The dual sensation was devastating. The fullness inside. The pressure outside. The perfect friction. The perfect rhythm. All of it combining into pleasure so intense I could barely breathe.
"Daddy, I'm going to—please can I—"
"Not yet." His voice was firm. Commanding. "Hold it, devotchka. Be good for Daddy."
I whimpered. My whole body was shaking with the effort of holding back. Of fighting my body's desperate need to come. The pleasure was building beyond what I could control. Beyond what I could stop.
"Please," I gasped. "Daddy, it's too much. I can't—"
"You can." His fingers circled faster. His thrusts stayed steady. Deep. Perfect. "You can hold it. You're strong enough. Be good for me."
Tears streamed down my face. My free hand fisted in the sofa cushion. My pinned hand squeezed his so tight I was probably hurting him. My core clenched rhythmically around his cock. My whole body fighting against the orgasm that wanted to crash over me.
"I'm trying," I sobbed. "I'm trying to be good. But I need—please—"
He captured my mouth in a fierce kiss. Swallowed my desperate pleas. His tongue swept inside. Claimed. Possessed. His hips never stopped moving. His fingers never stopped circling.
When he pulled back, we were both breathing like we'd run miles.
"Please," I whispered. "Please, Daddy. I can't hold it anymore. I've been good. I've waited. Please let me come. Please."
His rhythm increased slightly. Not much. Just enough that each thrust hit harder. Deeper. More intense.
His hand in mine tightened. His fingers on my clit pressed harder. His grey eyes held mine captive.
"Come for me, malyshka," he commanded. His voice was rough. Authoritative. Absolute. "Come for Daddy. Now."
Permission granted. The words were barely out of his mouth and my body obeyed. Like it had been waiting for his command. Like it couldn't hold back one more second.
The orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave. Overwhelming. All-consuming. Three weeks of tension and fear and desperate wanting releasing all at once in a wave of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
I came so hard I saw white. Actual white. My vision went blank. My body arched off the sofa. Every muscle locked tight. My core clenched around his cock in rhythmic pulses I couldn't control. Couldn't stop. Wave after wave of pleasure washing through me until I couldn't tell where I ended and it began.
I screamed. Loud. Probably loud enough that anyone in the compound could hear. But I didn't care. Couldn't care. Could only feel. Only experience. Only let myself be swept away by sensation.
"Daddy!"
Not Nikolai. Daddy. The word tore out of me. Primal. Essential. The only word that mattered in this moment.
I felt him groan against my neck. Felt his whole body shudder. Felt his rhythm falter as my orgasm triggered his.
His hips stuttered. Lost that perfect control. He buried himself deep. As deep as he could get. His cock pulsing inside me as he came. Filling me. Marking me. Claiming me in the most fundamental way.
We rode it out together. Both of us shaking. Both of us lost in sensation. Both of us holding onto each other like we were drowning and the other person was the only anchor.
The pleasure went on and on. Lasted longer than I thought possible. Longer than any orgasm I'd ever had. Like my body was releasing three years of holding everything together. Three years of being strong when I wanted to break. Three years of denying what I needed most.
Finally—finally—it started to subside. The intense waves became smaller ripples. The white behind my eyelids faded. My muscles unlocked. My breathing started to even out.
When I could finally open my eyes, the study came back into focus. The burgundy walls. The afternoon light streaming through windows. The leather sofa beneath me. Nikolai above me.
Neither of us moved. He stayed inside me. His weight pressed me into the cushions. His face buried in my neck. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest. Could feel his harsh breathing against my skin.
My own heart was still racing. My body still trembling with aftershocks. Small pulses of pleasure still sparking through my nervous system.
"I love you."
The words slipped out. Quiet. Barely a whisper. But unmistakable. Said in that post-orgasmic haze where honesty was easier than breathing. Where walls were down and truth just spilled out without filter.
