Her words are probably enough for both of them as she pleads and praises in turns, the aching responses of her body taxed but apparently still able to find more. They were so deep inside her, as if Gabriel would pound through her and into the table or further.

Nailed. The word suddenly crystallized in her mind, and that exactly how she felt. She was being nailed into the table, the movements rubbing the nipple clamps against her chest despite her attempts to stay above and balanced. Every movement drove sounds from her, made it hard to think about anything but how perfectly used she was, and how good it felt.

She needed this, needed it all, and couldn't believe she could want even more. "Please," she whimpered. "Pleasepleaseplease."

What she was begging for, even she didn't know.