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A flash of panic ran through her as he left her exposed and open, his footsteps receding.
The sound of water running told her he was in the powder room off the entry. A few seconds and it stopped. She expected to hear his footsteps returning, but he was quiet.
Until the faintest clicking noise emanated from the vicinity of her pussy, and then a whir, and the cold against her nub began to thrum.
Another click, and it oscillated faster. She involuntarily moved against it; the intense sensation so soon after coming was beyond arousing, and she cried out as it flooded her.
Over the whir, she heard his belt shoosh through his pant loops in one swift motion.
The sound was far enough away that he must still be by the bathroom. She pictured him leaning against the doorjamb, controlling her fervor with a remote, watching her reaction.
She was so wet, any second the toy would slip out of position, and she squeezed her thighs together to ensure it didn’t.
His footsteps brushed against the carpet; he was coming closer. And then he slipped his hand between her legs, pushing them apart. Oh, she was going to . . .
The whirring stopped.
Maybe he wasn’t going to let her come so quickly this time around. She heard the sound of a zipper, and—please—his clothes rustle to the floor.
Then he was rifling in the bag again, and her heartbeat thudded in her ears, but not loudly enough to drown out the electronic clicks, three in rapid succession. The whirring began again.
She turned her head, stifling her cries in the pillow he had positioned for her. She was so dangerously close, she just needed a little more . . .
Another click, and she braced for more intensity.
But it stopped.
Damn it.
Her head sunk further into the cushion and she exhaled a deep breath, her heart racing from how he had yanked her back from the edge.
She heard the sound—a crack—before the sting registered, and she yelped, her voice sounding removed, distant.
Again she heard the sound and felt the sting. Leather against her ass.
His belt?
He kept going. The sensation heated, radiated through her body, warmth displacing the aching cold that had taken up residence inside her. She thrust her behind back toward him.
Again.
Soon she stopped counting the number of cracks, the stings, the pulses of fire and instead let herself float in the tempo of sound and sensation.
The heat radiated from his legs behind hers as he moved the thong to the side with his fingers, leaving just enough of the satiny material over her mound to hold the tiny vibrator in place.
His cock, covered in latex, nudged her lips apart, stretching her, bringing her down to earth.
He gripped her hips and slid deep inside her, then stood still.
Another click, and the toy was on again, vibrating against her while he withdrew and plunged hard. Her cheek chafed against the cushion with each thrust.
The sting and the heat radiated anew, exquisite. A frenzied cry escaped her mouth, a sound she didn’t recognize, and her muscles gripped and held him deep inside her, pulsing as if she would never let go.
He came right after she did, but he didn’t withdraw, and he didn’t turn the toy off; it was vibrating wildly.
Was he trying to drive her mad?
It was way too much stimulation.Stop, she was about to tell him, but before the word could form, he placed his palm flat on her back, above her hands.
