In the bedroom, he held you a prisoner under him. Veiny hands locking your thighs into place as he showed you his tongue technology until you were a crying, writhing mess below him.
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the tagged picture is what comes into your view as he finally sits up and connects his lips to yours, in a sloppy rushed kiss. Through quivering lips you ask him to stop. "Oh but I'm not done yet. Wouldn't be fair if I don't repay you for your unfriendly attitude in the party earlier, would it? " He rasps. He shots up a glare before returning back to his previous activity until you were–quite literally—begging for his painfully pleasurable punishment to stop.
