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“Please,” I whimper, overcome by the aching want that grows stronger by the second.
“The only thing they can’t quite get right,” he says, referring to the thralls that formulated the substance, “is how long it lasts.”
“W-wha—”
“And there’s such a long period of time before orgasm is even possible—”
“What?” I shout, tugging at the restraints.
“Don’t worry. You’ll come. Eventually.” He opens the vial and dips his finger in, then circles my nipple. I scream in frustration as the fire from my core settles in the tightly drawn up flesh.
“I need—” I gasp, shifting to get away from him. I’m restrained too well; he frees my other breast and repeats the torture on that side, too. “Please, I need to come!”
“You will. Just not for a while.” He puts the vial on the bedside table and strokes my damp hair back from my face. “In the meantime, you’ll suffer sublime anticipation.”
“Fuck you!” I shout, but what I mean is “fuck me, please, fuck me, make me come, do whatever you want to me just so long as I get the release I so desperately need.”
He chuckles and picks up the pink toy. He presses a button, and it gives a low hum. “You’ve used one of these before, haven’t you?” he asks. “A vibrator, I mean. Not this specific type.”
“Of course, I have,” I snap.
“I only wondered because you were...inexperienced.” He lowers the toy to my throbbing clit, and I moan. The soft silicone nubs bracket my stiff flesh, the vibration more like slow pulses that reverberate through my entire pelvis. He balances the toy on my mound. “Hold still. Right there.”
I open my mouth to question him, and he warns, “Not a single muscle. Otherwise, it won’t stay.”
What does it matter, if it won’t give me the relief I so desperately need? Then again, the thought of losing the stimulation is somehow just as bad. I feel my body climbing toward its peak and I silently chant, yes, yes, yes. But the moment I reach the apex of pleasure, it escapes me.
“No!” I shout, biting my lip when what I want to do is pound the bed and thrash at the unfairness.
Nathan pulls a chair up beside the bed, near my head, and sits back in it, just watching me.
“Are you enjoying this?” I hiss at him.
“I am.” He slowly unbuckles his belt, unfastens his fly. “I’m about to enjoy it even more.”
I don’t have to ask him what he means. He’s hard, the flesh peeking from beneath his foreskin flushed red. He grips himself and strokes slowly, groaning.
Another climax teases me, and it’s no less devastating to have it pulled away just because I know what to expect. A tear leaks from the corner of my eye. I’ve never been so close to orgasm, so painfully ready for it, only to linger at that point endlessly. It’s maddening pleasure and blissful torture.
“You’re so beautiful this helpless,” he says, his sweeping gaze drinking in every inch of my trembling form. His fist pumps his length in an unhurried rhythm. “It reminds me of the last time we were together.”
The last time, I was chained up in a dirt hole, I want to snap, but I can’t. Another near-orgasm approaches and I reach out for it with the only part of me that can move, my voice.
Nathan closes his eyes and makes a low, hoarse sound as my scream rises in pitch. He leans his head back. “You’re going to make me come.”
At least one of us will, I think, then I worry what that means for the rest of the night. Will he still fuck me? Will he make sure I finish once he has?
Of course, he will.
He has to, doesn’t he?
I focus on his hand moving on his cock, my head swimming against wave after wave of unrelieved lust. I don’t know how many times I nearly make it, closer and closer every time, until finally there is no build-up, no climb to enjoy, just the acute pain of needing to let go, wanting to let go.
It still never comes.
“It’s driving you mad, isn’t it,” he asks with a cruel smile.
“Make it stop!” I beg him.
“It will stop,” he assures me. “In time. I would never do anything to permanently harm you.”
“Fuck you!” I scream.
His breathing speeds up. So does his hand.
“Le me come!” I plead, knowing he has no control over the matter. I have to beg, anyway. “Please!”
“Be careful what you wish for.” His voice is tight. He lets go of his erection and stands to take off his pants. “You’ve lost count of the number of times your relief has been denied.”
“W-was I supposed to count?” I whimper, my mind barely rising above the maddening denial.
He shakes his head slowly and removes the cuffs from my legs, tossing the bar aside with a clatter.
