ika

[original under the cut!]

the pillow muffles your whimpers, but he wants to hear you, so he pulls your hair towards himself, turning your face in his direction. he chuckles dryly at the fucked out expression you’re wearing.

“c’mon baby, tell me how good it feels,” but you lost your ability to form coherent thoughts, much less any sentences after your third orgasm.

warbled cries leave your lips, trying to tell him that he is making you feel good, but your mouth seems to have given up the moment you opened it—that won’t do.

in a quick sucession, he pulls you up by your hair flush against his chest, just to wrap his arm around your neck and push you down against the bed once again. the headlock he’s gotten you in, the impossible closeness of your bodies, the sounds of his rough grunts right against your ear, it amplifies all sensations beyond words.

you’re weakly hitting his bicep to signal your approaching orgasm but he doesn’t care, too focused on hitting your sweet spots inside. “y’wanna come again? yeah?” you nod as much as you could, with his arm restricting most of your head movement. he laughs, slowing his thrusts, feeling his cock reaching shallower and shallower spots.

sniffling, you whine, “wh-why…?” your hips begin to grind against his, attempting to stimulate your clit, until he pins your body down, fully immobilized.

“you ignored me. now you’re reaping the consequences of your actions. y’gotta hold it, until i tell you to cum, and i better hear a ‘yes sir.’”