Page 77 of Princess Broken

Captured by lust, I rub it.

His head tips back. “Ho-ly fuck.”

A thrill races through me at the power I feel, marveling at how a simple action can elicit such strong reactions in this man. Tracing the shape of him with my fingertips, I barely touch him as I gently stroke his jeans, along both sides of his erection, framing its shape.

“Ana.” His voice is hoarse and tight. “Keep doing that and I’m going to bend you over this pool table and fuck you right now—fuck you hard. Take you my usual way.”

A bigger thrill races through me, throbbing in my sex, and I keep up with the stroking action, daring him to make good on what he clearly considers a threat.

He groans, then looks down into my eyes, his full of questions.

“You can take me however you want,” I say boldly, but the moment the words are out of my mouth, my chest freezes in fear. What he’s already done to me has seemed rough at times, so it’s difficult to imagine what he’s been holding back.

But the look in his eyes is so exciting it trumps my fear.

“The way I usually fuck—” his eyes narrow “—it’s rough, impersonal.”

“You’ve told me.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think you understand.”

“Then tell me.” I let one of my fingers graze over the length of him.

He sucks in a breath. “There will be no connection between us. No talking. Only anonymous, vigorous, penetration. I’ll pound one of your holes—pound it hard and fast until I come.”

That doesn’t sound too different from some of the times we’ve already had sex, but he’s making it sound as if I haven’t seen anything yet. And I’m not completely sure what other holes he’s talking about.

“And if I decide to, I might just turn your little ass bright red before I fuck you. So every part of you is burning down there, inside and out.”

“That…sounds…” my insides squeeze “…exciting.” My voice is thready and I can’t utter more than one word per breath.

“Words you may live to regret, darlin’” Flame scoops me off the floor.

My upper body flops over his back, and he straps his arm across my thighs holding me over his shoulder. I fight to grab onto his broad back as he carries me, but my upper body bounces out of control. He’s moving quickly, and I’m unbalanced, precarious, even though I quickly realize that his grip on my legs is so tight that there’s zero chance I’ll fall.

“Why are we in here?” I arch my back to look around when he stops. We’re in the gymnasium. The last place I expected.

“Remember. This is an anonymous fuck.” His hand smacks my butt, through the linen dress I’m wearing. “No talking.”

Setting my feet on the floor, Flame quickly turns me, and then lifts me from behind.

Unbalanced again, my arms flail, but in the blink of an eye I’m folded over something padded and covered in tan leather. It’s a pommel horse, its handles on each side of my hips.

Grunting, Flame pulls a lever, and the horse drops a few inches.

“Good height,” he says.

“For what?”

“No questions,” he growls. Pushing up my dress to my waist, he smacks one of my bare cheeks. And I’m glad I didn’t bother with underwear today.

And I nod, breathless—more from the shock than the pain, as the hot sting radiates outward, increasing the damp anticipation between my legs in a way I don’t understand.

Flame comes around to the front and he bends as he tips up my face, his finger under my chin.

“Remember what you promised me?” he asks.

I shake my head, my mind blank. I do remember that I’m not supposed to talk.

---