When the second orgasm hit, she didn't scream. She shattered in silence, her mouth open in a silent cry, her body arching taut as a bowstring before collapsing back against the leather. Tears streamed freely down her temples, pooling in the hollows of her ears.
Carter pressed one final kiss to her swollen flesh before rising. His thumb brushed the tears from her cheek as he loomed over her, his expression unreadable in the flickering amber light.
"More?" he asked quietly.
A broken laugh escaped her lips. "I don't think I can take any more."
"That's not what I asked."
She met his eyes, dark, hungry, patient, and felt her body clench in response despite the exhaustion weighing down her limbs.
Her voice was barely a whisper, but she knew he heard it. Knew he'd give her exactly what she asked for.
"More."
Carter straightened slowly, his hands sliding from her thighs as he rose to his full height.
The amber light caught the sheen on his chest, the taut planes of muscle still glistening from exertion.
His trousers hung low on his hips, the belt loose, the fabric barely clinging to his frame. He studied her, sprawled and trembling, wrists still secured above her head, the spreader bar forcing her legs wide, and something flickered behind his eyes. Not satisfaction. Hunger.
Marguax's breath came in shallow pulls. Her body ached, bone-deep and electric, every nerve ending raw and singing.
She could feel herself still clenching around nothing, the emptiness almost unbearable after the devastating attention of his mouth. The leather beneath her stuck to her sweat-slicked back.
"The mirror," she said, her voice cracking on the words.
Carter's brow lifted a fraction. He glanced toward the far wall where a tall, ornate mirror stood in the corner, its surface catching the amber glow and throwing it back in soft, fractured light.
"Take me from behind," Marguax continued, her cheeks burning hotter even as the words left her lips. "I want to watch."
A muscle in Carter's jaw tightened. He said nothing for a long moment, just looked at her with that measured, assessing gaze that made her stomach flip. Then he moved.
His hands found the cuffs first, releasing the clasps with practiced efficiency. Marguax's arms fell forward, the sudden freedom sending pins and needles racing through her shoulders.
She winced, flexing her fingers as sensation returned in tingling waves. Carter rubbed her wrists, his thumbs pressing into the tender skin where the leather had left faint red marks.
"Can you turn over?" he asked, his voice low.
She nodded, though her limbs felt like water. The spreader bar complicated things, her ankles remained fixed apart, forcing her into an awkward shuffle as she pushed herself onto her stomach.
The leather chaise was wide enough, barely, and she found purchase on her knees, her ass lifted and exposed. The position made her feel even more vulnerable, if that were possible.
Her face pressed against the cool leather, her twisted skirt bunching beneath her hips.
"Hands and knees," Carter commanded.
She obeyed, pushing herself up on shaking arms. The movement made her realize how utterly spent she was, and how desperately she still wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted to see herself taken apart in the mirror and witness the moment she shattered completely.
Carter positioned himself behind her. She heard the rustle of fabric as he pushed his trousers further down, then the heat of him against her, hard and thick, sliding between her thighs, not entering yet. Just feeling. Teasing.
"Look," he said.
Marguax raised her head. The mirror reflected them both in the amber half-light, her disheveled and exposed, her blouse hanging open, her pink skirt bunched around her waist.
Her hair was a tangled mess. Her mascara had smeared beneath her eyes. She looked ruined.
And behind her, Carter. Dark and imposing, his hands gripping her hips, his face a mask of controlled intensity. Their eyes met in the glass.
He pushed forward. The stretch was immediate and overwhelming, his size forcing her open, her body still swollen and sensitive from before.
She cried out, her fingers clenching against the leather, her back arching as he filled her completely. The angle was different this way, deeper, hitting something inside her that made her vision blur.
"Don't close your eyes," Carter said, his voice strained. "Watch."
She forced her gaze back to the mirror. Watched herself, her mouth open, her breasts swaying with each thrust, her skin flushed from chest to cheek.
Watched him behind her, his jaw tight, his hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm. The visual with the sensation, pleasure building on pleasure, intensity compounding.
"Oh god—" The words tore from her throat.
"Tell me what you see." Carter's hand came up, tangling in her hair, pulling her head back. The angle shifted, and she whimpered at the new depth.
"I see—" She swallowed hard, her eyes locked on their reflection. "I see you fucking me."
"What else?"
"I see—" Her voice broke. "I see how much I want it."
His grip tightened. "Who do you belong to right now?"
"You." The word fell out without thought. "You. Only you."
He groaned, a low, rough sound, and his pace quickened. The wet sounds of their bodies meeting filled the room, obscene and rhythmic, punctuated by her gasps and his harsh breathing.
Marguax couldn't look away from the mirror, couldn't tear her gaze from the sight of herself being claimed so thoroughly. Every thrust drove a sound from her lips, every impact sent ripples through her body.
"Touch yourself," Carter ordered.
Her hand shook as she reached beneath herself, fingers finding her clit. She was slick, drenched, and the contact made her whole body jerk. She rubbed in tight circles, matching his rhythm, the dual stimulation building something enormous and terrifying inside her.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. "Taking everything I give you. Begging for more."
"Yes—" The word came out half-sob. "Please—don't stop—"
"Wasn't planning on it."
His hand released her hair and slid down her spine, pressing between her shoulder blades, forcing her chest lower.
The new angle drove him even deeper, and she screamed, a raw, unfiltered sound that echoed off the dark walls. Her eyes stayed fixed on the mirror, watching her own face contort with pleasure, watching his expression shift from controlled to fierce.
The pressure built like a wave, higher and higher, threatening to crash. Marguax's thighs trembled violently against the spreader bar. Her arms shook. Her breath came in sharp, desperate pants.
"Carter—" His name was a plea, a prayer, a warning.
"Come for me." His voice cracked on the words. "Let me see you."
Her orgasm hit like a detonation. Her vision whited at the edges, her body seizing around him, clenching and spasming as pleasure tore through her in violent waves.
She heard herself screaming, his name, curses, sounds that weren't words at all, and still she watched. Watched her reflection shatter. Watched his face as he felt her come undone around him.
Three more brutal thrusts, and Carter followed her over the edge. His rhythm stuttered, broke, and he buried himself deep with a guttural groan that seemed dragged from somewhere primal.
She felt him pulsing inside her, the heat of his release flooding her, and the sensation triggered another smaller peak that made her whimper.
They stayed frozen like that for several heartbeats, her trembling on hands and knees, him curved over her back, both of them gasping. The mirror reflected their tangled forms, the evidence of their encounter written across their bodies.
Carter's forehead pressed between her shoulder blades. His breath was hot and ragged against her skin.
Finally, he pulled back, withdrawing slowly. The loss made her whimper again, oversensitive and aching. He released the spreader bar next, freeing her ankles, and she collapsed onto her side, her legs finally able to close.
The leather was cool against her burning skin. She could feel his release slipping down her thighs, could feel the bruises already forming on her hips.
Carter sat back on his heels, his chest heaving. His eyes found hers in the mirror one last time.
"More?" he asked, the word rough and quiet.
Marguax laughed, a broken, exhausted sound. She didn't have an answer.
"I'm done."