Page 13 of Princess Avenged

My throat tightens and all the air leaves my chest. How unfair to lose my first great love, so soon after finding him. Does everyone I love have to die?

“You okay?” Crusher whispers as his hand slides up my bare leg.

I nod, and another wave of contented pleasure swells through me, followed by a rush of heat at the memory of all that happened between the four of us earlier.

Physically, my vampiric body has recovered from the burns, the rigorous sex, the almost inconceivable triple penetration, and yet my insides continue to throb with the memory of taking three cocks inside me at once—the overwhelming stimulation and pressure, and especially the weight and stretch of Crusher’s huge cock inside my ass.

His thick stiffness felt good back there, like Crusher was right where he belonged. Lusty gratitude washes through me. I’d be happy to live the rest of my life with Crusher permanently occupying that space. Not necessarily fucking me all the time. Just simply being there, living deep inside me.

More heat flushes through me, imagining a life where my feet never touch the ground, a life where Crusher carries me from place to place impaled on his cock. There’d be no need for thrusting—not in public—because I’d feel every one of his steps, every one of his breaths, any slight movement. Even if he stayed perfectly still, I’d feel the pressure of Crusher’s presence throughout my entire body. It would be impossible not to.

I relish the idea of being so intimately connected to Crusher. And I justify my dirty, impossible idea, rationalizing that I need a fantasy to help me survive.

I shift to an imagined future where all three of these men stay with me. Where they exist to do nothing but pleasure me every moment of every day.

Crusher’s huge hand slides over my leg. His expression is sad and worried, but now that I’m awake, he keeps his focus away from my face. Instead, his gaze follows his hand as it slides over my body. Neither my heart nor my mind have fully accepted losing Phil, but Crusher’s entire presence is doused in pain.

I need to hear what happened. We all do. Just as we all need to learn whatever Blade found in the archives, but I shake those thoughts out of my head. Flame and Blade are still sleeping, and there will be time to face all that reality later.

Earlier, Crusher did so much for me. He did exactly what I asked of him and more, and in this moment, with just the two of us, this time before we talk, I’ve got a chance to return his great favor, and perhaps replace some of his pain with pleasure.

My fingers fall onto his broad chest, and Crusher groans as I explore him there. Encouraged, I slide my hands lower, loving the texture of the soft, springy, dark hairs that form a trail to guide my hands and eyes toward his precious and very generous package.

As my gaze shifts to his cock, it solidifies my fantasy of a future, existing with Crusher’s hardness always inside me. It doesn’t always need to be my ass, I suppose. Depending on our moods, he could occupy one hole for a few hours, and then the other. I could sometimes face him, sometimes face away. One position and location would likely prove more comfortable or convenient for any given moment or activity. Based on whether we’re sitting or standing. On what kind of garment I’m wearing. Whether or not we’re in public. I grin at my ridiculous fantasy.

I love the idea of Crusher acting as my personal throne, me impaled on his lap as I sit at a boardroom table, discussing important matters on behalf of the crown.

Loving the distraction of my imaginary world, pride floods through me as I imagine how strong I’d feel with the added height that Crusher’s legs would give me, not to mention having his power literally housed inside me while I negotiate deals.

In the present, in the real world, his fingers slide through my folds, fully slick from my daydream, and my eyes flutter shut as I absorb the intense pleasure. His firm fingertip circles my opening, teasing me.

But I can’t let him distract me. Earlier, Crusher pushed out every sad thought from my mind, and it’s my turn to return the favor.

As I slide down his body, his fingers slip through my sex, creating a trail of wetness over my belly and up between my breasts as I move. Then he loses contact with my skin for a moment as I straddle one of his thighs.

His hands fall gently to my hips, and I look into his eyes as my hands caress his abs, loving all his ridges and valleys, how they ripple and react under my touch. I’m shocked that I have not yet fully explored Crusher’s miraculous body—so massive and powerful. A body my imagination has already claimed as my future throne.

The impaling part of my throne is fully rigid, and it shifts under my gaze as if enjoying my attention. I consider sharing my fantasy with Crusher, but speaking right now might wake the others. Plus, looking at him from this perspective I realize that if his cock were always inside me, I’d be deprived of seeing it, of touching it.

My fingers shift from his abs to the dark curly hairs that embellish the base of his stiffness and the orbs below it. He groans, and so I explore further, enjoying the varied textures—the velvety wrapping and the hardness inside it—and loving how my every touch earns a new reaction. With each movement, I’m rewarded with a moan, a tightening in his balls, a shift in his cock’s direction, a twitch in muscles somewhere else in his body. Often, I get all three reactions at once.

Witnessing these responses, even to my lightest touch, fills me with a profound sense of power. I long to learn every part of this big man, to touch him more firmly and reap new rewards. It’s amazing how a tiny vampire like me can control even one aspect of someone as massive and commanding as Crusher.

Disbelief and loss wash through me again.

Crusher and Phil are the two most powerful vampires I’ve ever encountered, and all four of the brothers are more loyal, more dedicated than any other males I’ve known.

I have no question that Crusher did everything he could to protect Phil. But the time for questions and sadness will come later, once the other two are awake.

My fingers encircle Crusher’s stiffness, but my hand is too small, his girth too wide for my thumb and fingers to meet. So, I twist my hand as I slide slowly, running my thumb up the hard ridge on the underside of his cock.

He groans, deep in his throat, as my fingers glide over the soft skin coating his hardness, and I love how his magical organ heats and darkens with blood, under my touch. How do men go through their days with these large, sensitive and ultra-responsive organs jutting out from them? How are they not distracted all the time?

Continuing to explore with my fingers, I bend forward.

“Fuck, Ana.” He hisses. “Even your breath is too much right now.”

Startled, even though his voice was a whisper, I look up. Seeing the heat in his eyes, I move even closer, and then lick the very end of his head. His hips buck up, and his cock slams against my mouth.

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