The night she left — the night I left — was the night the bond truly died.
I kept Justin on his knees as the morning light grew harsher, the neutral sensitizer still pulsing through his veins. His body trembled violently with the effort of holding the position. Sweat rolled down his golden skin in slow rivulets. His c**k hung heavy and flushed between his spread thighs, leaking steadily, every drop amplified into torment by the drug. He endured in perfect, silent submission.
I straddled his lap once more, sinking down onto his throbbing length in one slow, claiming glide until he filled me completely. I stayed buried deep, clenching around him in rhythmic pulses while the memories of that final night rose like blood in water.
“That night,” I whispered against his ear, beginning to ride
