“Not yet,” he says, though I can see how much it costs him to deny us both. “I want one more like this.”
He increases the vibration again, then lowers his head between my thighs. The first touch of his tongue against my oversensitive flesh makes me cry out. Combined with the relentless vibration inside me, his mouth brings me to the edge embarrassingly quickly.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against me. “Give me one more.”
When his fingers press inside me while his tongue works my clit, the fullness is exquisite—stretched and filled from both sides. The contrast between the unyielding plug and his living, moving fingers creates a friction that has me ready to shatter.
“Soren!” I cry out as the third orgasm crashes through me, more intense than the previous two combined. My body convulses, inner muscles clamping down on his fingers while the plug continues its merciless vibration.
He switches off the remote as I come down, giving me a moment’s respite. I lie there, chest heaving, limbs heavy, feeling thoroughly claimed already.
“Three,” he says with satisfaction, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling up to kiss me deeply. I tastemyself on his tongue, and something primal stirs in me despite my exhaustion.
“Now,” he says, pulling back to look into my eyes, “I think you’re ready.”
The anticipation in his voice sends a fresh wave of arousal through me. He reaches between my legs, gently testing the base of the plug.
“This might be uncomfortable at first,” he warns, his voice gentler than before. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
I nod, nervous yet eager. He sees the conflict in my eyes and kisses me again, softer this time.
“Trust me,” he whispers against my lips. “I’ll make it good for you.”
He reaches for the bottle of lubricant, warming it between his palms before coating himself generously. The metal barbells gleam in the low light, and I swallow hard at the sight.
With careful movements, he begins to ease the plug out, his eyes never leaving my face. The sensation is strange—a slow, slick slide that leaves me feeling oddly empty when it’s finally removed.
“Breathe,” he reminds me, flipping me onto my stomach and positioning himself between my thighs. He pulls my hips back toward him, and squeezes my thighs closer together.
He stays on one knee, squatting with the other, grabbing a handful of my hair and using it to pull me back against him. I feel the blunt pressure of him against me, so different from the plug. Larger, warmer, alive.
He pushes forward with agonizing slowness, giving me time to adjust to each inch.
The stretch burns despite the preparation, and I tense involuntarily.
“Relax,” he soothes, stroking my hair. “Bear down slightly—it helps.”
I follow his instruction, and he slides deeper, the metal of his piercings creating an entirely new sensation as they drag againstsensitive nerve endings. “Fuck,” he groans, his composure finally cracking. “You’re so tight here. So perfect.”
The pain gives way to a fullness that borders on too much yet somehow makes me want even more. When he’s fully seated inside me, we both pause, adjusting to the intensity.
“Okay?” he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding still.
I nod, unable to form words. The feeling is indescribable—invasive yet intimate, painful yet pleasurable.
He begins to move, shallow thrusts that gradually deepen as my body accommodates him. Each stroke sends the metal barbells dragging against my inner walls, creating friction in places I never knew could feel pleasure.
“Look at me,” he commands, and I force my heavy eyelids open to meet his gaze in the mirror near the bed.
What I see there steals my breath—beyond the lust and possession is something raw, something almost vulnerable. For this moment, he’s as exposed as I am, as consumed by what’s happening between us.
“Mine,” he growls, increasing his pace. “All of you. Mine.”
His hand slides around to circle my clit, and impossibly, I feel another orgasm building. I didn’t think I had anything left to give, but my body responds to him like it was made for this purpose.
“Come for me again,” he demands. “One more time, with me inside you here.”
The pressure builds, different from before—deeper, more intense. When it breaks, it tears through me like a storm, my entire body convulsing around him. I cry out his name, clinging to him as the world dissolves.