Page 75 of Princess Claimed

“Closer,” he says, his voice husky. “I want to ask you something. Something I should have asked before Crusher came in.”

My heart is thumping out of my chest. Is he going to suggest what I imagined?

“I want to watch,” he whispers, close to my ear. “I want to see Crusher’s cock stretching you open. I want a front row seat to your pleasure, and to his while he fucks you.”

Gasping, I straighten.

“But only if you?—”

“Yes.” I nod.

Instantly, I’m flushed and wet. I thought I was turned on before, but now my body is raging with need. I turn toward Crusher, but his gaze is directed away.

“Did you hear what Phil asked me?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t eavesdrop.” His voice is stern. “Except to gather intel for an operation.”

“Are you…would you…” I’m suddenly embarrassed. What if Crusher doesn’t want this?

“I want to watch you fuck her,” Phil says. “I want to see your thick cock stretching her wide.”

Crusher’s eyes fully open.

“Take her however you want,” Phil says. “As long as she’s okay with it, and I can see it.”

Crusher shakes his head in clear disapproval, but the bulge in his jeans expands. His body wants this, even if his ethics disapprove. He’s attracted to me, attracted to the idea, even as he tries to deny it.

He scans the room, then drags over a fur-covered, padded bench, setting it at the end of the bed and angling it so that the penetration will be in Phil’s view.

“Is this okay?” he asks Phil, who growls.

He turns to me. “Okay with you?”

“Yes. Sure. I guess. I trust you. I trust you both.” My hips shift involuntarily, responding to my growing need, as well as a good dose of apprehension.

“Bend over,” Crusher says tightly, pointing at the bench.

Trying to hide my shaking, I do as he says.

“Grab the handles,” he says even more stiffly. “There.”

I spot leather covered handles ahead of me. They’re just out of my reach, so I tip forward and stretch. One of my feet leaves the ground, then the other. That shouldn’t matter. If Crusher fucks me the way I assume he will, I won’t have any use for my legs.

Crusher approaches, and the anticipation is exhilarating. Lifting my hips, he repositions me, tipping my upper body even further forward. Then the entire bench shifts in angle, presumably to improve Phil’s view. My view includes only the floor.

“This okay?” Crusher asks, and I nod, but realize he could be asking Phil.

Then one of his thick fingers slides through my soaking wet folds, soon joined by another. His fingers’ strokes are somewhat rough, almost mechanical, but my body needs so much right now that I don’t care. My hips wiggle, and I grow more desperate to have this demonstration begin. From this angle, I can’t see Phil, but I love that I’m giving him something he wants even if I don’t fully understand his reasons.

“Finger fuck her first,” Phil says.

One of Crusher’s fingers pushes inside me on command.

I moan. As wet as I am, even this big vampire’s finger is a lot, and he works his digit inside me, thrusting it deep and circling.

Phil growls deep in his chest. “Add another.” He grunts.

Crusher adds a second finger, and before I can even get used to the increased pressure, he spreads them inside me, twisting them, and changing up their angles.

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