The orgasm arrived without announcement, no buildup, no ceremony — the full, convulsive, total collapse of a body going over a cliff it had been standing at the edge of for forty minutes, her thighs locking, her back arching, her tied hands yanking at the sash with the desperate futility of arms that needed something to hold—
Mira reached up.
Her hand closing around Avriana's bound wrists — not releasing, not interfering — just holding. Warm. Steady. 'I'm here.'
Avriana shook.
"Hhn—!! Ngh—!! 'Hnn'—!!"
The rolling, entirely uncontrolled wave of it moving through her — hips grinding out the last of it, her walls clenching and milking him without her permission, her body going liquid then limp, her weight collapsing back against his chest with the boneless quality of someone who had run out of everything.
He was still hard.
'Still', she thought, through the haze. 'He is still—'
"My turn," he said.
To someone else.
He lifted her off him.
