Still. After everything.
He can still make me blush.
“That’s not fair,” I argue.
“Never said I was a fair man.” He clicks it on. The buzz fills the quiet room.
“Here’s the game,” he says. “You hold it. Thirty seconds. No breaks. Don’t cum.”
“That’s...” I swallow. “That’s too long.”
“Then you’d better try hard.”
He hands me the vibrator. I take it with fingers that aren’t quite steady. He watches with those dark eyes, completely in control, and I press it against myself.
“One.” He counts slowly. Deliberately. “Two.”
I can do this. I can absolutely do this. I run a foundation.
“Three.”
Oh god.
“Four.”
The pressure builds. My thighs are already trembling.
“Five.”
“Nico...”
“DidI say stop?”
“No, but...”
“Six.”
I’m clenching everything. Jaw, fists, pussy... every muscle I own.
“Seven.”
I fail.
The orgasm crashes through me at seven, and I cry out, and he’s there to watch every second of it with that satisfied expression that used to infuriate me and now just makes me want him more.
“You failed,” he observes.
“Your counting was... deliberately slow... that was... easily... thirty seconds.”
“Excuses.” He takes the vibrator from my shaking hand. “Now you wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“Ten minutes. No touching. No cock. Just this.” He presses the vibrator back against me, still buzzing, and I nearly levitate off the bed.
“That’s torture!” I plead.
“That’s consequences.”
