With an involuntary, panicked laugh, Emma clenched and jerked and squirted, a sudden jet of something splashing on the hardwood floor and James's boots. Her fingers clawed marks from the wall paint, and if not for the fact that he was still lifting much of her body weight, she would have collapsed. She'd never done that before. She hadn't thought she could do that. Yet here she was, gushing like a goddamn pump spigot, the last of it dripping out of her as her knees nearly gave out.

But she didn't come. That was unbelievable. He'd made her fucking ejaculate and she still. Hadn't. Come. That single bark of laughter...