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I screamed into the pillow, burying my face again, then dug my teeth into it, biting hard enough that, had it been down, there'd have been a room full of feathers.
"Beg me," he breathed, his mouth closer to my ear than I had dreamed possible.
I hadn't felt him move.
I didn't know what he meant.
I told myself I didn't know what he meant.
He might mean beg him to stop, but that had never once made him stop.
Or he might mean beg him not to.
I didn't know. But the pain was overwhelming, my brain was offline, my thoughts disordered, and all my attention stretched between the horrific pain radiating through my entire body –
And the amazing pleasure beginning to radiate after it. Pools of hot, almost painful want, almost unendurable pleasure. Maybe it was endorphins, like the most ultimate runner's high ever.
Maybe it was the fet, magically kicking in to handle pain, the very thing it had been created for.
Maybe it was me, riding the storm of the beating and starting to crave it, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, please, I'm so close –
"Please, sir! Please, sir! Please – oh, my god!"
He slammed into me with my last cry, my pussy already throbbing around him, contractions tightening on his erection until he felt gigantic, huge enough to fill every empty place inside of me.
The shattering pain and pleasure bonded together and pushed me higher and higher, the last of the opiate in my blood hitting every pleasure center and dulling absolutely nothing of the sensation.
I screamed into the pillow and arched my back, driving my hips up to accept every inch of Cole I could take inside me.
The orgasm crashed over me, pulsing and pulsing and pulsing as I cried out.
In shock. In pain.
In joy.
