Page 78 of Broken Princess

“Shouldn’t you be getting back?”

“I think I’ll enjoy the show more, watching from here.” With that, he grabs me, pulling me over so that I’m on the edge of the row, nearly obscured by the curtains decorating the balcony. Before I can sit, he grabs my hips, pulling me into his lap.

“Let go.” I say struggling to get free. “You won’t be able to see anything like this.”

His lips ghost across the nape of my neck. “I’ll be able to see enough.”

The show starts, and not ten minutes into it; I notice a shift in the room. The air is thick and dark. The dancers are wearing flesh colored costumes and the sexualized performance is an erotic dance that looks all too real. I glance down at Logan’s hands resting on my thighs.

The movements on stage become background noise as the sight in the orchestra section catches my attention. Heads bobbing up and down, tits jiggling. “They’re…” The words lodge in my throat.

“You still want me to go back down there with my friends?”

Logan’s right. I shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be seeing this. I let out a shaky breath, telling myself to look away. For some reason, I can’t. His hands reach up, palming my tits. My eyes flutter closed, as he scrapes his nails across them. “Are they sensitive?”

I shift in his lap, noticing he’s thickening behind me. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Jordy.”

“I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

“By grinding on my cock? I’d say you want the opposite of comfort. Though I suppose if you suck me down, like I’m a pacifier, it could be soothing for both of us.”

“Have you ever done what they’re doing?”

“Fuck in public? Many times.” He says, pulling my hair to the side, kissing the crook of my neck. “I’d ask you the same, but I already know the answer.” I hear that familiar clink from his belt.

Is he about to ask for a hand job? Distracting myself from that thought, I ask, “Do you?”

His ministrations stop as he yanks my jaw around. “I’d better. Or are you telling me that over the winter break you experimented with someone else?”

“What’s it to you? And while we’re at it, what the hell can you do to them if I did? That’s an easy answer. Absolutely nothing.”

“The question, baby, is what can I do toyou.”

He stands, pulling my skirt up, and quickly sits back down, easing me into his lap. Pushing inside, stretching me. A part of me knew where this was going when I challenged him. I was expecting hard and fast, instead I’m getting slow and achingly sweet. I don’t want sweet. Not from him. He pulls me back against him when I try to take over the pace.

“I told you before, you get what I give you. So tonight, in honor of my birthday, you get to feel each and every touch.”

“We don’t have time for this. Someone could see.”

“Exactly.” He says nibbling my neck. “And despite what you’d have me to believe, you’re not revolted by the idea.”

Shifting against him, I say, “I’m trying to watch the show.”

“Baby, we’re about tobethe show.” He rocks up, swirling his hips, hitting deep inside my already swollen walls. “Mmm, do you know how long I’ve waited to do this?”

“This isn’t our first time.”

“It is in one of my haunts. Jordy, I’ve dreamed of having you like this. And it makes me so fucking hard knowing you’re not running away. Fuck baby, I can’t think of a better birthday gift.”

“What if I wasn’t here? Would you be with Claire?”

He grips my hair, pulling my head back. It stings and feels good at the same time. His voice drops, dripping with disdain. “Why are you asking about her while I’m inside of you?”

“Because based on what I’m seeing, all you’ve done is created your own private swap night here at this show.”

“I wouldn’t fuck Claire.”

“Would you let her touch and kiss on you? Suck your dick?”

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