Page 81 of Broken Crown

Her knuckles whitened on the railing as I cupped her pussy from behind, rubbing her clit while slowly, deliberately fucking her ass with one finger, then another.

Opening her.

Preparing her.

With my free hand, I lowered the zipper to my pants. "You know what I want, Sabrina."

She twisted her torso to try and face me.

I pressed my hips against her, preventing it.

"Please, Sebastian. I've never…done that."

I twisted my two fingers inside her tight ass, feeling the tense ridge of muscle. "That is why I want it."

I pulled my cock out and wrapped my fingers around the swollen length. A low rumble vibrated in my chest as the press of my hand eased the rising pressure in my shaft.

With both hands, I spread open her ass cheeks.

Her tight hole glistened from the olive oil in the low light cast from the wall sconces.

Swiping a linen napkin over my fingers, I dipped my left hand into the olive oil dish one more time and ran my fingers over the head of my cock, coating it.

Then I widened my stance as I tilted my hips forward. The head of my cock pressed against her puckered hole.

On stage, the Duke whispered lies of devotion to Gilda while plotting her ruin.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

Sabrina tried to straighten her back.

I splayed my fingers over her lower back, keeping her bent forward. I began to push in.

Her body resisted.

I applied more firm pressure until the head of my cock forced its way past her clenched entrance.

The air in my lungs seized when her body reluctantly swallowed the head of my cock.

Sabrina's body shook as it accepted the pain.

I ruthlessly reined in the impulse to thrust completely forward, impaling her.

Instead, I tortured us both by entering her slowly, inch by aching inch. I pulled back slightly until the tight ring of muscle caught on the ridge of my cock head, then pushed forward again. I did this several times.

Forward two inches, back one, forward three inches.

Forcing her to accept more of me with each thrust.

"Please," she whispered. "It hurts."

Releasing her ass cheek, I reached around to cup her breast. "Your pain is your submission to me."

The very act of her surrender, of her sacrifice, nearly brought me to my knees with a gnawing, possessive need.

God help me if she ever knew the power she held over me.

The orchestra surged with violent strains as Rigoletto discovered his daughter's corruption. The dissonant chords mirrored the brutal claiming I now performed over the balcony rail.