Page 179 of Terms of Exposure
I obeyed.
My body convulsed, another wave crashing through me, tears and drool streaming down my face.
"So fucking good—" His thrusts grew erratic, his breath ragged. "So fucking perfect—taking everything I give you—"
The vibrator kicked up a notch.
"MASTER!" The scream ripped from somewhere primal. My vision blacked out at the edges, my body seizing, every muscle locked in a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
"One more," he demanded, his voice cracking. "Giveme one more and I'll come so deep inside you—fuck—Emma—"
His hand snaked around my hip, finding where the vibrator's tail met my clit, and he pressed.
The orgasm wasn't a wave this time—it was a bomb. White-hot, obliterating everything in its path. I screamed until my voice gave out, until there was nothing left but a hoarse, broken wail that echoed off the walls.
And then—
The world went soft.
The edges blurred. The sounds muffled. The sensations that had been so sharp, so overwhelming, began to feel like nothing.
I was floating.
Not in the ropes anymore—somewhere deeper. Somewhere warm and dark and infinitely safe. The pain was gone. The pleasure was gone. Only stillness. Only peace.
"Emma," Damien's voice cut through—low, urgent, controlled. "Stay with me."
A pause—his hand firm on my hip, steadying the sway.
"Breathe for me."
Distantly, so distantly, I felt his hips stutter, driving deep one last time.
He came with a roar that shook us both.
And I felt it—pulsing, endless—mixing with the vibrations still humming inside.
"Mine—all—mine."
I wanted to stay.
Wanted to hear him.
Wanted to feel him collapse against me—wanted to catch the ragged edge of his groans against my shoulder.
But the warmth was already pulling me under.
Soft.
Safe.
Gone.
The last thing I registered was his voice—broken, desperate, reverent.
One last time.
"Mine—all—mine."
