Every muscle in my body coils, each last inch of me knotting as a coarse, broken scream rips itself from deep inside my chest. My abs tighten and push down on autopilot, pinning down my torso with a vise grip, too taut and rigid to feel like anything of a human origin.
My pussy spasms uncontrollably, the Kegel shooting out with a vulgar pop to dangle against the base of my womanhood. Its weight pulls on my nipples as it continues to hang from them, jerking haphazardly between my slick legs.
My grip slackens on one of the swing’s straps as I jerk forward from the force of the expulsion. Before inertia can send me tumbling, I’m yanked back in the same instant. Frost’s firm hand captures my arm, keeping me tightly bound against his chest.
My head springs back, my spine curving with the force of my elimination. And then, like a seesaw, it falls forward to view the mess below me.
The mess I made.