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I whimpered.

His palm slapped the tops of my thighs several times, the sharp sting painful in yet another way. Then his fingers slid through the slickness between my legs and found my clit. He was rubbing me. Then spanking me. And then fucking me with his fingers. He wasn’t even holding me down anymore, but my body refused to move, almost as if I was actually submitting to this, becausemaybe I was. And all I could do was clutch the edge of the island and take it.

Takeeverything.

Until my body was wound too tight and there was nothing left to give.

“Come for me, Sloane,” he said, and the words were a command, though the tone was gentle. “Come now.”

And I did.

My orgasm slammed into me with the force of a freight train. My knees buckled and the kitchen island beneath me was the only thing holding me up. Waves of sensation crashed over me, each one more intense than the last. He kept rubbing me, kept spanking me, working me through every last ripple until I sagged against the counter, breathless and dazed.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

“We’re not done,” he warned, and the words should have worried me, but I was too far gone to care.

Without warning, his fingers drove back inside me again. Two, then three.

I cried out.

It was too much. Everything was too much.

I felt like I was going to break.

But he kept finger fucking me, his thumb against my clit, his other hand pressing me down into the cool marble, and I started to beg.

“Please,” I begged. “Nikolai, please?—”

“Come again,” he growled.

“No! I can’t—” I shrieked.

“You can,” he demanded.

His fingers fucked me faster. Harder. Deeper.

When the second orgasm hit, it was just as intense as the first, but this time, when my body went limp, he didn’t stop.

He kept going.

He was unrelenting, working me through the aftershocks until my body started to climb again.

“No,” I gasped. “I can’t. Please! Nikolai, please.”

He spanked my sore aching pussy, and I shuddered.

“You can,” he growled, and then his hand was back on me, and he was fucking me with his fingers again. Fast. Deep. Unyielding.

I was lost in it, in the intensity of it. In the way he was demanding every part of me, and in the fact that I was giving in.

Another orgasm built, and this time when I came, I cried out his name. He didn’t stop, and I didn’t ask him to.

My third orgasm was the most intense. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could do was feel. It was terrifying and incredible at the exact same time. I never wanted it to end.

When I was finally spent, I sagged against the island, breathing deeply and trying to process everything that just happened.

His voice against my ear froze me in place.