"Better?" he asks, brushing some sweat-dampened hair off my forehead with surprising tenderness.
I nod weakly, unable to form words.
"Good," he says. "Because we're not done yet."
And then he's fucking me again.
Harder this time. Faster. His hips slamming into me with bruising force, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing obscenely in basement. I'm still sensitive from the last orgasms—too sensitive—and every thrust feels like too much and not enough at the same time.
"You're doing so well," he tells me, his voice rough with arousal. "Taking my cock so perfectly. Making such pretty sounds for me."
I am making sounds—desperate, broken little whimpers and gasps that I have no control over. My body is acting on pure instinct now, my hips trying to meet his thrusts despite the restraints holding me in place.
The pleasure builds again, impossibly fast, and I try to speak, try to tell him it's too much, I can't?—
But his fingers are back on my clit, and I'm lost.
I hear a sound.
A mechanical buzz that cuts through the fog in my brain.
I force my eyes open and see him holding something—a wand vibrator. Industrial-looking. The kind that plugs into the wall. The kind that looks relentless and unforgiving.
I gasp. "I can't?—"
"You can," he says firmly. "And you will."
He presses the vibrator against my clit while his cock continues to pound into me, and the sensation is immediate and overwhelming and absolutely fucking unbearable.
I come instantly.
No build-up, no warning. Just a sudden, violent orgasm that rips through my body like lightning. I'm screaming, thrashing against the restraints, my pussy clenching around his cock so hard it almost hurts.
But he doesn't stop.
The vibrator stays pressed against my clit, relentless and unforgiving, and another orgasm crashes over me before the first one even finishes. Then another. Then another.
I can't stop coming.
Can't catch my breath, can't think, can't do anything but feel as wave after wave of pleasure-pain tears through my body. My vision is flickering—white, black, white, black—and I can hear myself making sounds I didn't know I was capable of.
"That's it," he groans, his voice strained now with his own approaching release. "Come for me. Keep coming. Don't fucking stop."
I couldn't stop if I wanted to.
The vibrator is merciless, the angle perfect, his cock hitting that spot deep inside me with every brutal thrust. I'm drowning in sensation, drowning in pleasure, drowning in him.
Another orgasm. Stronger than the last.
My body arches off the table as much as the restraints allow, every muscle locked tight, and I see pure white?—
Everything goes black.
I wake up in someone's lap.
Warm. Solid. Moving.
His chest is rising and falling hard, like he just ran a marathon. Or came.
