Page 90 of Game Over

My second orgasm hits without warning, more powerful than the first. I scream his name as my cunt clamps down around him, my vision blurring at the edges.

I’m still trembling with aftershocks when Ryker grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. The water continues rising around us, now reaching below my chin. The fear of drowning mingles with my post-orgasmic haze, creating a cocktail of terror and pleasure that makes me dizzy.

“You know what I love about you, Kira?” His voice is dangerous, smooth as silk. “The way your pussy gets wetter the more scared you are.”

My cheeks burn with shame.

“N-no, that’s not?—”

He slaps me lightly across the face, just enough to shock. “Don’t lie to me. I felt you clench around my cock when that wave almost covered your face.” His hips grind against mine, still buried deep inside me. “Fear makes you fucking drip.”

“Please,” I beg.

“Please, what? Please stop telling you what a filthy little slut you are for danger?” His teeth scrape my neck. “The more terrified you are, the harder you come. It’s beautiful how broken you are for me.”

A sob escapes me because he’s right. Each wave that threatens to submerge me sends a fresh pulse of arousal between my legs. The rising water, the restraints, the possibility of drowning—they shouldn’t turn me on, but God help me, they do.

His fingers dig into my jaw. “Tell me how much your sick little mind loves being afraid.”

“I—I can’t,” I whimper, even as my hips buck against him.

“Your body’s already confessed.” His laugh is somehow both cruel and tender. “Such a twisted little fucktoy you are. Getting off on your own terror.”

A particularly large wave crashes over us, momentarily submerging my face. I come up choking, panic surging—and with it, an intense wave of pleasure that makes me moan obscenely.

"There it is," Ryker purrs. “Your darkest truth.”

The water sloshes around us, cold and terrifying, but I don’t care anymore. Something inside me breaks open—or maybe it heals—as I stop fighting what I am. What I’ve always been.

I lean forward against my restraints, capturing Ryker’s lips with mine. The kiss is desperate, hungry, an admission I couldn’t make with words. His mouth opens instantly, his tongue claiming mine with the same possessive energy that defines everything about him.

When I pull back, my eyes meet his. Those beautiful, dangerous eyes that see all of me, even the parts I’ve tried to hide from myself.

“I’m your little fear slut,” I whisper, the words sending a shameful thrill through my body. “I always have been.”

His expression shifts—just for a moment—revealing something beneath the dominant mask he wears. I glimpsed tenderness when he confessed his love to me in his living room and told me I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

I know this roughness is for me. He’s giving me exactly what I need—what my broken, twisted part has always craved. The fear, the danger, the edge of pain that brings me to heights of pleasure I never imagined possible.

But beneath it all is his love. His protection. The way he promised to reshape my self-image. The way he vowed to spend his life on his knees for me, even as he forces me to mine.

“Say it again,” he growls.

“I’m your little fear slut,” I repeat, louder this time. “And I fucking love it.”

His eyes darken with lust, but also love. A look that reminds me of how he watched me sleep for hours straight, confessed he’d never felt this way before, and gave himself to me completely.

The water continues to rise, but so do we, as the platform he built lifts us, keeping the water always below my chin, but I barely notice it now. All I can feel is Ryker’s relentless rhythm, his cock stretching me impossibly wide as he pounds into me against the post. My body should be exhausted, but I’m more sensitized than ever, every nerve ending screaming with pleasure.

“You think we’re done?” Ryker growls against my ear, his breath hot on my neck. “Not even close.”

His hands grip my thighs, tilting me as much as the restraints allow. The new angle sends shocks of pleasure radiating through my core.

“Oh God,” I pant, my head falling back against the wooden post.

“That’s it,” he hisses, his pace becoming more punishing. “But you know what, Kira? You’re such a good little slut, you’re going to come for me again.”

I shake my head weakly. “I can’t—I can’t possibly?—”

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