It was easy enough. Bringing Eliot to orgasm, after every inch of effort he'd put into it, was fluid, and simple. Sam drew every inch of it out of him, until he would be left aching, and he drew his chin up just a little bit so that he could watch Eliot spill over, see the expression on his face.

"And it was me that brought you to it," Sam murmured, very softly, bending up so that he could press his mouth against Eliot's ear. He had to straddle him to do it, keeping his weight off Eliot's back.

"Let me guess. You feel weak; every muscle in your body is aching, and more than anything you just want to close your eyes, let your pulse keep slowing the way it wants to and slip into sleep. But you can't, because I'm here, because who knows what I might do next, and what opportunity you might miss."

He drew his hand up, licked the tips of his fingers, and smiled quietly.

"I'm going to turn you inside out," he promised, before pulling out the dildo and throwing it lightly aside. A shift of his weight, his position, and he was guiding his own half hard cock into place instead. He hadn't recovered from his previous orgasm, really, but experience in Hell, with Lucifer, had given him a good sense of bouncing back, and try as he might for things to be different, he still got all turned on by the whips and chains, the torture, even if he wasn't the one personally being beaten and taken.

If anything, Eliot wouldn't be expecting it.