Romans & histoires Orgasum Denial

His length was red, slick, and throbbing in the air. I smirked. “Lesson two,” I said, turning to the drawer again, “is that good boys don’t cum unless I say so.” I held up the small metal device—the plug for his length tip. His eyes snapped open. “What—what the hell is that?!” “A denial plug,” I said sweetly. “It’ll keep you from cumming. You’ll feel everything… but you won’t get to let go.” He shook his head, breathless. “Y-You’re insane.”

His thumb found my clit, roughly moving it in a circular motion, bringing me closer to the edge of my orgasm, I was this close… I struggled yet forced the words to leave my mouth. "I… Belong to no one." Savaş's gaze darkened as he quickened his pace and I only needed one more push to reach my release but suddenly… it all stopped, the emptiness in my core hit me like a thousand bricks. Did he just deny me an orgasm? I glared at him but he only shrugged, removing his hand from my panties and bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth, sucking my wetness off them, letting out a hum and damn if this didn't look hot.

“But I am about—I am about to come!” “I know.” He replied sounding so casual. So infuriating. Her chest heaved, her whole body tingling and shaking from the edge. “You don't get to cum…. Until I say do.… feisty lamb.” The name sounded so good to her ear but Jasmine had more goals like getting an organization than lusting over a crazy nickname from a psychopath master. She let in a swallow. The need to release was unbearable. She could feel the heat, it was still burning between her thighs, and her clit was still throbbing and pulsing in rhythm with a denied orgasm that refused to be faded.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She thought: this. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3" She thought: this is what acknowledgement looks like when it's done correctly. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> No announcement. No ceremony. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> A cup of bad camp tea handed across a desk. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She went back to work. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">

I will make another book squealed to HELLBENT DENIED LOVE and then change it's tittle. We need to vote here, who wants HELLBENT DENIED LOVE to have another book? I mean, New book: DANCING IN FLAMES~Squealed to HELLBENT DENIED LOVE.

He stops. He pulls away from me completely. A sob tears from my throat, raw and guttural. “No. . .” I writhe in protest, my hips rutting against empty air, chasing friction, chasing release, but there’s nothing. Just aching, soaking emptiness. My body convulses in aftershocks of denial, the orgasm still sitting on a razor’s edge, unsatisfied and furious. He lifts his head slowly. His mouth glistens with my pussy juice. His eyes, dark and blown wide with hunger, meet mine like a storm breaking open.

I cried out as I felt the walls of my pussy begin to tighten, and immediately he removed his face from my pussy, abruptly denying me my orgasm for the second time. “What the hell is this??” I cried out of frustration. “It’s called orgasm denial, baby, and you don’t get to question me. I am your master.” He said before blowing me a kiss and leaving the room. What the heck??

“I… I might have gotten the time wrong…” “Did you get the time wrong, or was this recording not made at that time at all?” Gavin jumped to his feet. “Objection! The defendant is making baseless speculations!” But that small point of doubt did little to calm the mob. The live-stream comments were still flying. “She could have been wrong about the time, but the recording is real!” “Harper’s just making excuses!” “This kind of legal trick is disgusting!” I glanced at the stock alert on my phone.

This time nothing was stopping this. I could feel it building, building so well inside me. It was bigger and deeper. The kind of orgasm that three edges and days of denial and complete emotional devastation built toward. The kind that didn't come from a single night of need but from weeks of everything that had been happening in this house, everything unresolved, everything denied. "Right there," I gasped so very loudly. The gasped escaped my throat exactly as they were created. "Oh fuck—right there, don't—"

All kinds of bizarre and toxic remarks imaginable were being thrown our way. Lillian called me and cursed me out. "Daniel Coleman, you shameless, disgusting bastard! Are you happy now that you've ruined me? Just you wait. I'm going to take you to court!" Suppressing my tumultuous emotions, I calmly explained, "I wasn't the one who uploaded those photos and videos. I don't even have them. That said, you should take a closer look at the people around you and stop blaming the innocent." I had done more than enough as her ex-husband by giving her those few words of advice. As for everything else, there was nothing I could do.