We lay there for a moment, our bodies slick with sweat and cum, the double-ended dildo still lodged deep in both of us, its faint pulses ebbing like a dying heartbeat. Herick's chest heaved beneath me, his cock softening against my thigh, spent but twitching from the overstimulation. No matter how many times I fuck him, I can't get enough.
I traced a finger along the welts on his chest, admiring my handiwork—the red lines blooming like badges of his devotion. But I wasn't finished.
Not by a long shot. The fire in my veins demanded more: harder, deeper, until we were both broken and remade in ecstasy.
I pulled back slowly, the dildo sliding out of my pussy with a wet pop, strings of my arousal clinging to its ridges. Herick groaned as the other end vacated his ass, his hole clenching on emptiness, pink and stretched. "Your Majesty," he murmured, voice hoarse, eyes fluttering open to meet mine. "Have I pleased you?"
