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The intensity is like nothing I’ve ever felt in my life. Everything disappears except for Alistair’s fist, and I can’t hold back anymore.
I cry out as I ride the wave that careens toward climax, and then my orgasm hits me so hard that I feel like I’ll suffocate because I can’t fucking breathe.
I don’t care.
My pussy clenches Alistair’s fist, making me cry out again, because the added pressure ramps the climax up into the stratosphere.
I think I will die. I think I will dissolve. Then the next wave comes, this time spreading a spiraling heat and tingling throughout my entire body, from my face to my toes.
What is this wizardry? I’ve heard of “full-body orgasms,” but honestly thought it was an exaggeration. It was not. I can still feel it in my hands and feet.
As it fades, another softer wave comes in, more like a regular climax, and my abs crunch and then release. Holy mother of god. I come again as he slowly removes his hand, then lie back, all energy drained.
While I recover, still feeling the zings and the zaps, Alistair gently removes the restraints, clamps and spreader bar. I lift my blindfold. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Perhaps both.
I’m a mess.
I’m broken.
He broke me in the best way.
Chapter 23
Broken
“I’m broken,” I say, smiling. “You broke me.”
“You don’t look broken,” Alistair says. “You look fucking beautiful.”
We’re in the bath together, covered in bubbles, and while his foot is between my legs, mine is being massaged with those magical hands of his.
“I’ve never—” I start, but there are too many ways to finish the sentence.
I have his full attention. “You’ve never?”
I’ll pick one for now. “I’ve never had a full-body orgasm.”
He looks pleased. “Happy to oblige.”
“Do you think it’ll … happen again?”
“I should hope so,” he replies. “We’ve only just begun.”
True. But it’s also true that we only have four nights left. “It was incredible. Really. It was so good that it’s making me question my life choices.”
Alistair throws his head back and laughs.
“Seriously!” I insist. I’m also laughing. “What have I been doing with my life? I’ll tell you what. Wasting it! Wasting precious years when I could have been having mind-blowing full-body orgasms.”
“Well,” he agrees, as if acceding the point, “when you put it that way.”
He exchanges my foot for the other, and soon his thumb is working into my sole in a way that feels X-rated.
“You haven’t come yet,” I say.
He doesn’t seem concerned. “There’s time.”
