Page 92 of Their Princess

No other man had ever touched me like this. If they had, I probably would no longer be so inexperienced. I wanted more. All of it. To be full. My pussy felt so empty, but either way, he sent me spiraling into the depths of pleasure. I ground shamelessly against his leg as I orgasmed, coming hard for a second time today.

Sas pulled back, removing his hands, and I slumped forward. My knees were mush. Bracing my hand against the wall, I tried not to fall to the floor. My mind swam, and I tried to tread water. Each breath was a gasp for air. What the fuck was that?

What had just happened to me?

What had he done to me?

“Soooo easy.” Sas, clearly self-satisfied, crossed his arms over his chest.

He’d discarded his leather cut, and his T-shirt rode up, revealing a trail of dark hair that disappeared down the front of his pants. His jeans were already tight, the bulge hanging in the front, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

Where I bent over, though, my eyes were level with his hidden cock, and my mouth watered.

“Too easy.” He grabbed my chin and jerked it up. “I must be that good.”

“Or I was thinking about Graff?” I said between pants.

Sas tightened his grip on my chin and grimaced. He was easy to read. Easy to fuck with. So easy to anger.

“What did you think about Graff doing to you?” asked Sas, leaning his head down. “What did you imagine as you came all over my leg?”

I bit my tongue.

“Did you pretend it was his hand? His mouth? His cock?” he listed. “Graff has used them all on the bunnies around here.”

“As you have,” I shot back.

“No, not me.” He petted his beard. “I have too pretty of a face to have it between a bitch’s thighs.” He flashed a grin. “Bunnies get my cock. That’s it.”

My mouth watered more, and I gulped it down. My imagination started to run wild about what his cock could do to me. How long could it possibly be with his height? Would it all fit inside me?

“How do they get your cock?” I asked, unwilling to give up this game.

Sas raised his eyebrow at me but was silent for a second, like he was trying to figure out if I was fucking with him. I wanted tofuck with him or be fucked by him. Warmth pooled between my thighs, seeping down my legs. My thong did absolutely nothing to keep the rest of me dry.

“Should I show you, princess?”

I pursed my lips and shrugged.

“You couldn’t handle it,” he said after a moment.

“You said I was a whore,” I threw back at him.

His eyes flashed. “You are. I heard how you moaned.”

“Then show me how you treat your whores,” I dared him through gritted teeth, bracing myself. “You don’t want to be tied down to a wife, so make me your whore.”

“Is that all you want?”

“It’s all you think of me.”

For a split second, something softened in him. He dipped his chin, and his eyes flicked away from me.

But as soon as the thoughts danced across his expression, they were gone. Cold, hard Sas was back, like it had all been in my mind. Maybe it was. Against my intentions of showing him how strong I could be and how I could take everything he could dish out, I’d proven myself innocent and naïve. Was it wrong to think that I would marry someone for love instead of my father marrying me off to a motorcycle club?

Yeah, I had been more wrong than I thought possible.

Sas tightened his grip on me and pulled me away from the wall. Then, he threw me.

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