Countdown

Sera wasn't prepared for the way the sleek vibrator would feel like a living thing inside her, a secret accomplice to Devon's every whim. She thought she could handle the weight of his control, but she wasn't prepared for the public torment. Dressed in emerald silk, she wasn't ready for the first jolt of vibration during a polite conversation, the way it would steal her breath and make her knuckles turn white on her champagne flute. She wasn't prepared for the dance floor, where he held her close and pulsed the toy in time with the music, pushing her to the edge of a humiliating orgasm in front of a hundred strangers. Each denial was a fresh agony, a tightening knot of need that made her cunt clench desperately around the unyielding silicone. She wasn't prepared for the dinner table, for his hand on her thigh and the brutal, high-intensity buzz that made her vision blur and her body lock in a silent scream. She certainly wasn't prepared for the countdown to midnight, when he finally let her fall apart. As the crowd roared "e;One,"e; her orgasm detonated, a violent, shattering wave of pleasure that bowed her back and whited out her vision while confetti rained down around her oblivious fellow guests. But the night wasn't over. Sera wasn't prepared for the raw, primal intensity of the hotel room, for the way he'd rip the gown from her body and worship her swollen, oversensitive clit with his tongue. She wasn't prepared for the overwhelming fullness of him sliding in alongside the toy, for the way he'd force her through another series of debilitating orgasms until she was floating in a haze of subspace, utterly broken and completely owned.