He cries out this time, practically crumpling as it comes own harder than it has--something in the way Liam moves his wrist; something to do with how he'd felt pleasure moments before. His cock aches but what's overwhelming is the sense of pain and how his voice seems to bounce off of the walls. He wants to grab at something, needs to stabilize himself but he can't, he can only moan in the strange pain-pleasure combination his brain is swimming in.

Mike hastily tries to move his ass back into position, breathing heavily, entire body feeling like it's on fire but his dick is slick with precome and sweat and he can barely breathe.

The number. "Twelve, sir--twelve," His voice has cracked, feeling unstable and woozy but unable to properly tell with the amount of adrenaline and endorphines running in his system. He bites down on his lip, hard, and is acutely aware of every single movement Liam is doing; every single bit of air stinging his raw ass.