Page 41 of Princess Broken

“Oh, the women consent all right.” She rolls her eyes. “They practically line up.”

To be taken—with force? “Why would these women want—” A wave of lust steals the end of my sentence, and I imagine things I’ve never thought I’d desire. I picture one of the men prone between my legs, penetrating me far harder and faster than Timur ever did. I imagine sex in different positions, ones I glimpsed when passing the pubic feeding rooms at the palace.

Gracen grins. “Women are willing for lots of reasons. To start with, your guys cocks have quite the reputation.”

“They do?” My breath quickens and I fold my arms over my chest, discovering my nipples have formed hard points. I want to curl into myself, to deny all I’m feeling. “What kind of reputation?”

Leaning forward, she squeezes my arm. “Nothing bad, sugar. All good.” She chuckles. “Or bad in a good way.” Her eyebrows rise, and her teeth scrape her lower lip. “You know what I mean?”

I have no idea what she means. My mind is swimming. I’ve barely met this woman and certainly don’t want to share my personal history with her, so I hope she’ll elaborate without my having to admit how little experience I have with…with cocks.

I’ve only ever had a single one inside me. And that one belonged to a man I’d known and trusted for a century first. A man who respected me and treated my body like something precious and fragile. A man who checked in with me as he lay between my spread lets and performed the act, making sure I wasn’t feeling any discomfort.

What Gracen’s describing sounds horrible, impersonal. And if I understand her, it sounds like my captors use women’s bodies without regard. The idea is abhorrent and so different from what I desperately want from a future lover—and yet heat pools between my legs.

Clearly, I’m titillated as much as I’m repulsed. I wish I knew why.

“I don’t understand,” I say softly, not even sure what I’m asking her to clarify.

“Your psychos,” she says. “The brothers are top dogs down here in more ways than one. I’d bet my left tit that ninety percent of the females in Freetown moved down here solely hoping to snag one of their cocks for her own. Probably a chunk of the males, too.”

I suck in a breath. “Is that why you moved down here?”

“N’ah.” She shakes her head. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed when you showed up.”

“Disappointed? Why?”

She shrugs like its nothing. “‘Cause it dropped my odds of ever landing one of their cocks inside me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Because now they’ll only fuck you.”

Unable to speak, I rigorously shake my head.

“Come on.” She leans toward me. “It’s obvious they’ve chosen you.” Her head tips to the side, making her words more question than statement. “I see the way they behave around you. And they brought you down here. Took you into their quarters.” She looks at me like I must understand what she means.

I shake my head. “No. No. No. It’s not like that. They’re my bodyguards. That’s all. There’s nothing…nothing personal between us.” My cheeks are on fire along with the rest of me.

Her expression changes as she processes this information. “Really? They’re your bodyguards? Are you saying you’ve got them under contract?”

I shrug in what I hope is a non-committal way. There’s no contract involved, other than their verbal vow to give their lives for mine. But I also know sex with clients goes against their code, and if Gracen knows about their code, she’ll realize I’m not down here for sexual purposes.

“Gotta tell you,” she says, “there’s gonna be a lot of grateful vaginas down here.”

“Grateful?”

“Grateful to hear the brothers haven’t taken an exclusive lover.”

I nod, trying to look indifferent, but my belly tightens with what feels like dread thinking about all these women wanting to be with my captors. Is this feeling jealousy?

No. It couldn’t be that. I don’t want a sexual relationship with any of these men—especially not Phil—but hearing that the females down here line up to be with the men…

“How many female vampires live in Freetown?” I ask, and then swallow. My throat has gone dry, caused by more than my urgent thirst for blood.

“Not sure. Not exactly.” She looks up to the ceiling, then back down. “Maybe fifty, sixty? Why, do you prefer girls?” She shifts toward me.

“Sexually?” I shake my head. “No. Do you?” Ebony, the vampire Gracen was with last night, seemed sexually interested in Gracen.

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