Our breaths are ragged. The feral look on his face as his climax builds would be enough to send me over the edge again all on its own. He’s so often behind me that I don’t get to see it enough. And the drag, drag, drag of each punishing inch of him against my inner walls is like nothing else on earth. The way he stroked my clit was one thing, but this pleasure is deeper, more primal. I feel it in my womb.

Until I met Brendan, I thought penetrative orgasms for women were mythical creatures, but the heat that builds and builds with each powerful upward thrust from him tells another story.

‘You’re so fucking gorgeous like this,’ he rasps. It’s more of a snarl, in fact. ‘God, I love seeing you lose control, baby. This is the best sight ever.’

‘Same here,’ I pant.

He releases my hips and holds his hands up. I interlace my fingers with his and continue to move. He grips my hands tightly and it gives me the stability I need to meet his thrusts, to push down harder, to yield to the growing ache inside me. I let my eyelids flutter closed.

‘Look at me,’ he orders, and I open them. ‘If I’m giving this to you, I get to see it break you. Understand?’

‘Yeah,’ I say. I’m trembling with effort and desire, seconds away from detonating. I fix my gaze on his gorgeous mouth and dilated pupils even as my face contorts with the tsunami of pleasure that’s now on the cusp of overtaking me.

‘That’s it,’ he croons as I grind down on him as hard as I can, shamelessly seeking out every drop of friction as I ride this endless, beautiful wave. ‘Fucking milk me. Jesus fuck.’

I do. I milk him. I ride his dick in a way that will ruin me for every man and every vibrator in my future, because nothing and nobody hits the spot like Brendan Sullivan in all his glory. He pumps up into me as hard as he can while keeping hold of my hands, his abs flexing in a way that should be illegal and every other muscle group in his body conspiring to give me as good a time as they possibly can.

The pleasure is blinding. His face blurs as I come so hard that my peripheral vision goes black. I grip his hands like a cowgirl trying to stay on a bucking bronco and I ride it out as he swells inside me, his astonishing body going rigid before he pumps and pumps and pumps through his own orgasm in a desperate volley. His grunts and my cries intermingle, and the whole experience is so raw and dirty and intense that I feel as though I’ve been vaulted through the air, weightless and insubstantial and free.