Page 116 of Stolen Princess

“Oh!”

Yeah, I bet she’s feeling that.

“More,” she pleads against my lips. “I want more.”

“You’re a fucking goddess.”

I grip her and start to pump harder, faster, keeping my rhythm even and deep but giving it to her. She can take it. She can do anything. She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met. Not just the most incredible woman.

Her broken arm stays above her head, and her other is pressed into the shower wall for leverage.

“Ferrin.” My name is a gasp. A whisper. I’m already lightheaded, and it doesn’t surprise me. I bet she is too.

“Tonight I’m going to fuck you in your princess bed, and I’m going to eat your cunt for hours.”

I groan at the thought. Her pussy grips my cock, sucking on it, holding it in tight. She is so swollen and hot. I pick up my pace and start to pound her. I can tell when my girl is getting close, and she is. Her chin is tilted up, her eyes are closed, and her cheeks are the stunning shade of pink. She bites her lip, and I do too, our teeth clashing.

“That’s it, princess. Take it. Take all of me.”

I give her a hard thrust, making her cry out. I kiss her everywhere. Her face and forehead and the edge of her mouth. I bite her too, feral and uncontained. Her cheek and chin and down her throat. I bite her shoulder as I drive into her, my movements growing savage.

I’m so fucking deep in her, but no matter how hard I pound or how deep I go, it never feels like enough. I always want to be deeper, more inside her.

“Look at me,” I demand. “Look at me when I fuck you.”

I push down harder right above her pussy. I’m not rubbing her clit, but I’m making her feel it. I’m pushing it back into her body where my cock is pounding her. I kick her legs together to make the fit even tighter, to have her cunt grip me until all she knows is this.

She’s slick and wet, but fuck, it’s still such a brutal fit. One I have to work at to make sure all of me fills her up.

“No one will touch you. Not ever. It’s only ever going to be me.”

“Yes,” she gasps.

“Mine,” I grunt. “Mine!” This cunt, this body, even her fucking heart. All fucking mine.

I bite her shoulder again, only to wince. She has enough markings, and once again, I have to remind myself to be gentle with her. It’s so easy to get lost in this. In the insane, consuming way I need to possess her.

I’m not a good man. I’ve always known it, and I didn’t care. It’s a part of me—selfish and angry. I never wanted to be anything else. With her, I’m better. It’s not even something I have to pretend or try for. It’s natural. She knows who I am and wants me anyway. It’s more than I’ve ever had, and it binds me to her.

My soul will forever belong to the princess of Messalina.

Her hips move against mine, undulating and making us both breathless. Her ass bounces against me as her movements become erratic. Her cunt grows so tight, so fucking tight, and I can’t… I’m done for. I can’t hold off. It’s too fucking good.

“Ohh!” she cries and falls backward so her head is against my chest as her orgasm sweeps through her. She rides me, grinding down on my dick.

“Holy fuck, Desta.” I push harder on pussy and drive into her, thrusting two more times before I still and spill into her. A painful shudder twists deep in my bones as I throb and pulse.

She moans and clings tighter to me. I cup her jaw in my hand as best I can since this arm isn’t great and kiss her, staying inside of her, never wanting to leave. We stay like this for I don’t even know how long. I hold her and kiss her and gently rock into her, pushing my cum in, keeping it inside. I’m so fucking reckless, but I don’t care, and she doesn’t seem to either. I’m starting to get hard again, and I force myself to pull out of her.

Awkwardly, we finish washing ourselves, and once we’re done, we leave the bathroom. She climbs into a pair of soft pants, a T-shirt, and a sweatshirt. “This feels like the wrong outfit to meet a king and a prince in, but I don’t think I can manage much else.”

“Maybe see if there’s a ball gown in your closet.”

She snorts. “That would be the perfect piece to match my cast and bruises.”

“Is that why you went with a purple cast?” I tease as I put back on my sling. “I assumed you did it because it’s your favorite color.” I hate wearing this thing, but it helps with the pain, so I’ll endure it for now.

“Ha. So funny.”