Sienna

His first thrust was slow, a deliberate, stretching invasion that stole the air from my lungs. A low moan was torn from me, muffled by the bedding. He held himself there, deep, letting me feel every inch of him. “You’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice strained. “So fucking perfect for me.”

Then he began to move. A slow, torturous rhythm that built with every snap of his hips. His hand left my back and snaked around my hip, his fingers finding my clit with unerring accuracy. ...