He strokes himself once and leans over me. He spits into his palm and fists himself tighter, stroking with a rough need that makes his breath catch. His other hand clamps around my thigh, holding me open and keeping me exactly where he wants me.
Then he moves with quick force. He grabs my hips with both hands and drags me up. My ass lifts into the air. My thighs shake under me.
He grips the belt with one hand and lifts my head. My eyes rise to the mirror.
I see everything. I see myself, mouth stretched under the tape, cheeks wet, hair tangled, eyes wild. I see him behind me, chest moving rising and falling, dick thick in his fist, gaze locked on my reflection. His free hand spreads me wider, his thumb pressing into my hip with bruising force.
He spits again, letting it drip between my cheeks. It lands hot on my skin. He spreads slowly.
I flinch from the contact, not from fear, but from the anticipation of what I know he plans to do. I know how deep he will go. I know how far he is about to push me.
My voice strains under the tape, my breath shaking, my body already tightening again for him.
He groans behind me, a low filthy sound that only comes out when he has lost every layer of restraint. Then he pushes into my ass.
The burn hits instantly, stretching and intense.
My scream tears into the tape as he drives in inch by inch until he is fully inside me. My chest hits the bed. Every muscle shakes while my body fights to adjust to the pressure and the size of him. I feel stretched to the limit. I take all of it.
My body opens for him, hungry for his cock, hungry for him. Every nerve fires at once. I shake under him, overwhelmed by the force of it.
He leans over me with his weight pressing into my spine, the heat of his chest settling across my back. His voice breaks behind my ear, low and rough as his hand grips the belt around my neck and snaps my head up toward the mirror. “That’s right,” he growls. “Take it.”
His hips slam forward without warning.
The sound fills the room. Skin against skin. Loud, punishing thrusts. It hits and reverberates around us. My body jerks forward with every thrust. My legs struggle to hold me up. He doesn’t slow. He doesn’t pull back. He doesn't give me a moment to breathe.
He fucks me like this is the only way he knows how to feel.
Hard. Deep. Relentless.
Each thrust sends heat through my bones and forces a cry into the tape. Tears gather in my lashes as pain twists with pleasure until I can't tell one from the other. I crave the next movement even as my body shakes from the last.
His breath breaks apart behind me. His hips drive into mine with force that punches air from my lungs. His rhythm stays brutal, and every movement lands deep inside me, dragging another helpless sound into the tape.
He releases the belt and my head falls forward, but nothing feels easier. His hands clamp around my hips with a grip that allows no movement except the one he chooses. He pulls me back onto his cock with rough strength, using my body like he needs this to settle the anger inside him. He moves with need that leaves me shaking. And my body answers him without hesitation.
My second climax crashes through me with violent force, tearing a muffled scream into the duct tape. My entire body convulses. My vision blanks white. My cunt clenches around nothing while my ass tightens hard around him, pulsing in helpless waves that make me gasp. Every muscle in me locks as I break apart under his weight, twitching uncontrollably, unable to stop the way my body keeps giving him more.
His thrusts turn erratic, deeper and rougher, driven by the way I clamp down on him. I feel him thicken inside me. I feel the tension race through his body. Every muscle above me tightens at once. He growls my name, gutturaland strained, and slams into me one last time before he comes, spilling hot and deep while his hands lock on my hips like he is anchoring himself to me.
He stays inside me. His breath drags heavy against my ear. His chest presses into my back. One hand grips my ass, fingers digging in. The other slides up my spine, like he can’t pull himself away.
He doesn’t let go.
Even when the room stops spinning. Even when my legs stop trembling. Even when my throat burns from screaming into the tape. Even when aftershocks keep rolling through my body in relentless waves. I feel him everywhere. I feel the stretch of him inside me. I feel the way my ass keeps fluttering around him, oversensitive and spent.
Then he collapses onto me, his full weight folding over my back. His chest rises and falls against mine in harsh pulls of breath. His forehead rests beside my neck, skin hot against my shoulder. The duct tape is still sealed over my mouth, slick with spit and sweat, but I don’t move.
I listen to his breathing. I listen to the silence. I let the aftermath settle over us while he stays wrapped around me like he is afraid to let the moment end.
Then I feel it.
A drop of something warm lands on my skin. Then another. It isn’t sweat. It isn’t spit.
My eyes lift to the mirror in front of us, the glass fogged around the edges from our bodies, from the heat, from everything that just tore through us.
Seth’s face is half hidden behind me. His hair sticks to his forehead. His jaw stays locked so tight I can see the muscle jump beneath his skin.
