Evilangel
Abigail Mac, Charles Dera Pic(s)
Her lips parted with a soft sigh, enveloping him in a warmth that sent shivers racing up his spine as her tongue traced a deliberate, swirling path along his sensitive length. Each movement was a masterful dance of pressure and release, her mouth creating a rhythm that was both tender and demanding, pulling a low groan from deep within his chest. The world narrowed to the slick, heated friction and the sight of her focused devotion, her eyes glinting with shared desire. When she guided him onto his back, the shift was seamless, her body a silken weight settling over his hips, aligning their forms in the dim light. He felt the tantalizing, wet heat of her core hovering just above him for a breathless moment before she descended, taking him ide with a slow, deliberate roll of her hips that stole the air from his lungs. A gasp escaped her as she began to move, a steady, building cadence that matched the frantic beating of their hearts, her inner muscles clenching around him in waves of exquisite pressure. Her back arched, a perfect curve as her fingers dug into his shoulders, her breath coming in ragged pants agat his neck, her scent of arousal and salt filling his senses. The tension coiled tight in his gut, a gathering storm of sensation that made every nerve ending scream with electric life, her name a broken prayer on his lips. With a final, deep thrust that seemed to touch her very soul, the dam broke, a raw, shuddering release crashing over them both in a blinding cascade of pure, unadulterated ecstasy that left them trembling and entwined.
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