Page 44 of Stand Your Ground
I muttered the word, and Livia laughed as she pulled the toy off, and I fought through another strangely pleasurable, torturous withdrawal.
“Rude,” I said, but it was with a smile of my own, because itwaskind of funny.
“I’m sorry,” she said around her laughter. “I just — that was fucking hilarious.”
“I guess I do have a praise kink.”
“I think you have more kinks than you even know exist, Rook.” Livia slid the toy back onto me and I shuddered at the overwhelming sensation. “Now, focus. Do what you have to do to last. Think about something else — running drills or losing a playoff game or whatever works. If you can’t distract your mind, then zero in on your goal. Imagine you’re in a game and youhaveto score — or the team loses. Resist with everything you have.Last for her,” she said, and then she squeezed my knee as she flexed the toy down farther. “Last forme.”
“Fuck,” I groaned, loving those words from her lips enough to tell her I was about to fucking come again, but I did what she said and fought against it.
I tried to think about whatever I could to distract me from how good the toy felt. I thought about sand crabs and raccoons, about cooking and paddle boarding, about calm morning waves at the beach and the soft chirping of birds in the evening. I even tried using Livia’s example of imagining the loss of a game, the shuffle of skates back into the locker room, heads hanging low.
But none of it worked.
Because Livia was fucking me with the Fleshlight, the ribbed gel of it hugging my cock perfectly as the little machine sucked and pulled. And she wasn’t just silently fucking me, either. She was moaning, panting, whimpering, making all the sweet little sounds I imagined she’d make if I was fuckingher.
“Oh, Carter. Yes. Just like that. Oh, it feels sogood. I love when you fuck me like this. Yes. Harder. Faster. Fuck me deeper.”
“Christ,Liv,” I cursed, gritting my teeth against my climax.
When she started pumping faster, granting my silent wish, I knew I was screwed.
Switch gears, you idiot.
Don’t fucking come.
Game time. Imagine it’s game time.
Livia continued on with her moans and words of encouragement, but I did my best to ignore them. I kept pumping up into the toy but imagined I was on the ice, instead. I channeled that energy I felt when I was exhausted, when it was overtime and the next person who scored won the whole fucking game. I imagined it was all up to me, that my one job was to contain my climax.
It was the first time my body listened.
I found an almost Zen-like state of being, like Livia was muted under water. I felt what she was doing to me, but I willed my mind to focus on whatIwas doing. Every bit of my control went to holding back, to lasting just a little bit longer.
“God, yes, Carter, I’m coming. I’m coming!”
Livia started pumping the toy faster and I bit my lower lip so hard I released it with a hiss.
And then I broke.
“Fuck, I can’t—”
Once again, I didn’t finish the words before Livia removed the toy.
And this time was the worst.
I wasone fucking secondaway from busting, but the moment she pulled off, my orgasm froze. It was like pouring soda into a glass too quickly, the foam rushing to the top — but stopping just before it toppled over the lip of the glass.
Every nerve in my body was alive, burning and tingling as I trembled and cursed and clutched the couch cushions. I was fucking the empty air like I could find relief there, but my orgasm slowly receded, like the tide drawing back out.
“Fucking hell,” I panted, shaking my head. “I can’t. I can’t do it.”
“You can.”
“I can’t.”
Livia grabbed my chin until I looked at her. “Yes,” she repeated, her gaze sincere. “You can. And you will. One more time. All you have to do is last long enough for me to come, and you can come, too. Understand?”
