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drove her to the brink of insanity. She strapped Coralyn again
and again, watching how her hips drove forward, paying
attention to the pitch of her wails and cries. She loved the way
her nails dug into the desk’s surface, the way her hips rocked
forward, trying to get away, and then trying not to when they
came into contact with the ledge.
Each time the strap landed on a different part of her skin.
Soon, all of it was glowing pink, such a pretty color, so pretty
against that red. Her hips drove forward with the pain, and
then back. She forced herself back. Soon, she wasn’t crying
anymore. Each time the strap landed, there was a muffled
grunt, a groan torn from her, a hiss of air, and then sobs. She
sobbed brokenly, but Giana watched Coralyn’s body and let it
tell her a different story. She wasn’t just sobbing because she
hated it and because it hurt. She could tell the pleasure was
mounting, that the orgasm that was going to steal over Coralyn
wasn’t going to be like any that she’d had before. She was
going to rattle apart. She wanted to see that happen.
She finally let up with the strap when Coralyn’s ass was
r /> glowing red, nearly as bright as those fucking panties. Giana
put her hand on Coralyn’s cheek and cupped her. Coralyn
hissed through her sobs.
“Are you making a mess against the edge of my desk? Is it
soaked where you keep grinding yourself? Should I check?”
“Oh god,” Coralyn sobbed. “Fuck, yes, please, no.”
She was a mess, so close. On the brink. She was gorgeous,
and so responsive. Giana guided Coralyn’s hips away, swiping
her fingers along the edge. As she suspected, it was beyond
soaked. Coralyn had drenched her panties, and the lace was
thoroughly inadequate for that kind of arousal. She was so wet
