Page 11 of His Secret Toy
Harper lets out a tiny yelp as her cum gushes out at last. It floods my tongue. I cradle her pliant body in my hands, tenderly keeping her open, taking in all the soft cum it ever wants to give.
My dick is so hard, it throbs with every pulse of her fucking juicy cunt. I watch her try to catch her breath, pushing in and out her chest, her tits bouncing like crazy.
Her thighs tremble continuously in my hands. I wait a moment, then I lift them higher and keep going.
I’m faster now. My tongue is steady, fingers slick with her. I work her right up to the edge—and pull back again.
She sobs. Real tears now. I wipe one away with my thumb but don’t slow.
“Please,” she says again. Voice cracked. “Please, I can’t—”
“You already are,” I answer.
I cup her full right tit and gently tweak her hard nipple as I continue. Her taste is driving me wild. I feel the steel rod in my pants straining to be let out and freed.
I push her further this time. Over and over. I edge her, then keep going. I work her until she forgets where the edge even is.
She breaks.
The second orgasm tears out of her like something involuntary. Violent. Her whole body lifts off the bed. Her thighs twitch. Her breath cuts in and out like her lungs don’t know how to keep up.
Still, I don’t stop.
Her mouth is open but she’s not making words anymore. Just raw, wrecked sound.
Her fingers tremble against the binds. Her throat’s wet with tears.
I slow only when her hips begin to falter—too sensitive now. Skin twitching. Now she’s crying for real. Mouth slack. Shoulders shaking.
I stop with my mouth only long enough to reach beside the bed. The drawer’s already open. I knew I’d need it tonight.
She can’t see what I take out.
It buzzes once in my hand. Just a soft hum. Small. Precise. She tenses before I even touch her with it.
“No—please—”
“You said that last time.” I press the vibrator to her clit.
Her head jerks back.
She screams.
I hold it steady while I slide two fingers inside her—finally. She clamps down around me like her body’s been begging for this exact pressure.
Her breath stutters. Her thighs pull tight. The tears start again.
I rotate the toy, angle it until her legs kick. Then I do it again.
Her voice breaks. “Roman—Roman, I can’t—”
I press deeper with my fingers. Curl them slow. She starts to come again, fast and messy.
“You feel that?” I say, lips at her stomach. “That’s what you earn when you give up everything.”
I don’t stop. I don’t let her recover.
Another orgasm builds on top of the last. Her body doesn’t get to choose. She’s crying and convulsing, begging into the mattress.
