Page 55 of Princess Broken

Flame stands, lifting me along with him, and even as he moves us he doesn’t stop pumping. Still gripping my torso in his strong arms, he now has the full force of his legs and hips to thrust with. Something he does with more and more vigor.

I’m nearly prone, bent forward in his arms, unable to touch anything with my hands or my feet. My face is pointed toward the floor as he continues to pump me on to his member, impaling me over and over and over.

If Flame dropped me, I’d smash face first into the stone coffee table that’s blurring in my vision.

This is wildly different than the sex I had with Timur. It’s not even in the same category of acts. What I did with Timur gave me enough pleasure to know that I wanted to do it again, enough pleasure to make me crave more, but this, this is so dangerous and exciting. This act has consumed my body and mind. I can’t feel anything beyond Flame’s hardness sliding against my soft walls, ramming into me again and again and again. I can no longer even sense his arms strapped around me, but trust their support. I have no choice.

“Fuck!” he shouts. “Fuck. I need to come!”

Why is he telling me? Does he need me to do something?

But that thought is obliterated, as the force and speed of his thrusting increases. A high keening sound squeezes its way up my throat and escapes through my lips, and I’m no longer sure whether what I’m feeling is pleasure or pain. There’s only heat and pressure and…and…and…I catch on fire.

Screaming, I squirm in his hold as the heat consumes me. My body involuntarily contracts and convulses inside and out. I’m tightening around him, squeezing his hardness, my body gripping him over and over, as waves of pleasure crash through me. I feel like I’m tipping over the cliff of the highest mountain, elated, ready to fall to a welcome death.

“Holy fuck!” Pulling his hips back, he shifts me almost off of him, so far that I can feel his thickness putting pressure at my entrance, and then he drives into me with so much force I feel like his hardness might go right through me.

I cry out, first in pain and shock, and then in ecstasy as his hot seed erupts inside me, shooting deeply, scalding me, but also adding more lubrication for his hard thrusts, now erratic, unpredictable.

Timur always pulled out before ejaculating. I thought I felt full before, but Flame’s hardness is joined now by a huge volume of hot, thick liquid, that keeps coming. And I sense it absorbing into my inner walls, racing to join Flame’s blood that invaded every cell in my body when I fed. This vampire is truly inside me now, in every way I could possibly imagine. He’s conquered every part of me. And I love it.

Grunting loudly, Flame pushes into me hard and deep, and then holds me still against him, pausing a long time before his next thrust, then he holds himself still inside me again. With him deep inside, I involuntarily pulse around him, as if my body’s trying to recreate the friction of his rapid pumping, or maybe I’m suffering aftershocks from the aggressive penetration.

I don’t understand what’s going on inside my body, but I love it.

“Fuck that was good.” Lifting me all the way off his member, Flame sets me onto the sofa, and I land on my hands and knees.

Staying in that position, I heave, trying to pull in full breaths, trying to figure out what’s going on, to make sense of all that I’m feeling.

“You won’t tell the others, right?”

I don’t respond. I can’t even breathe, never mind speak.

“Good girl.” He slaps my ass.

I snap out of my euphoric haze.

Leaping to my feet, I stand on the sofa and glare at him as I tug my dress back down to cover as much of me as it can. “Do not ever strike me again.”

He raises his palms toward me. “Okay. Shit. Sorry. Most women like that.”

“Well, I do not.” Although, even as I say the words, heat spreads from my buttocks where he struck me, and I realize that I didn’t don’t the sensation as much as I’m claiming.

“You can clean up in our shower.” He tips his head to the side of the room where they sleep.

“Guess I could use a quick shower too.” Grinning, he tucks his member, still rigid, into his jeans, and then whistles slightly as he zips up the fly. Then he strides across the room toward the part of their home they call their barracks.

He turns back at the door. “You coming?”

Still stunned, I nod yes.

I feel strange. Used.

After we had sex, Timur spent a long time cuddling me, stroking me and asking whether I’d enjoyed it. He spent far more time readying me before and soothing me after than he spent on the act itself. But clearly that’s not Flame’s way.

What is my way?

I don’t like this distance immediately after, but what I did with Flame was so much more exciting and pleasurable than what I experienced before. Perhaps there’s a happy medium between the two methods. One I’d prefer. I have no idea what I really want, just that I want Flame inside me again.

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