Page 72 of Broken Princess

“I beg to differ. You’re quite good atcum-mingon demand.” He walks over to the bed, pushes off his jeans, and sits, taking himself in hand. “Come over here and I’ll prove it.”

A zap of energy courses through me. I’m fully prepared to play his game. “There you go, trying to order me around again.” Turning towards the door, I say, “Maybe you can call me when you learn to ask, instead of demanding. Or better yet, call one of the endless number of girls who like sucking you off because they think toxic attention from you is better than none at all.”

He pounces on me before I reach the door. “Let this be the last fucking time you tell me to go fuck someone else.”

“It won’t be.”

“Is that so?”

He drags me over to the table where his laptop is and stabs at a button, waking it. After a few clicks of the mouse a video starts rolling.

“What are you doing?”

He turns up the volume, pushing my face closer. I don’t know the girl, but I know before the guy turns around that it’s Logan. “That’s what you’re telling me to do. Find someone else and sink inside them over and over again until they’re screaming my name? Can you really sit here and say you want me to give this away? That you don’t feel any sense of ownership to my dick?”

Watching him on screen and considering his question, I do feel something. Ownership isn’t quite the word, because Logan doesn’t belong to me, and this is just one more trick he’s using to get me to let my guard down, so he can snatch the rug out from under me again.

I turn my back to the screen. Whoever she is deserves privacy even if it’s on film. “Let’s not pretend you need my permission to do whatever you want, Logan, and this homemade porno isn’t having the effect on me you thought it would. Does she at least know you taped this and share it as part of your seduction technique?” I ask when he undresses me from the waist down.

He grabs his cock again. My eyes drift down to the swollen head, the tip of my tongue darts out when I see the bead of moisture on the tip. Even if I won’t say the words out loud, Iamaroused, and I do want him.

Locking eyes with him, I sink to my knees, inspecting every protruding vein. I swipe my thumb over it, before bringing it to my mouth. I kiss the tip, lick the slit, and circle my tongue around the ridge before placing feather soft kisses up one side of his length and down the other. His eyes are dark and hooded, watching me in that deliciously dangerous way he has. The one where I can tell his patience is wearing thin.

"You're toying with it." He says as he slips his hand under my chin. "Stop pretending you've never seen my cock before." His thumb pushes between my lips, parting my mouth wide. "You know how I like it. So open wide and swallow it."

Tonight isn’t about him. I totally intend to give him what he's asking for, but on my own terms. I get to my feet, discarding the rest of my clothes, on the way over to the bed and lay on my back at the foot of it, my hair spilling over the side.

He comes to stand in front of me, as I open my legs, letting my knees fall open. Dipping my hand between them, my middle and index finger circle my clit. He’s watching me, his request for a blowjob momentarily forgotten. I close my eyes, getting lost in the sensation, and smile to myself when he leans over me, blowing on my sensitive flesh.

His tongue laps at my folds. Once he has a good rhythm going, I reach my hand out for him, guiding him closer, licking the base of his cock, warming myself up, then open my mouth wide, taking as much of him as I can. I stroke him and flick my tongue along the underside of his shaft. Shifting a little more, I barely come off his cock as I move my head back and forth while writing the alphabet with my tongue.

He loses focus when I make a rumbling sound in my chest. His hips jerk forward, and I exhale through my nose as I swallow around him. I know I have him when his nails dig into the back of my thighs, emitting a strangled moan against my clit. I remember to keep my neck relaxed as he coats the back of my throat.

I watch him as he sleeps, fully sated after our latest romp. His face is calm and unguarded, the beauty of it still takes my breath away. His toned, muscular body, is sculpted perfection that not even his masterful hands could ever replicate.

He lies here unaware of the swirling emotions inside me. My tormentor, my friend, my lover, my enemy. Logan wore me down, hiding his truest nature and intent behind flowery words and seduction. The memory of his betrayal makes me want to suffocate him in his sleep. But there’s still more to do before I reveal just how much I hate him. Until then, I’ll pretend. Keep his trust. Warm his bed. He stirs in his sleep.

“Jordy? What’s wrong?”

I duck my head to hide my contempt, not yet able to mask my emotions the way he did. I slide my hand up and down his length before taking him in my mouth. He forgets his question as I work him over. I push his hands away when he grips my head forcing me down. Coming up for air, I kiss a path along the length of his body and ease myself onto his shaft. Riding him with deep thrusts, I work through the anger and lust I feel.

“Jordy…” He growls, flipping us over. He pulls out, turning me onto my stomach, taking control. I allow myself to let go. Needing release from the ball of tension I carry. The knot unfurls with each stroke.

“Logan,” I croak as he rocks deep inside me, setting off fireworks. He licks and nips my shoulder, his hand resting on the back of my neck. Something inside me claws at me, demanding to be acknowledged. “Harder!” I gasp, giving voice to the need to be claimed.

His stroke falters for a beat before he grips my hips, slamming home. He lifts my head when I try to muffle my screams in the pillow. “You asked for it, now I wanna hear you.”

I scream and yell as he fucks me. It’s cathartic and when I cum, the tension and stress releases. Warmth spreads through me, as the familiarity of being surrounded by him, filled by him, seeps into me. And for just a second, I’m me and we’re us again. Then he groans against my ear. Whispering soft words, caressing me, telling me how much I mean to him, and the numbness returns.

Logan McKay can use my body the way I’m using his, but he’ll never have my heart to destroy again.

Twenty-Eight

Logan

Jordanna did it again. First she fucked and ditched me in New York, then she tied me up and made me go down on her when we were stranded at the studio, and now she’s giving upside down blow jobs and spelling shit with her tongue.

I’m enjoying seeing this side of her, but it’s also got my head all fucked up. I’ve built my reputation around leaving them wanting more, so why am I the one sitting around trying to figure out when I can see her again, while keeping it a secret from my friends.

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