Page 59 of Princess Claimed

Crusher

Everything about this dynamic spells danger. Danger with a capital Phil.

My brother’s in denial. He’s lost his mind. Fuck. I’m close to losing mine too.

I drain my chilled glass of artisanal gin, and Phil steps a few feet back from Ana, putting enough distance between them that his raging hard-on isn’t digging into her back. Did he think I didn’t know why he was holding her so tightly?

But of Phil’s interest in Ana was just about fucking, I wouldn’t be this worried. I have never, ever seen Phil react to another person this way. I’ve never seen anything on the same planet as his behavior around her.

I shake my head. Ana suggested we dance.

“Dancing is a great idea. Is this music okay? We can ask for any genre, or any specific song you like.” I reach for her hand.

Not taking my hand, Ana slips to the side, and reappears in a flash of silver, at the top of the stairs, leading down from the VIP area. “I want to dance with the crowd,” she calls back. “I need to feel the energy around me.”

In the blink of an eye, Phil’s on the step below her. “Not gonna happen.”

She pushes against his chest. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Taking a step down, he growls. “You didn’t seem to mind yesterday.”

Shaking her head, but keeping her hand on his chest, she forces him down another stair. Or at least that’s how it looks from my perspective. Ana’s strong for her diminutive size, but Phil’s got at least two hundred pounds on her, so there is little chance he’d have budged, unless he wanted to.

I move to the top of the stairs. “We can keep her safe,” I tell Phil. “It’s our fucking club.” It’s not like we control every person who comes in here, but no one can get past Phil and me to get to Ana. Not even a fucking demon. We’ve proved that.

“Let’s go down,” I say to Phil. “Ana wants to dance.”

She rewards me with a massive smile, one that shakes my rock-hard cock.

I’m a hypocrite for scolding Phil.

Turning, he starts to descend, keeping one stair ahead of Ana all the way down to the dance floor. The club is packed, and the crowd has doubled since we arrived. Given the snippets of conversation I’m overhearing, the news of our presence spread around Manhattan’s vampire community like an avalanche.

Gauging the danger, I listen in on dozens of conversations.

Many are mentioning Ana, her beauty, her dress, the fact she’s here with us, but so far I haven’t heard a single mention of her name. Princess Anastasia is a well-known figure in the vampire world, but given her isolation for most of her life, it’s possible that few outside the royal court have actually seen her, and certainly not dressed like she is tonight. I think back to the full-length, loose-fitting silk gown she wore when we met. It revealed little of her skin and nothing of her shape.

The dress she’s wearing tonight is a mere slip of fabric, hanging on tiny straps that anyone—even a human—could snap with no effort. Falling from those tiny strings, the garment drapes low, both in front and in back, and as I follow her and Phil, the rear view makes my cock pound even harder. The fabric is see-through, and covered in what’s got to be a million silver disks the salesman told us were hand sewn onto the garment. The tiny sequins reflect the light as the fabric drapes to curve over her ass, grazing the top of her crack, and then it falls down barely a foot from that. Brushing back and forth as she walks, the sequined fabric caresses the hollow where her tiny, round butt meets her thighs.

Why haven’t I tasted that part of her yet?

I’m suddenly consumed with the idea. Why have I not kissed her there? Why hasn’t my tongue yet traced the seam where her perfect ass unites with her milky thighs? My cock shifts in my pants.

Ana is fucking spectacular. Outranking any other woman I’ve met by a factor of a thousand. But that’s crazy, because I can’t count the number of beautiful females I’ve encountered—many of whom I’ve fucked. But not one of them even begins to compare to Ana.

It’s not fair to put another woman in the same league as Ana, because it’s not just Ana’s beauty, or her grace, or the soft, responsive tightness of her cunt. Every detail about Ana is dazzling.

Fuck! I need to stay strong and avoid falling down the emotional well Phil’s already dropped in to. It’s unbearable enough already, knowing a time will soon come when I’ll no longer see her every single day, every single night.

I can’t think in terms of never seeing her again. Even after the danger has passed, we will see her again. Someday. Somehow. I can’t face any other future, and no matter how often we see her, it will never be enough.

Stepping onto the dance floor, Phil reaches for Ana’s hand. My fingers itch to take her other one, but I keep things professional, scanning for possible dangers in the crowd, currently parting for us like the Red Sea.

Stopping, Phil pulls her close. But she takes both his hands and, walking backwards, tugs him along with her.

“Let’s go over there, where it’s all lit up.” She tips her head back. “It looks fun!”

The smile on her face is beyond infectious, and both Phil and I catch the bug, not arguing as she heads into the most crowded area of the dance floor.

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