The next evening Marcus showed up shaking before he even knocked. He’d spent the whole day hard, leaking in his pants every time he remembered last night. His arse still sore. Throat raw. Hole tender but already aching to be filled again. He stripped in the hallway like always. Walked in naked. Dropped to his knees in the living room without being told.
Ava made him wait longer tonight.
Twenty minutes. On his knees. Hands behind his head. c**k throbbing untouched. Pre-c*m dripping in slow, steady strings onto the hardwood.
When she finally walked out, the sight hit him like a punch.
She wore full black latex now—catsuit zipped to her navel, shiny, tight enough to show every muscle. Harness over it with the biggest toy yet: jet-black, 10-inch monster, ridged and flared at the base, ball
