Page 145 of Nash
"You have a vibrator on my clit after spanking me ten times with a plug in my ass and you're telling me not to come? Those are—Sir, those are impossible parameters."
I increase the speed. She screams into the bench pad. My cock aches, the sound of her screaming vibrating through my whole body. I'm eager to bury myself inside her right now. I don't.
"Don't come."
"I can't—I'm going to—Please. Please, Sir."
I pull the vibrator away. She sobs. The denial rocks through her body, her hips chasing the sensation that isn't there anymore. Watching her chase it. Watching the frustration and need war across her body, as well as her fingers clawing at the bench legs. I'm so hard it hurts. The ache has moved past discomfort into something sharper, something that feeds on every sound she makes.
"Breathe," I say.
"I hate you."
"Color?"
"Green. I hate you and I'm green. Both of those things are true."
I press the vibrator back against her clit. Build her again. Her moans climb as her fingers tear at the bench legs, her body coiling tighter with every second. I watch her get close. Feel it in the way her thighs lock, the way her breathing stops. My breathing has gone shallow. My hand holding the vibrator is steady, but my other hand is gripping the bench so hard the leather creaks.
I pull it away.
"NASH."
"Sir."
"SIR. Sir, please. Please let me come. I need to come. I've needed to come since you bent me over this bench, and I have been extremely patient. The patience is over and I am begging you, which I never do. Which should tell you exactly how desperate I am."
Her voice breaking on the word begging. The brat, begging. Something primal moves through me, hot and possessive.
"Ask me again."
"Please, Sir." Her voice breaks. "Please let me come."
I press the vibrator against her clit. Full speed. "Come."
The orgasm rips through her. Her back arches off the bench, every muscle locking, her pussy clenching in visible pulses. The scream tears out of her before she buries her face against the leather to muffle it. Her legs give out and the bench catches her weight. The orgasm goes on, rolling through her in waves, making her body shake. Her fingers scrape against the leather. I watch every second of it. Every pulse, every shudder, every sound. My cock throbs so hard my vision grays at the edges.
I hold the vibrator steady until she pushes my hand away. Then I click it off and set it down.
"Breathe, Ruby."
She breathes. Ragged. Her face is pressed against the bench pad.
"Color?"
"Colors don't exist anymore. I am beyond the spectrum. I have transcended color."
"I need a word."
"Green." She turns her head. One eye visible. Mascara smudged. "Very, extremely, impossibly green."
I run my hands over her ass. Gently. Over the heat and the redness to soothe it. Down her thighs. Back up. The skin under my palms is hot from the spanking, and the contact grounds me, pulls me out of my own need for long enough to take care of hers. I reach between her cheeks and grip the base of the plug.
"I'm taking this out now," I say. "Bear down."
She breathes. I pull the plug out slowly. Her body releases it with a gasp, and her hands clench on the bench. I set the plug aside and reach for the lube. My hands aren't entirely steady. I've been hard for what feels like hours, the ache pulsing in time with my heartbeat. The sight of her bent over this bench with her ass open and her pussy dripping is testing every disciplined bone in my body.
"This is it," I say.
