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Drip. Drip. Drip.

“There we go,” he chuckles. “What a beautiful puddle.”

The concrete between my feet darkens from my juice. I've never been this turned on. “Give me more,” I mewl. “I want to come, please, Jordan. God, please!”

His finger pulls out of me. I sob, turning to glare at him in disbelief. His smirk belongs on the face of a demon, not a mortal man. “Stay here,” he says. “Exactly like before. Don't move.”

“Where are you going?”

“Not far. Just getting something to fill your greedy ass with so I can have my hands free.”

My face is cherry-red. Jordan doesn't mince words. My ass and pussy flex over and over, demanding attention. The skin inside my legs is glossy from arousal. When he strolls to my racks of ceramics, my clit starts to thrum.

Lightly tapping a few of my art pieces, Jordan considers his options. There are several glazed pots, bowls, candle holders, but I don't think he's being serious; none of those can possibly fit inside me.

He darts a sinful look at me between the racks. Gripping a purple cone that's meant to hold rings, he arches his eyebrows. The base is flared, the tip thin as my pinkie, before it rounds out to a two-inch diameter. Bigger than the finger he slid inside my asshole.

Jordan approaches me, holding the piece to my lips. “Suck on it.”

I draw it in, doing as he says. It's hard and cold, but soon it absorbs the heat of my tongue. He tugs it away, saliva oozing off the smooth surface.

He says, “You're so quiet. No arguments?”

Rolling my shoulders, I stand taller. “Put it in me.”

Jordan's eyes widen. His cock jerks in his pants, called to life by my instruction. Why would I argue? I'm struggling to stand, every cell in my body screamsFuck me! Let me orgasm!My asshole is aching to be stretched after the wonders he inflicted on me. I want more, not less.

While I wait for him to walk behind me, he freezes up. His jaw works, turning the tendon along the right side into steel. Wrapping his fingers in my hair he drives his lips against mine. This isn't a kiss; this is being inhaled.

“Fuck,” he hisses, closing his eyes. He doesn't look at me. I wonder if he can't summon the strength … or if he's worried what I'll see, what he'll do, if he can't control himself first. “You're making this a challenge, Lorikeet. I'm trying to draw it out, and you keep throwing traps in my path.”

“Is that all it takes to break you?” I taunt him. “Asking you to stick something in my ass?”

His eyes fly open. They don't look like they belong to him—they're too vibrant, too unhinged. It was silly of me to think he wasn't a little crazy. He'd have to be to do all he's done to save me.It's my fault,I think, breathless under his stare.I asked too much of him. Dragged him down into the sinful pits of the abyss with me.

“I love you,” he whispers. “Remember that.”

Fear prickles through my blood.Is he reassuring me because he's about to do something awful?

Jordan grabs my wrists behind my back, presses the ceramic knob to my ass. In a firm, patient push, he slides it inside. My muscles squeeze it, arguing with the mix of pleasure and distortion. My clit throbs again, new tingles rushing through my belly until I'm hot and dazed. “Jordan!” I moan.

He pulls the purple ceramic by the flared base; it pops out. I gasp at going from stuffed to empty. I look at his face, then my vision blurs when he inserts the object again. In, out, he repeats it until my asshole is gaping, desperate to be hugging anything. Waves of pleasure attack me in new ways. More juice slides from my hyper-aware cunt until I feel it puddling on my feet.

“Jordan, please! Oh my god,” I groan wildly.

His fingers crush on my wrists, leveraging me down to the floor. Before I know it, I'm strewn over his lap as he sits. I can see my puddle a foot away, smell my own lust. I'm lying on my belly over his legs, ass high in the air.

With one elbow he pins my arms to my shoulder blades. That same hand takes holds of the self-made anal plug, pressing it in as deep as it can go. I squeal, thrash, hump his thigh. His chuckle comes from low in his throat. “You're going to come, aren't you? Any second now.”

“Please, rub my clit, touch me!” I beg.

“No. You'll come from this and this alone.” Jordan's palm slaps onto my ass. It's a barb of agony that melts quickly into mind-boggling pleasure. He spanks me a second time. A third. Every hit warms my skin, makes my clit buzz. The muscles in my asshole chew at the ceramic object filling me up.

The orgasm starts before I feel it begin. Pure delight that smooths over my brain to fill the crevices with nothing but passion. No thoughts, only pleasure. My cheek rests on the cold concrete as I shake violently. “Fuck!” I cry out, toes curling. Jordan plays with the ring holder—sliding it to my tight exit, pushing it back in, rocking it side to side until I come again.

“That's the hottest thing I've ever seen,” he growls over my squealing. “Fuck, you were made for this. Made for me. The sounds you make when you come are music.”

Fisting my hair, he lifts me off his lap. I'm naked on the floor; he climbs over me, abandoning the toy in my ass, both hands cradling my jaw. He kisses me and I’m able to flutter my eyes open. Jordan’s lashes rest on the shadows under his eyes. He hasn't been sleeping well. Dreaming of me, longing for me, tormented by the days we've been apart.