Page 58 of Princess Broken

He’s still on one knee, and my eyes drop. His member stands fully erect against his body, the tip of it deep red, nearly purple against the pale skin of his stomach, and it moves under my attention.

That must be what he means. “Is it painful?” I ask.

“Kneeling?”

I shake my head. “No. That.” I use my eyes to let him know what I mean.

“Ha.” He grins. “No, not painful. Well, only in a good way.”

There’s a good kind of pain? “Then what did you mean?”

“About what?”

“You said I’d done something to you.” Embarrassment creeps up inside me. I know so little of men and of sex. “Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry if—”

“Oh, darling, what you’ve done, it’s all good.” His hands slide up to cup my breasts, engulfing them in his large palms, and then he rises to his full height and looks down into my eyes. “How do I explain?”

He’s so much taller than I am, a foot and a half taller, and it makes me feel tiny. Vulnerable. Fragile. His hands remain still, but the rough skin of his palms abrades my nipples making me want to squirm to gain more friction.

“I’ve never—” He looks to the side. “Fucking for me has always been mechanical. The females I’ve taken, their bodies have been…” Shaking his head, he turns to look deep into my eyes.

Lust and wonder swirl in their depths, multiple storms surging inside the bright blue sky there.

“I’ve never done that to a woman before.”

“What?” I suck in a breath. “Do you mean the way you…the way you impaled me while I sat on your lap?” What else could he be talking about?

His eyes open wider, but he shakes his head. “No, I meant now, in here. The way I licked your skin, kissing and suckling your breasts.” He inhales, and his tongue strokes his lower lip as if he’s overtaken by the memory of it, and his hardness bounces between us, striking my body in the most delicious way.

“I’ve seen men do things like that to women,” he says. “I’ve seen men pay attention to breasts, to other parts of women’s bodies.” He shakes his head. “But it’s never held any appeal.”

“Oh.” Whatever motivated him to try it today, I’m grateful.

“I have touched breasts before,” he continues, like he’s thinking it through. “I’ve squeezed them as I was fucking. Used them kind of like…like handles, I guess. And I’ve pinched nipples, hoping to increase the slick inside a woman’s cunt, but I’ve never wanted to taste or to kiss a woman’s breasts. In fact, I’ve never wanted to kiss a woman at all.”

Licking my lips, I hope he’ll kiss me now. If he weren’t so tall, I’d take the initiative myself. I rise onto my toes, but it’s barely any help.

“When I was kissing you like that…” His eyes close, and I realize he’s still talking about what he did to my breasts. “Something came over me. Fuck. I couldn’t help myself.”

“That was my first time too,” I say softly. “No one has ever done that to me before.”

His eyes open. “Really?”

I nod.

“Not even—?”

I shake my head. Timur did touch my breasts while preparing me for the act, but it was nothing like what Flame just did.

“I like being your first, at least with something.” His voice comes out in a low growl.

And I feel the urge to tell him everything about my past, how I thought that Timur was a eunuch until recently. How I was a virgin until that day, and how Timur was my only sexual partner.

I especially want to tell Flame how he made my body feel things Timur never came close to.

But I swallow all those confessions. I feel safe with Flame—I know he won’t hurt me—but safe is a relative term. I trust Flame not to harm me and to keep others from harming me too, but that doesn’t mean I trust him with the most intimate secrets in my heart. And if Flame, or any of my guards, knew that I’d misled them about my relationship with Timur… That their sense of duty is misplaced…

No.

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