Page 74 of Good Girl

His movements jostle the vibrator, and we fall into a tortuous cycle where the vibes are perfectly on my clit and then bumped to the side, giving me half a breath of relief.

But somehow, not, at the same time.

I feel like I am burning alive.

“Come on, princess. One more. You can do it. You can give me one more. It’s right there, I can feel it. Your pussy is so…fucking…tight right now.” Angel grinds out, thrusting in on every word, physically enunciating his pleasure. “I want one more. I need to feel you come around my cock, then I am going to come in this tight little pussy. Fuck, I feel like it was made for me. One more orgasm, princess. You can do it.”

His words barely register. My nerves are screaming at me to make it stop. Make it all stop. Everything tingles. Everything feels like it’s on fire. Every muscle screams with stress. There is a buzzing in my ears, and my blood is roaring through my veins.

“Push down, princess. Squeeze. Make yourself come on my cock.”

I try to squeeze, I think I do. But then Angel readjusts the vibrator, and now it's no longer being moved by his thrusts, which are shallower, no longer jostling things out of the way.

The unrelenting vibration is too much. I feel like I am going to pass out. My face feels numb, and my mouth falls open. I think I might be screaming. I don’t know if I’m even breathing. Pins and needles prick into every bit of my skin. My vision has tunneled, and all I can see is the white vibrator on my clit Angel’s cock thrusting in and out of me.

I shake my head. Itburns. I’m not going to come. My clit is going to burn right off. The pleasure hurts. I can’t.

Something brushes against the side of my breasts, then pain explodes in my nipples just as I’m rocketed at full speed up and over the edge, and my consciousness explodes like a firework. A male groan punctuates the haze just as everything goes my last piece of consciousness goes dark.

Chapter 36

Derek

I’m shocked to hear music flowing through the apartment as I push into the apartment and quickly swing around to capture the door before it slams shut behind me. Darcy’s scene should have been over by now, but by the sounds of things, it may be ongoing.

I down the short corridor to the apartment and then turn back to the open door. What action should I take here? There was no real discussion about Xavier and I leaving the apartment while Darcy—and Hudson—had their fun with Emery. It was just an assumption we all made when we discussed our scenes.

Gently, I guide the door closed, reducing as much of the noise as possible, then shift the food to my other hand so that I can check the time. As I expected, the scene was supposed to be over by now. Reaching into my pocket, I check my phone in case I missed a message, but there is nothing. Absolutely no indication that the scene has run over and they need more time.

When in doubt, stick to the original plan.

As quietly as I can manage, I make my way into the apartment. Almost immediately, I spy Hudson and Darcy in the farthest corner of the apartment in the area that Darcy claimed for his ropes.

Both are still shirtless, but they are holding water bottles as they stare at something—or someone—in front of them.

As quietly as I can, I put the paper to-go bag down on the kitchen counter, but it must not have been quiet enough, because Darcy turns and we make eye contact. He salutes me with his half-empty bottle of water, then indicates that I should join them.

I am not prepared for what I see.

Emery is fast asleep in the custom chair Darcy had designed, with her head tipped back against the headrest and turned to the side. She is covered in varying shades of blue and black rope, all intricately woven together, and there is drying cum covering her breasts, which feature nipples that are bright red with peaked tips.

So, he decided to use the clamps, then. It’ll be interesting to find out what her reaction was to them later tonight when we all debrief together.

I trace my gaze down her body to her thighs, which are tied so they are spread wide, and down to her pussy—fuck, is that cum dripping out of it?—which is also red and puffy, just like it was last night.

I take deep breaths because I cannot get hard right now, even though blood is very definitely rushing south. Xavier’s scene is after lunch, and I need to play a part in that. I absolutely cannot spend the next few hours hard. It will ruin Xavier’s scene.

But, fuck, this is not making it easy.

“How long has she been out?” I ask as enough cum builds at her entrance that another drip starts to form.

“Only a few minutes. I’ve taken all the photos I want, and we’ll get her untied in a minute.” He passes me his phone, and I scroll through the images.

Even in this, Darcy shows his artistic tendencies.

There are up-close photos of the knot between her breasts, covered in cum. And the knots that bind her wrists to her ankles. There’s a photo taken from near her pussy that aims up her body, all while tastefully keeping her pussy out of the actual shot. Though there are less tasteful images of her pussy, my favorite is the one with a finger inside of her, cum oozing around the digit. And another photo of her face, relaxed in her post-orgasmic state, hair a mess and cheeks rosy.

There is even a video of the first dribbles of cum slipping out.

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