Chapter Text
“And here I thought I wasn’t going to be able to walk in the morning”
That was how it had started, those words you’d spoken in a bratty little voice, head thrown over your shoulder and singular eyebrow raised.
It had given you a good opportunity to look him over too, bare in all his glory atop you.
Bronzed skin perfectly toned and seemingly endless over unyielding muscles framed perfectly by the light coming from behind him. Light that filtered through the dark black of his hair to reveal slightly chocolate hues to it, light that seemed to also shine out from his transcendent eyes.
In contrast, you were all but one with the mattress, face pressed down with your ass present to him, until you'd lifted your head to sass him into action.
You should have known better.
He’d been working you open, slowly, gently, worshipping you like he had no other obligations - which was a rarity given how sex was often a quick, fervorous affair given how little free time he had.
Long, slender fingers had teased you, his skin burning against your own where it made contact. You already felt like a gooey mess on silk sheets as he had you whining and moaning beneath him.
He was preparing you for a good, long, thorough fucking, fingers coiled inside of you, pumping in and out with a rhythm that was driving you to madness. A madness that had made you speak, made you irrevocably irreverent.
Oh how quickly you regretted those words. How you’d have immediately taken them back if only you could.
Alas.
He’d stared down at you, golden eyes blazing and drilling into you with the intensity of a thousand suns - and promptly removed his fingers.
It could have been hours, it could have been minutes. Either way you’d lost count of the number of orgasms you’d had. One after another, after another, after another. Waves of pleasure so consuming that you’d lost all control of your body and been reduced to a pathetic, whimpering mess. You could feel every sensation with an insanely sharp clarity, and not just what he was doing to you, but everything.
Every fold and crease of your flesh against the slippery silk of his bedsheets. Your drool pooling beneath you, sliding up and down your face and smearing across your chest. Fingers digging into the bed above your head, curled up so tightly that if there was nothing soft to cushion then your nails you’d have cut into your own hand. Breathy moans were tumbling from your lips in a practically unending stream, echoing off the walls and reverberating in your skull.
If you had to endure another minute you were sure you’d go insane.
He showed no signs of mercy.
Nothing helped.
You knew how much he enjoyed you begging and you’d tried begging him over and over again, but earned nothing but a round of tutting and even more sensation. Unlike begging, you’d only tried crawling away in utter desperation once, bunching up the sheets and dragging yourself away from him. It hadn’t gone well.
You didn’t even make it more than a foot away before ethereal hands, not his physical ones in any case, wrapped around your waist and yanked you backwards. The very feeling of fabric slipping against your skin as you were dragged back beneath him had you sobbing, and you were sure he only let you get so far as you did so he could deliberately pull you further back.
Another orgasm, another wave of renewed sobbing.
Worse yet, the crying only served to worsen everything. The feeling of tears on your face, the dehydration, the sound - but you couldn’t stop yourself either.
You didn’t know whether it was better or worse that there was nothing physically inside of you. His fingers long gone, only his psychic pressure forcing you to cum over and over and over. Again - your walls clamp and flutter as you feel him root around inside of you and in your head.
“No, no, no more-“ still, your begging makes no difference.
You can’t even see anymore, eyes screwed shut and stars dancing behind them as every orgasm is drawn out and prolonged, before the next one comes immediately after.
Hours. Hours must have passed. They had to have.
You were completely boneless now, not even capable of fighting, struggling. It was all you could do to muster the strength not to choke on your own drool.
The pleasure slowly fades, all that is left is your body, motionless against the mattress. Finally, finally, he stops. It was almost blissful in relief, if not for how completely wrought out you were.
It’s then that you feel it. A familiar feeling.
His cock, huge, thick and dripping - now pressed up against you. You’d completely forgotten what he was working you open for all this time.
He slips it in with a single thrust with no resistance, in spite of his size, and your entire body too lax and loose.
“Now to thoroughly ensure you won’t be walking for the next week, my dear.”