I splutter. Why in the hell couldn't he have just taped my wrists together behind my back again? Did he have to tape me to the sink? "This position is utterly humiliating," I complain. I'm bent over at the waist, facing the mirror like a child with her nose in the corner.
As if he just noticed how sexual the pose, he's suddenly right up against me, the heat of his lean body pressing against my back. The bulge of his cock brushes my posterior and I'm reminded of his erection after he'd shifted.
Is that normal? Or was that just for me? A blush creeps up my neck as I realize how much I want to think he's into me.
He leans forward and places his hands on the countertop outside of mine, caging me between his arms. His lips brush my ear. "I don't know. I think it's kinda hot."
Oh God. He's totally into me. Heat floods my core, tingles race along my skin.
One of his hands grips my hip as he backs off.
I lift my eyes to the mirror and my breath stalls when he lifts his other hand and brings it smartly down on my ass.
"Ow!" I protest.
"That was for shooting me." His voice is deeper than usual. He smacks my other cheek, just as hard. "And that's for running back to Data-X."
A whimper bursts out of my mouth, but not because of the pain. More because both of my knees went weak and I'm not sure how I'm going to stand.
He rubs his palm over my stinging flesh and I find myself pushing back into his hand, rolling my hips up and back.
His breath grows quicker and his hand strokes lower, down the back of my thigh and under my skirt.
I never feel sexy-ever. But in this moment, listening to the rasp of Sam's breath, seeing the lust glazing his eyes, I feel like a pinup girl. Or the star of a porn video.
Hot scientist punished and fucked hard by angry test subject.
Oh God, I should not have thought that.
"Layne." He utters my name like a lament. Like an apology.
I wonder what he's sorry for-what he's going to do? Or what he's holding back from doing? Because I can see the struggle in him. Guilt and repression rippling beneath the surface, as his hand strokes higher, higher. His fingers brush my nether lips, sending a shock of pleasure through my body.
"Tell me to stop, Layne," he rasps.
What's wrong with me? I don't want to. I meet his eyes in the mirror and shake my head.
His lids widen in shock, fingers shove under the gusset of my panties.
I jerk at the firm contact, the rub of his digits along my slit. I've never been so wet.
"You don't want this." It's like he's pleading with me to stop him.
I hold his gaze in the mirror and lift one knee up on the counter next to my hands.
The sound that comes from Sam is pure animal. He pulls his fingers out of my panties and slaps my pussy.
My mouth forms a round O of surprise. I didn't even know that was a thing.
"What are you doing, Layne?" Sam continues in a rough voice, even as he hikes the skirt of my dress up and tears my panties down. "You don't want this. Not with me." He smacks my butt again, hard.
Before I can answer, he's on his knees at my feet, shoving my leg back up onto the counter after freeing my panties from my ankles. He licks into me.
I gasp at the jolt of pure pleasure.
Okay, I didn't even know this position existed. Cunnilingus from behind? He presses my hips firmly against the counter as he destroys me with firm licks of his tongue.
I don't recognize the sounds coming from my mouth-guttural and needy.
Another slap. Somehow my leg on the counter ends up on his shoulder, my ballet flat kicking in the air.
Sam's tongue twirls around and flicks my clit, over and over again.
I moan, jack my hips up and down, humping his face. "Please," I plead.
Sam's mouth comes away from my pussy with a smack and he stands up. He replaces his mouth with his fingers, pushing inside me, filling me.
I moan. "Please."
He pumps his fingers in and out of me, knocking his knuckles against my entrance, penetrating deep.
He hits my G-spot and I lose control. My only standing leg scoots out from underneath me, but it doesn't matter, Sam holds me in place with one hand on my ass for his continued finger-fucking. Smack-smack-smack, he gives it to me as my orgasm crests hard.
My muscles clench around his fingers, pussy gushes. "Sam!" I gasp. "Sam!"
"That's right, sweetheart." His voice is so deep and raspy I hardly recognize it. "Say my name when you come. I'll be jacking off to that for the rest of my life."
My brain power is seriously hindered by my orgasm, but I file his words away to examine later. There's something off about them, but I can't pinpoint it now.
When my climax passes, he removes his fingers and stands, still holding me up. His expression is pure agony. I want to offer to reciprocate, but he turns away from me, stripping off his jeans and stepping into the shower.
Still stuck to the counter with tape, all I can do is watch the shadow of his figure in the mirror as he faces the spray and lets the water cascade over his head.
His erection is huge. Through the shower curtain I see it standing stiff and straight in front of him as he rests one palm against the shower wall and sags into the water.