FORTY-FOUR: CLARIFY

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Media: Dive - Ed Sheeran 

Coe's POV

His hands roamed my body like it was his to play with. I was, his. He knows my sweet spots, he knows my weaknesses. He plays them like a well trained professional. I respond, unable to even contemplate the idea of suppressing myself.

Another's lips were on mine, sucking the life out of me, yet resuscitating me at the same time. I latch on, afraid that if I didn't, I would come undone.

'Please.' I beg, always. 

Against my lip, I felt his teeth nibbling. Hard enough to pull a gasp out of me, gentle enough for that pinch of pain to make me shake. I reach my hands out to touch him, only to meet resistance. 

I forgot. I was restrained. 

'Please.' I begged again. 

They were always like that. They never listened to what I wanted. They always did as they pleased. I always protest, but their actions always pleased me in the end. I forget why I protest, why I even bother to. But I do, always, because it gave me a sense of power. 

Please. The word 'please', I have never known it's power until them

I gave my surrender again and again- people may think me weak. But it's only because they don't know. The power I hold in my pleas, in my tears. These weaknesses, are for them and only them. No one else will see me like this. 

Unraveled. Ravished.  

A sudden surge of pleasure slammed into my core, reaching my chest and tearing a moan out of me. Spots of blurry lights lined my darkened vision and I slammed my head into the mattress as I bucked. My entire being shook as the pleasure started building, every second more intense than the last.

 I whispered my cries. But he didn't heed them. It only encouraged him, both of them. 

Heath's thrusts slammed harder, firmer, faster. His grunts light up the heat from within me, and I arched my back to relieve the warmth gathering between my skin and the sheets.

A mistake. 

I screamed, jerking hard against my restrains as a perfectly timed and impeccably executed thrust aimed true at my sweet spot because of my movements. 

Tears dampened the handkerchief on my eyes, I felt them. The slight coolness against the edge of my cheekbones, right under my eyes. The odd coolness that I couldn't spare another thought about. 

Jared's lips spread against mine as he detached from me. I groaned, begging him to come back.

"Let's see if we can make you cum with just your ass." His words made me shake harder, and Heath's grip on my hips tightened firmly, sending my ass towards his body, slamming hard into me like he was a man on a mission.

"Jer..." I whispered. A whisper was all I could muster. I was so worn out. 

I had forgotten how many times I've orgasmed over the night. I was empty from the second or third time on. Empty and sensitive. But that didn't stop them. 

They didn't need my seeds. Just my tears, my pleas, my screams, my cries, my shaking, my begging, my orgasm. They didn't need physical, tangible evidence that I had reached my peak again and again. They know it by heart. They know me by heart. They were satisfied only with the slow and sensual destruction of my being. They delighted in it. 

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