Page 141 of Reckoning

He groans like it really is his cock, and he starts moving it in and out.

“Touch yourself.” He orders.

I shake my head, if I do that I’ll burn myself, I know it. I only just manage to blurt those words out as he fucks my mouth.

“I don’t give a shit.” He replies. “Touch yourself, make yourself come.”

He’s a bastard. An absolute bastard.

I have to shift around awkwardly to do it but my fingers find my clit and I can feel how disgustingly wet I am. Turns out I really am fucked up then. I really am as twisted in the head as I feared.

I start circling it, teasing myself, maybe if I can eek this out then the candle will be done before I climax.

Koen’s got his eyes darting between my legs and where my mouth is still granting his gun pleasure like it’s not an inanimate object, but evidently he hasn’t gotten a good enough view, because he forces me up, makes my kneel. My ankles are still bound so I can’t get away even if I wanted to.

I honestly have no idea how the pair of us are not on fire but more wax covers my skin. I can feel the heat of the flame too close to where my thighs are.

But the adrenaline pumping through me is making me reckless. And the look in his eyes, that feral, wild look, it’s turning me on far too much to be rational.

When a moan escapes my mouth, he grins, placing his finger and thumb so that he can spread my lower lips wide and he can see every second of my own handiwork.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He states. “When you’re done I’m going to fuck you one more time.”

I blink, trying not to register those words, to contemplate it. I can feel my body hurtling towards another orgasm. I can feel my forehead growing drenched with sweat. I don’t think I can last. No, I know I can’t.

I whimper, I shake my head and mercifully Koen pulls the shotgun from my mouth as I lose all control. I scream, I jerk out. At some point he must remove the candle but I don’t notice, I’m too lost in my euphoria. I’m too exhausted from how long this delicious torture has held me within its grasp.

I collapse face first into the bed. Panting. Heaving. Feel a pool of my own arousal beneath me.

Koen undoes my legs, soothes where the rope has torn my skin and then he places himself right behind me.

“You’ve been so good, Sofia. You’ve done me so proud.”

I can hear from that tone that he’s all wound up again, that he’s going to do exactly what he promised and he’s going to fuck me again. Only, I can’t move. I can’t do anything. I lay there, like we’re back at my house and I’m fast asleep, and he’s about to have his wicked way with me.

He slides his cock into me and it hurts, it burns, it fucking kills.

I hiss, clenching my jaw. Every muscle in my body protests. Every bone aches.

“You can take this,” He states. “I know you can.”

He clearly has far more belief in me than I do myself right now.

He picks up my hips, pressing me to him.

“You’re so wet.” He groans. “I think you’re pussy enjoyed being fucked like that, I think it likes being abused as much as I enjoy doing it.”

Maybe it does, maybe I do get off on it, but right now I’m too ashamed to admit it.

He starts off gentle, hitting that spot inside me that makes me moan, and stretch and writhe despite my pathetic state.

But then that feral monster I’m getting used to comes out to play. He tightens his grip, he picks up his pace, fucking me like he’s trying to break me. And I lay there. I stay still, I let him use me like I’m a fuck-toy solely built for his pleasure.

My eyes grow hazy, my body feels too heavy.

I don’t mean to do it but I pass out, I fall unconscious before he can finish.

Before he can force me to give him any more orgasms.