Lois' pussy juices were practically running down his body, and the thought of him feeling every drop made her cheeks burn a deep crimson.
She tried to squirm, to pull away even slightly, but her body betrayed her, arching toward him involuntarily, craving the heat and the touch that made her feel both humiliated and achingly alive.
Her mind raced, a storm of conflicting emotions—fear, shame, desire, and something else she didn't dare name.
Each gentle squeeze, each slow caress, made her gasp and moan despite herself.
She was acutely aware of every movement, every friction, every heartbeat, and yet she felt powerless to stop it.
Ross had become the axis around which her world spun, and she realized, with a mixture of dread and fascination, that surrendering to him was no longer a choice but an inevitability.
Their kiss finally broke, leaving Lois breathless and dazed, her lips swollen and slick from Ross's relentless hunger.
