First, he turned the egg and plug on medium, then he unzipped the mouth hole, loosened the strap under her chin, and watched her reaction to the sensory input after going so long without.
But only for a few seconds. His cock was already rock hard, and he grabbed her left wrist, looped some fingers through the chest harness to anchor her, and then tickled her lips to get her to open them wider.
The second there was room, he crammed his dick into her mouth, wrapped his right hand around the back of her head, and sank all the way in, far into her throat.
Wolves can alter the size of their dicks. For a modern wolf, the mass has to stay the same, but they can go short and fat, or long and thin, and he went long.
It meant a lot of traveling to get all the way in and then far enough out to let her breathe, and he sank into thefeeling. Her throat squeezing him, her lips and tongue.Fuck, but he’d never tire of this.
Fifteen minutes later, when he was nearing an orgasm but holding back to enjoy her longer, his wolf surged up, surfacing in his psyche, and he figuratively stepped to the side to let his inner animal enjoy their girl. He didn’t completely yield control but handed over enough the wolf could act.
But this wasn’t just his wolf wanting to take everything in. Oh no, this was more than dominance and hunger. His wolf needed more. Recognition.Claiming.
His inner animal wanted to mark her, to make her take every drop while he held her exactly where he wanted her. Knife carefully monitored her breathing and scent while his wolf took over, slamming their hips against her face, ruthlessly fucking her while preparing to mark her and claim her in the way his wolf most understood.
His wolf didn’t understand why they couldn’t keep her. Why the one female whose wolf submitted so perfectly, whose pain and surrender tasted like everything he’d ever wanted, was the one female they could never truly keep.
The grief of it sat cold and sharp in his chest even as he fucked her face harder, deeper, chasing the tight heat of her throat. His wolf growled low inside him, but Knife kept enough control to stay out of her throat long enough for her to gasp air in every third thrust.
When he finally came, it hit hard — thick, pulsing jets shooting from his balls through his dick and straight down her throat. He held her head steady until he was empty, andthen the wolf stepped back before Knife had to make it happen.
But then, while fully back in control, so he couldn’t blame it on his wolf, before he zipped the mouth hole closed again, he brushed his thumb across her swollen lower lip, tracing the wet curve with a tenderness that surprised even him.
And then he stepped back in shock, because this wasn’t aftercare. Not yet.
And fuckbuddies don’t do that during scenes.
The realization landed like a punch to the solar plexus. He wasn’t supposed to feel this. Not with her. Not when he knew exactly why it could never work.
He zipped the mouth closed and walked to the wall for the TENS unit.
This was about shock and pain. Not tender moments.
He stepped between her legs, opening them wider, and placed the smallest TENS pads on either side of her clit. She’d have no idea what those touches meant, but she was about to find out.
He turned the dial and her entire body jolted the instant the electricity hit. Her shrieks easily escaped the hood, and she writhed hard against the ropes.
She’d come to him for pain, for the loss of control she feels when she hangs in his ropes, and he was damned well going to give it to her. He couldn’t change the motherfucking supernatural rules, but he could absolutely control what happened in this room.
He counted to seven, turned it off, counted to five, and turned it back on.
No warning. Just sudden, relentless electricity lighting up her clit from the inside while the knots ground against her with every twitch.
Off, and then back on at double the intensity. Her hips bucked uselessly, screams filling the room despite the leather hood.
He gave her a short rest while he retrieved his belt.
Back on, more screams, and he flayed her inner thighs while the TENS continued pulsing. Two completely different kinds of pain at once — the crisp, burning impact of leather and the buzzing, electric fire shooting through her clit. Her nervous system didn’t know which to fight first. She convulsed, jerking violently in the suspension, the ropes creaking as she tried and failed to escape either sensation.
He kept the layering going for several long minutes, alternating the strength of the TENS with fresh belt strokes, watching every reaction with quiet, clinical hunger.
Finally, he turned the unit off, removed the pads, gave her more fluids, reattached the chin strap, added another drop of cinnamon to the cottonball under her nose, closed the nose and mouth holes, and worked the pulleys again.
He raised her back into the air — higher this time — and set his phone for an hour and fifty minutes.
Nearly two more hours of nothing but ropes, knots, and cinnamon.
Then he would bring her down forthe last time.
