The pain from the fall and awful pull on his cock had lessened his body's interest somewhat to bring stimulated again, but the ring, up until it was removed, had ensured Eliot remained physically ready and the vibrating thing against his prostate revived any fading interest. He gritted his teeth, bit back a moan, and his whole body trembled within Sam's arms. It wasn't due to Eliot trying to fight though, at least not in the sense he would prefer, but from keeping himself still against thrusting into the demon's tantalizing grip.

This wasn't painful, the dildo, the hand, and now that the ring was gone, there was nothing physically painful about the whole ordeal. The slash on his back stung, but it was hardly felt, a drop in the ocean of pleasure that Sam was drowning him in. That was the worst part, the hardest to resist.

Eliot knew what Sam was telling him, that there was no fighting it, that there would be no reprieve even after he held out, but he couldn't justify it to himself to just surrender on this most important battle of his identity. So he held back as long as he could, breathing rapidly as heat pooled into his groin and rushing him towards the inevitable. His eyes fell closed and his hands continued to flex behind his back. Sam wasn't in danger of Eliot plotting retaliation though, the hitter was having difficulties keeping his control.

"Do what you want," he pushed out through gritted teeth. His body was shaking from the effort of his resistance and he was close. Whether he would be allowed to cum or not though, he was determined to not ask for it.