Page 54 of Princess Broken

Even through his clothing, Flame’s body is warm and solid, and I finally let my hand slide down, moving between us toward his lap.

“Ana. I told you. I can’t.” But one of his fingers flicks from its grip on my thigh and brushes over my panties.

I gasp, shocked at how even that tiny bit of contact sets me on fire. My lust can be explained by the feeding, but I don’t care about the cause of this need. I only care about its solution. I spent a century denying myself, and I’ve never wanted something, someone, so badly.

“Please.” I look into his eyes as my hand travels lower.

“The code,” he says through gritted teeth. “The others—”

“Don’t need to know.” I watch his expression change and his hunger grow.

Flame’s going to give in. I need him to give in. I need to feel him moving inside me more than I needed his blood.

His finger brushes over the thin silk of my panties again, and I tip my head back, absorbing the pleasure and trying to make sense of how he’s making me feel. He’s barely touched me, at yet it’s so much. Almost too much.

And suddenly I’m reminded of how my body felt when Phil rubbed against me. This feeling is similar, but so much better, like my insides are climbing a mountain whose summit I can never reach.

Flame’s hand shifts between my legs, and my feet drop to the sofa cushion for an instant, but then he tears my panties down to my ankles.

Before I can react, he lifts me, turning me to face away from him. One arm strapped across my chest, his other hand explores between my legs as he holds me above his lap.

I pant, unable to catch a breath—not wanting to bother, because although it’s very different from how Timur prepared me for sex, I recognize what Flame is doing. He’s making sure my body is ready for penetration. He’s touching and testing for wetness that I know is there.

Hope and excitement rise inside me, overtaking any sense of fear. He’s going to do it. Very soon, Flame will lay me down on the sofa, or perhaps he’ll take me to his bed, or mine. Then he’ll lie between my opened legs and…

His hand moves away from my sex, and he shifts. This is it. He’s going to lay me down.

But instead, his fingers spread my lower lips, and I feel his hardness pressing against my sacred opening, even though I’m still facing away from him.

“Ah! Oh. Please. Yes.” I can’t form sentences. I barely remember words.

Flame lowers me, and the head of his manhood slides against my opening, moving forward through my folds and striking the most sensitive place near the front.

“Fuck.” He sounds frustrated, and while I can’t see what he’s doing, I can tell that he’s repositioning himself at my entrance.

Once there, he presses up with his hips, and a sharp feeling, more pressure than pain, overwhelms me.

“You’re very small,” he says. “And I’m big. Slow isn’t going to work. I’ve got to go in hard. Forgive me.”

I don’t have time to consider a response before he tugs my hips down and impales me.

I cry out. He groans, and our commingled sounds form a symphony of agony and longing—an ode to unfulfilled need.

His arms secure my position, one remaining over my chest and one low over my hips, and then he thrusts.

Flame drives himself into me, lifting and lowering my body, over an over, like I weigh nothing as he pumps me onto him and I repeatedly land against his lap.

His thick member fills me completely, stretching me further each time he drives in, and leaving me empty when he lifts me, and I can’t process everything that I’m feeling.

Gracen told me that the brothers only take women from behind. She described them bending women over. But I’m basically sitting on his lap as he bounces me over him. And each bounce is met with a massive thrust.

Over an over his drives slam into my body, going deeper and deeper and sparking new nerve endings inside me. Is this how he prefers the act? Sitting like this? With the woman facing away? Is he feeling pleasure too? Unable to see him, I can’t tell.

But I try not to think about what he’s doing or why. Instead I want to let myself enjoy the pleasure rising inside me.

“Ana.” His voice is a growl. “Your tight pussy is lighting my cock on fire.”

I gasp at his words. I’m on fire too, but don’t get a chance to tell him.

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