He pulls out and I watch my hole flutter for him. I groan. I don’t want to be empty. A finger teases around my rim and the fluttering increases.
“Please,” I beg.
Three fingers stuff into me. They take away the empty feeling. I’m no longer hollow. My satisfaction bubbles out of me in a moan.
“Such a greedy little pet,” he growls.
I shudder and silently plead for more.
“Keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror,” he orders as his fingers dance in and out of me.
“No looking away, Little Pet,” he says as he slams in deep, forcing a grunt from me and making my toes curl.
“Watch as you come undone for me,” he whispers as his fingers curl slightly and push down on my prostate.
Everything goes white. Blinding light fills my sight. White noise fills my ears even though I know I’m screaming. My orgasm blasts through me stronger than an imploding star.
Eventually, I drift back down from spinning amongst galaxies. His fingers are still in me. My lungs are heaving. I’m covered in sweat and my muscles are trembling.
“You closed your eyes,” he says.
“Sorry,” I rasp.
“You are going to spill for me, over and over again until you do it while watching yourself in the mirror.”
My body jerks. My stomach flips. My already racing heart skips a few beats.
“I…I can’t,” I stammer.
I really don’t think I can. The orgasms he gives me are too intense. They carry me so far away. Keeping my eyes open? Looking at myself while I cum? That is far too intense. Intimate. Impossible. Overwhelming.
“You will,” he says.
His fingers start moving again, and it is like electricity and fire. Every nerve ending I possess is overstimulated, hypersensitive. I writhe from the intensity, but he holds me still.
A tug on my hair reminds me of his command. I stare at my reflection. My cheeks are flushed. My lips parted and wet. My eyes are blown, wide and dark. Sweat is sticking my hair to my brow.
I look a mess. A debauched. Horny mess. Barely even human. I am a creature of carnality and lust. It is beyond embarrassing. It should be shameful, but deep inside me, something dark is stirring. Some part of me loves this. Loves the way I look. Loves what Rhydian is doing to me.
I relish and adore all of this. Surrendering. Being dominated. Submitting. It feels so good. Like a glass of cold water after a lifetime of crawling alone in the desert. I need this. Want this. Crave this. It is who I am, deep down inside. My truest self. I am someone who needs to fall and have someone strong catch me. I need to let go and forget everything, and trust that he has me.
And he does. Rhydian has me. All of me. I’m safe in his arms.
With Rhydian I can fall.
And fly.
Chapter twenty-six
I’m sprawled in a messy heap on the furs of the bed. My silk robes are all undone and tangled around me. It seems Rhydian carried me over to the bed and dumped me in it after I passed out.
My mouth is so dry, I can’t swallow. My muscles ache. My head is fuzzy. I’m all sticky and gross and covered in dried cum. But it is all worth it. I did it. Eventually. After many attempts. I did what Rhydian wanted me to do. I orgasmed in his arms while watching myself in the mirror. It was intense. Overwhelming. Strangely profound.
Groaning, I flop over onto my back. Rhydian is standing at the bottom of the bed, fully dressed, with a tall glass of water in his hand. I yelp and scramble up to a sitting position. My hands go to pull my undone robes over myself, but then I stop. Covering up in front of Rhydian is unnecessary. He has seen all of me before. And, I suddenly realise, I don’t mind him looking at me.
He hands me the water and I take it gratefully. The coldness soothes my throat and clears my mind.
I glance over at the heavy curtains shrouding the window. Bright light is peeking around the edges. It’s morning? I’ve lost all sense of time.
