Page 173 of Fractured Devotion
I slam down on him, clenching hard around his cock and grinding until we’re both shaking.
The tension builds, coiling tight between us.
“Don’t come yet,” I warn, riding him faster and harder.
“Please,” he groans, straining against his bonds.
“Not until I say so.”
He bites back a desperate growl, his body trembling under mine.
I lean close, my lips brushing his ear again. “Now,” I whisper.
We shatter together, both of us crying out as I clench tightly around him, his cock pulsing deep inside me.
His body arches, helpless against the orgasm ripping through him.
I ride out every wave, milking him dry until we’re both gasping.
When I finally stop, I collapse over him, breathless.
His wrists are still bound, his body limp beneath mine.
“Untie me,” he pants, his voice hoarse.
But I don’t move yet. Because now, the real game begins.
And I have questions he can’t run from.
I stay on top of him, our breaths tangled, our bodies still connected in the aftershock.
His wrists flex against the cuffs again, but there’s no struggle now.
Only surrender.
I shift slightly, rolling my hips with a pace meant to draw every reaction from him. He lets out a shuddering breath.
“You’re not in a position to demand anything,” I murmur, my voice dripping with satisfaction.
He groans low, his head tilting back as I tighten around him, still painfully sensitive.
“Celeste…” he rasps, his voice breaking from need and exhaustion.
I trail my fingers down his flushed chest, circling each red mark my nails left. “You said you’d give me everything tonight,” I remind him softly.
His breath stutters, the weight of those words sinking deep. “What do you want?” he asks, though he already knows.
I lean in, my mouth brushing his jaw.
“Everything you know about them, I suspect you answer to Rourke,” I whisper. “Every name. Every hidden file. Every plan they buried under the clinic.”
His body tenses under me, though his restraints hold him tight.
“You think I won’t trade this for your freedom?” I ask, grinding down smoothly and drawing a choked groan from him.
“You’re ruthless,” he breathes.
“No,” I correct, dragging my tongue along his throat and tasting the sweat and surrender. “I’m finished playing their game. And I’m using every tool at my disposal.”
