It circles my clitoris, and when his fingers enter me, my eyes roll back. Unable to contain a moan, the orgasm arrives.
He stays there until the trembling stops, then rises, taking off the rest of his clothes.
Lifting me again, he repositions us until I’m in his lap, my back to his chest, his mouth at my ear.
“Sit down,” he orders, resting his cock at my entrance. Low. Patient.
I sink down slowly.
God, he’s so fucking big the initial stretch makes me inhale sharply. He steadies me with one hand at my hip.
“Good.” His voice has changed again — less controlled, rougher. “You’re doing well.”
“That’s — very encouraging,” I manage, which is the most dignified thing I’ve said in this room.
I feel him everywhere. When I’ve taken most of him, I stop and breathe and wait for my body to negotiate a new normal, and he waits with me, his chest warm against my back.
Then I move, taking him all in.
His exhale is sharp, and I feel it against the back of my neck.
I move again, finding a rhythm, and open my eyes.
Something in the corner of the room catches my attention. A red light shines from high on the wall, steady and patient. A small camera.
I stop.
“Is that a camera?” My voice comes out remarkably composed, given the circumstances. “Is someone watching?”
He moves inside me with a slow, deliberate thrust upward that makes my question feel suddenly less urgent.
“No one watches these without my permission.”
“But what if?—”
“No one does anything without my permission.” Harder this time, the words and the movement arriving together. “Everyone here knows better than to look at you without my permission.”
He kisses down the side of my neck.
“But if you’re a good girl,” he says against my pulse point, “maybe I’ll let you watch the tape. When I’m done with you.”
I swallow. “And if I’m a bad girl?”
I feel the shift in him — a subtle thing, a tightening.
“Then I’ll have intimate blackmail footage of you, won’t I?” His hand slides around to my stomach, then lower. “But you won’t be a bad girl.” His fingers find where they’re most devastating. “You’re going to do as I say.”
I manage a nod. It’s all I have.
“Good girl,” he says and fucks me harder, increasing his pace with every thrust.
His hand works through it, and his hips drive up to meet mine. There’s a point where the sensation becomes almost too much.
“Rolan,” I whisper his name.
“You’re doing so well, Elizabeth. Come for me. Come all over my cock”.
That’s all it takes. The second orgasm hits me like a crushed wave.
