Ross' hips kept a steady, punishing rhythm, each thrust drawing out new heights of pleasure.
Her cries echoed across the room, mingling with the wet, obscene sounds of their coupling.
Sarah's hands clawed at his back, her nails digging into his skin, desperate for more contact, more connection, more sensation.
She was drowning in him, completely overtaken, utterly dependent on every movement, every kiss, every bite.
Her body trembled uncontrollably, her vision blurred as waves of orgasm followed one another without pause, leaving her gasping, panting, and soaked with her own and his essence.
Ross's mastery over her body was absolute, every calculated motion designed to make her lose herself entirely in the pleasure only he could provide.
By the time he finally slowed, both of them were drenched, sticky, and breathing heavily, their bodies glistening with sweat and their juices mingled in a warm, intimate mess.
