Page 79 of Princess Broken

I nod, moving the only part of me that I can.

Then I sense his hands on the pommels near my hips. The electricity and the temperature of the air changes behind me as he moves closer…

And then—then I feel nothing but burning pressure as he drives deep inside me in one hard stroke.

And unlike most times, he doesn’t stop to let me adjust. Tugging back on the handles, Flame pounds his hips forward and back, going all the way in and nearly out of me with each drive.

Overcome by the sensations, I can’t tell when that initial spark of pain turns into fiery pleasure, but it does. Pleasure so strong it threatens to incinerate us both. My body opens wider, surrendering to the driving onslaught of his power and his speed. His drives are coming so fast and hard I can no longer differentiate between thrusts.

The burning friction tells me he’s moving, but it’s more like a constant feeling of fullness and pressure and…and, as much as I feel like I should hate having my body being used like this—I don’t.

My hips yearn to move, to change their angle, to find some relief from the rising pressure that’s extracting my body and mind right out of my skin. And then I grow grateful that I can’t move. Grateful at how Flame’s taking care of everything. I have absolutely no responsibility to add anything to these proceedings. Not unless I want it to stop.

And I don’t ever want this to stop.

Flame pulls out abruptly, leaving me panting, feeling like I didn’t take a breath after the first stab of deep penetration forced the air from my lungs. Perhaps I didn’t.

The horse drops lower again, closer to the ground, and my legs spread wider.

I gasp at the movement, and then he’s inside me again.

I didn’t think it was possible, but his thrusts grow even more forceful. Opening my eyes I look under the horse. At this lower height, his knees are bending more, and he’s using their strength, combined with pulling back on the handles to drive into me harder.

My mind blurs, unable to sense anything but his pounding thrusts. Acceptance floods through me. This is my life now. I exist only as a vessel to absorb Flame’s driving cock. And the pleasure is intense. Edging on excess. Edging, edging around what my body craves but is unable to achieve.

I can’t climax. Something I haven’t had any difficulty with the other times we’ve had sex. And now that I know how an orgasm feels, I want one—desperately. If I could just move my hips a little, move anything… Every nerve in my body is now focussed deep inside me, every cell screaming for release. It’s frustrating, slightly painful, and excruciating in a way I don’t understand.

Finally, his pace slows, slows enough that I can feel him sliding inside me again, feel each time I’m emptied and refilled. And it’s glorious, fantastic. I fight to arch or move, but I can’t.

He shouts. “Fuck!” Then he drives harder. “Fuck!” His seed shoots inside me.

I cry out. At least I think I do, but I can’t be certain. My mind has gone red, unable to process anything beyond pleasure. I’m rising, floating above the horse now, above myself, above us both, as his seed penetrates every cell of my body, exploding through me with a fire I’m sure will consume me.

“Fuck you are tight,” he shouts.

I realize that I’m squeezing him down there. My inner walls holding onto his cock, as if I don’t want to ever let him go. I fight to relax the muscles, but can’t release their tension. It’s like my insides are a vise that won’t let go.

Pushing against the horse, he escapes from inside me, and his hot spunk, combined with my juices, cools the skin on my abraded lower lips, dripping on to my thighs. My insides still feel tight, still feel full, and I raise and lower my hips the fraction of an inch that’s possible now he’s not using his body weight against me.

I’ve never felt so frustrated, so desperately needing something that I’ve been denied.

“More!” I say, barely recognizing my voice. “I need more.”

A smack falls on one of my ass cheeks. “No talking.”

“Flame!”

He smacks me again, and the spreading heat makes my need grow stronger.

“Please,” I cry out. “I need an orgasm.”

He smacks me again. “This fuck is not about you! Not about what you need.” He smacks me again and again.

His voice and tone are so gruff and cold I barely recognize them. “If you’re not quiet, I’ll spank this ass raw, and then, only if I choose to, I’ll plow you again. And I promise, if it comes to that you’re going to regret it, because I’ll take you harder than you can possibly imagine.”

He continues to spank my bare ass, and it stings and heats beyond comprehension.

I whimper. My hips are pulsing, my ass and back muscles are fighting to move within my tight confines, but instead of helping, it’s only making things worse. I need Flame to touch my clitoris, that magic place I know will give me relief.

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