right now, I’m driving Doc Em back to the safe house. I wouldn’t say I like her—I don’t like many people. I respect her, though I’m not sure what her deal is. She’s someone that gives off a perpetual vibe of touch me and no one will ever find the body.

She doesn’t talk much, and she’s not interested in what other people have to say. I find it refreshing—she’s a kindred spirit.

We drive in comfortable silence while I run a non-standard route to make sure we’re not being followed. She blows out the occasional huff of frustration as she glares down at her phone.

“Everything alright?” I ask, regretting my decision immediately. I don’t chat. The residual calm from my time with Benny appears to have weakened my ordinarily stony façade.

“Someone at work who won’t take ‘fuck off’ for an answer.”

I glance over at her, anger emanating from my eyes at the idea that someone is crossing a line with her.

“Down boy, I can handle it,” she laughs out. “I forget there are men out there who respect the word no sometimes. Calm down and get back in your box.”

“I meant no disrespect. I’m sure you’ve got it handled.” I tip my chin, impressed by her moxie.

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