Breathplay

He's straddling my waist, binds my wrists together. I bare my teeth, growl, as he lifts my arms over my head, ties me to the bed's headboard. I buck as he moves down the length of my body, lash out with my feet. He catches one ankle and then the other, expertly securing them to the bedframe, and I can only writhe angrily. There's a slight smirk on his face, gods I hate it, and he waits until I'm just a panting exhausted mess.

My breasts heave as he climbs back onto the bed, my eyes flash as he grasps a hip.

"Beast!"

He chuckles before taking a deep breath.

"You're enjoying this though."

I realize he's right, the scent of my arousal sitting heavy on my flesh. He hunches over, teeth find a hard nipple, and I involuntarily arch my back. My hiss of pain/pleasure escapes pursed lips, his eyes flick up towards mine, and he straightens.

He smoothly rolls his hips, my eyes widen as he sinks into my depths. His pace is agonizingly slow, I feel every thrust and withdrawal scraping on my inner walls, and growl in frustration. The smirk is back, a hand moves to close loosely around my throat, and I strain at my bonds, rocking to try and match his rhythm.

The hand around my throat tightens, I buck to try and dislodge him. I'm excited as much by the breathplay, the danger, as I am the sex, the fire below my stomach becoming overwhelming. When I climax only a squeak passes between my lips, only my inner muscles move. He's shifted, forearm instead of hand choking me, and groans as he feels his cock being massaged.

There's a second of reprieve as he moves again, now both hands are strangling me. His hips jerk as he thrusts so deep, I'm so full, and my eyes roll wildly, heart pounding in my ears as my life slips away.

The bastard leaves me bound to the bed, he must tell the party downstairs about me. It's only in the light of the morning that they notice I'm dead, that beneath thick globs of cum my neck is bruised. I don't think they care though, at least not until the novelty wears off and I'm discarded.