Addicted2Girls
Romi Rain, Abigail Mac Pic(s)
The final surge of anticipation crackled between them like static electricity, a palpable force that drew their bodies into an inevitable, magnetic collision. His hands, previously tentative explorers, now claimed the soft terrain of her hips with a possessive certainty that made her breath catch. Her own fingers tangled in the damp hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer until the scent of his skin—clean sweat and something uniquely male—filled her senses completely. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat as her mouth found the frantic pulse beating at the base of his own, her lips a soft, searing brand agat his flesh. The world outside their frantic embrace dissolved into a meaningless blur, all focus narrowing to the slick heat of skin agat skin and the frantic, syncopated rhythm of their hearts. Every nerve ending felt raw and exposed, singing with a pleasure so acute it bordered on pain as his movements ide her built to a relentless, driving tempo. She arched agat him, a silent plea and a surrender, her body tightening around his in a series of exquisite, involuntary spasms that shattered her last vestige of control. Wave after wave of release crashed over them, a shared, convulsive storm that left them trembling and breathless, limbs entangled in the heavy, satisfied silence. In the quiet aftermath, their slowing breaths mingled, a final, gentle fusion that completed the intricate reaction they had begun.
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