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I can only imagine how painful the crop will be against my clit, but I'm not going to back down now. And deep down, I'm curious. I nod breathlessly. "Yes," I gasp.

"You won't come," he warns. "The pain will stop your orgasm, and then my mouth will bring you back to the edge."

"Stop lecturing me and just punish me," I hiss, and he laughs.

"Brat," he murmurs, and then the crop blurs toward me.

I scream when it makes contact with my clit. The pain is white-hot, shutting every fragile bit of pleasure out for a moment, and I almost say my word. But then he's there, fingers parting my folds as he bends to drag his tongue over my clit, and the pleasure of it is so intense I feel like I'm going to pass out.

"Again," I gasp, and he looks up at me, startled.

He does it again. I'm so close. I've never been so close to coming without being able to, and it's the best and worst feeling all at the same time. His tongue is so hot, so perfect against my punished, swollen flesh, and he steps back, giving me one more stroke with the crop before dragging his tongue over my clit again.

Then he sets the crop aside and looks at me, panting and writhing in the restraints. I see his hand move, and I hear a buzzing sound.

My brain has only just registered what's happening when I feel the pressure of a vibrator against my clit, and my entire world shatters.

I thought he'd made me come hard before, but it's nothing like this. The orgasm makes my vision white out and my whole body tense up, bucking against the frame. I can't breathe. And he doesn't stop. Even when the orgasm starts to fade, he keeps the vibrator there.

"I want tears running down that pretty face before I let you stop coming," he growls, and I gasp, unable to speak. Another orgasm hits me on the heels of the first, and I thrash against the ropes, keening with pleasure. It doesn't stop. Instead of separate climaxes, it becomes a wave, ebbing and flowing until I don't know if it'll ever stop. I'm hanging from the ropes, lungs and chest tight, and I feel tears start to drip down my cheeks as I try to get air.

"Fuck," he growls, and the vibrator switches off. "You're so fucking perfect."

Before I know it, he's undoing the cuffs on my ankles. He turns me so I'm facing the frame and buckles the cuffs again, and then in one swift, hard thrust, he plunges his cock into me from behind.

He hasn't fucked me like this before, and it's exhilarating. He pumps into me with hard, fast thrusts, slamming his cock into me with a force that keeps me pressed to the frame. He grips my wrists with one hand where they're bound by the rope and my hip with the other, groaning as he thrusts again.

"Fuck, you're still so goddamn tight," he growls. "After all that, you're still squeezing my cock. I could fuck you all night like this. Such a perfect… fucking… pussy…" He slams into me again, and I cry out, breathless and overwhelmed with pleasure. It's so good. Mind-meltingly good, and I don't want him to stop. I can't come any more, but I don't care. The world has narrowed down to the sweat of his skin against mine and the flex of his muscles and the throb of his relentless cock, and I never want it to end.

"God I need to fucking come!" He slams into me once more, jerks out of me, and undoes the ankle cuffs, flipping me around again. I watch him thumb the ring open from around the base of his cock, letting it fall to the floor as he jerks himself roughly, his hand flying over his shaft as he stands an inch away from me. He grabs my chin with his other hand. "Watch," he growls. "Watch me come for you, pretty girl."

He groans as he starts to spurt, ropes of it flying over my skin. He paints my stomach and breasts and thighs with it, moaning with each throb as he coats me. "Fuck… so fucking pretty…" He strokes himself once more, stepping close enough to rub the tip against the taut skin of my stomach, smearing his cum as he eases out the last of his pleasure.

For a long moment he stands there, breathing hard, staring at me. "Fuck," he groans. "You're perfect, Oksana. So goddamn perfect. You were put on this fucking earth to ruin me."

My chest goes tight, because he has no idea just how right he is.

He goes into an adjoining room, which I realize a second later is a bathroom, and comes back with warm wipes. He cleans me off before he gently brings me down from the ropes, rubbing my wrists to make sure the circulation in them is fine. "Are you okay?" he asks quietly, and I nod, still mostly speechless.

"I've never… experienced anything like that," I manage. "It was… incredible."

"Good."

"I want to do it again. Another night," I add hurriedly. "I want you to teach me more."

"You're insatiable," he says with a rough laugh. "But it's almost dawn." He glances at a clock near the bed. "We should go lie down."

Before I can say another word, he scoops me into his arms and carries me out of the room and down the hall, not bothering to lock the door behind him this time. He lays me down gently in his bed and crawls in next to me, pulling me close to his chest as we slip beneath the blankets.

"Sleep," he says quietly, smoothing my hair. "The crash afterward can be a lot. Just get some rest."

My heart is still beating fast, but his hand on my hair, his even breathing beside me, and his warmth, lulls me into peace. I close my eyes, and before I know it, I'm fast asleep.

I wake hours later to the chirping of birds outside. I stretch, feeling the pleasant soreness in every part of my body, and Cormac stirs next to me. When he pops one eye open, I glance at the clock.

It's after ten in the morning.

"Won't you be in trouble for being late… or something?" I murmur sleepily, and he chuckles.