Page 108 of Gamebreaker

She pushed three fingers into me this time, and the stretch was enormous and perfect, and she held the belt with her other hand like reins, pulling my arms back just enough to keep me exactly where she wanted me. She fucked me slow and deep from behind, and I lost my mind. Completely. My last functioning brain cell packed a bag and left no note behind.

"Cam. Cam. Can I... please can I..."

"No."

I sobbed.

She brought me right to the edge and stopped. She pulled her fingers out completely and just rested her hand on my burning ass while I shook and cursed her entire bloodline. Then she started again. Brought me up and abruptly stopped.

The third time, I begged. Really begged. Not cute, not ironic, not performative. Raw and stupid and full of please and I need it and I'll be good, I promise I'll be good, the kind of begging I'd have mocked in any porno ever made.

"I know you will," she said.

She didn't let me come.

She untied my wrists instead. Carefully, the leather sliding away, her thumbs pressing into the red lines it had left, rubbing until the feeling flooded back into my fingers. Then she turned me over and laid me back on the bed like I weighed less than her gym bag, which, to her, I basically did.

I stared up at her, wild-eyed. "Are you serious? You're stopping?"

"I didn't say I was stopping." She settled between my legs and pushed my thighs wide with her shoulders. "I said you weren't coming yet. Hands in your hair."

"What?"

"Your own hair. Hold on to it. Don't let go."

I slid both hands into my curls and fisted them there, and she rewarded me by lowering her mouth on me.

I screamed.

Actually screamed. Like a final girl in the last ten minutes of a slasher film. Her tongue was everywhere, flat and slow and then pointed and quick, learning me with total concentration, and every time I got close, she backed off and pressed a kiss to my inner thigh and waited until my breathing settled before she started again.

"I'm going to die," I sobbed. "This is how I die. Cause of death: Cam Russo's tongue. Put it on my headstone."

"You're not going to die."

"You don't know that!"

"Shh. Breathe." She slid her middle and ring fingers inside me while her tongue circled my clit. "You're so close. I can feel it. You want it so bad."

"Yes. Yes. Please."

"Then ask me properly."

"Please, Cam." Tears were sliding into my hairline now. My scalp was stinging from my own grip. "Please let me come. I'll be so good. Please, please, please."

She lifted her head and looked at me up the length of my body, her chin wet, her eyes black.

"Look at me when you come."

"Yes. Okay. Yes."

"Now."

She sealed her mouth over my clit and sucked hard and drove her fingers into me at the exact angle she'd spent the last half hour learning, and I came with my eyes locked on hers, sobbing her name. It went on and on. Waves of it, my back bowing off the bed, my thighs clamping around her head, my hands nearly ripping out my own hair. She didn't stop. She worked me through every second of it and kept going.

And kept going.

"Cam," I gasped. "Cam, too much, I can't..."