Page 116 of The Freedom in Captivity

Every word from him becomes more and more faded as my body’s entire focus is on the orgasm he’s pulling forth. The mindless battle inside me that I won’t win or lose: I’ll explode.

“Ma lune.”

For the slightest second, his thrusts pause. And then they quicken with an unimaginable pace. His fingers painfully grip into my skin. Painful but oh so fucking right.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how much I’ve missed you saying those words to me.”

Then I’ll say them over and over so he’ll never experience the loss again.

He grips my neck with one hand, forcing my face on his. My eyes flutter shut, the effort to hold on growing less by the second. Between his pace, his piercing, his everything, holding on isn’t an option and my body stiffens before releasing, my muscles becoming liquid all while my core clamps down on his cock.

My cry sounds louder in the echoey basement and I wonder if I can be heard from above, but then don’t care if I can because the rattling of the chains as my arms strain to grip something, his own breaths, and the blood rushing through my ears are all I can hear.

“That was your only one,” he announces suddenly.

My only orgasm?

His thumb beneath my chin controls my face again. My eyes open, about to question his words when he continues.

“The only one you’ll close your eyes for. The next time you come, you will look at me.”

Oh.

His thrusts pick up pace again, but I still haven’t come down from the previous orgasm. My insides clamp again, everything so damn sensitive, nothing’s making sense anymore. I think I come again. Or maybe it was simply a long continuous one.

My cries grow louder, my arms jerking against the restraints. While I crave touching him, I also wouldn’t change this for anything in the world.

“Ma lune,”I repeat, knowing how much he enjoys it.

Thrust.

“Ma lune.”

Thrust.

“Ma lune.”

Thrust.

And—"Mon soliel, you’re fucking mine and you’re never leaving again.”

Warmth floods my insides, his thrusts ending with a final jerk. His lips smash against mine, our moans combining within a heated kiss that sets my insides on fire once again.

Slowly, he pulls back from the kiss, his breaths coming out in short pants. He cups my cheek before stroking down my neck, my side, and holding onto my thigh.

“You okay?”

“That felt amazing, Flynn. I’m fantastic.”

“Feet down,” he commands at the same time he lowers me, keeping one arm around my waist to steady me as he reaches up and undoes each cuff one at a time.

Freed, I stumble. The weightless feeling returns, but only because he catches me with a throaty chuckle.

“Guess I’m not as okay as I believed I am.”

“That’s fine.” His arms come around me, and then in a movement so quick, it makes my head light, I’m cradled against his chest and he’s carrying me to the sleeping bag I was once so happy to use.

I reach for him again, but he backs away to get dressed, before tossing me my clothes. I suppose, as much as I want to live in the moment, this isn’t even his house and walking around naked isn’t an option.

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