Page 57 of Princess Broken

His form would be the definition of male perfection except that…I step closer to get a better look through the steam. Flame’s legs are badly scarred, his skin twisted and discolored to such an extent it looks painful, and it’s a wonder to me that he survived whatever caused this extensive skin damage, presumably years before he was turned.

Glancing over his shoulder, Flame beckons me forward. How long has he known I’ve been watching?

Anticipation tickles my entire body as I approach the opening at the far end of the glass wall. Anticipation not only to have warm water washing over my body, but at the possibility of touching Flame’s naked body, of seeing it up close, and mostly the anticipation that we might repeat the sex.

Pausing at the entrance, I keep my gaze high on his body, fighting to control my impulse to look down, or to leap forward and kiss him. He reaches to turn on another shower stream, and water cascades down between us, obstructing my view of his body. Not for long.

Passing through the stream of water, he gestures toward my body with a questioning look in his eyes.

“Oh!” I’m still wearing my dress. My mind is so muddled, overwhelmed by lusty thoughts that I forgot to remove this garment, so skin-like compared to my typical attire.

Stepping back, I accidentally run into the bench at the far end of the shower, and my breath catches in my chest as I look up into his eyes.

“Need help with that?” he asks.

I nod, shocking myself.

Flame drops to one knee, and his hands land on my legs, resting below the hem of the tight dress. From there, he slowly nudges the fabric up, and his palms heat my skin as they rise. He looks toward me, his blue eyes full of mischief and heat.

The fabric rises to my hips and I remember that I lost my underwear at some point. I remember him pulling them down to my ankles, but have no idea what happened to them after that. I must remember to find them, so the other men don’t discover them lying about, soaked in the scent of my arousal.

Flame was kind to feed me, even more kind to relieve the sexual tension that followed, and I will not betray my promise to keep our activities a secret. Something I hope we’re about to do again.

Still kneeling, he pushes the fabric over the rounds of my hips and up to my waist and leaves his hands resting on me. His gaze drops away from mine, and his breath stirs the mound of hair at the apex of my thighs. Excitement floods through me as he seems to study me down there, breathing against me, licking his lips.

I shift my legs farther apart.

Gasping, he leans forward and inhales deeply, and his intake of breath shifts the air over my sensitive skin. I tip my head back absorbing the gloriously sexy sensation. I want him to touch me down there. But even more, I want him to drive his hardness inside me again. He can do it however he wants. Flame can do whatever he wants with my body.

His attention shifts back to my dress, and I close my eyes as he pushes it up over my ribs, then over my hardened nipples. I raise my arms to help.

But he doesn’t move the dress over my head as I expect. Instead, he leaves it high on my chest, tight around my up-stretched shoulders.

Looking down, I see Flame staring at my chest, and for an instant I wish I had a more ample bosom, like my sister Tatiana did.

His breath is hot on my skin, and then he presses his lips against the space between my small breasts.

“You are so fucking perfect.”

I gasp at his words, but my simultaneous urges to disagree and to thank him are smothered by my sharp inhale, as he licks my chest. My arms drop, falling onto his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to notice as his tongue explores my right breast and then my left, circling around each, making tighter and tighter rings around them, each rotation getting closer to my now needy nipples.

The feeling is glorious, and I sense his unique vampiric essence transferring from his saliva, scalding and penetrating my skin, as he licks these soft, round parts of my body. Even though he has yet to touch a nipple, they’re now honed into painfully sharp points, throbbing, craving his touch.

Lifting one palm from his shoulder, I slide my hand into his hair. It’s unbelievably thick and soft, and Flame moans as I burrow my fingers to stroke his scalp. His tongue’s circles become tighter, intensely focussed, and my nipples cry out for relief, but I have no idea what remedy to suggest.

As if knowing the answer, his tongue flicks across the tip of one nipple.

My stomach contracts and all the breath rushes out of my chest. Moving to the other nipple, he invokes a similar reaction there, and then begins to rapidly flick each nipple in turn with the sharp point of his tongue. My hips squirm below his hands, still holding me around my ribs, and I’m shocked at how the stimulation he’s creating in my nipples is transferring straight to my sex.

I’m climbing that steep mountain again. More slowly this time, and yet the summit seems even more dangerous, like I might die when I fall over its edge. His flicking turns back to tight circles over the surface of my breasts, and then, latching onto one nipple, he sucks.

My hips thrust forward, moving without my control, and I sense his reaction. His moan vibrates from his mouth into the sensitive tip of my breast, amplifying my pleasure, and then he pays the same attention to my other tight tip, suckling there too, and I don’t even pretend to stop my hips’ pulsing. They’re moving, absorbing phantom thrusts.

He pulls his lips away from my body, and I look down to meet his gaze, finding it full of desire and…and something else?

“What the hell have you done to me?” he asks.

“To you?” I gasp. “I don’t understand.” He’s the one who’s done everything.

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