21Sextury
Kiara Lord, Kristof Cale Pic(s)
A new and profound pressure began to bloom at her most forbidden entrance, a silent question posed agat yielding flesh. His guiding hand, steady and warm on the small of her back, was both a comfort and an unyielding anchor as he slowly, inexorably, pressed forward. The initial resistance was a sharp, breath-catching moment of pure sensation, a tight ring of fire that made her whimper into the pillows. Then came the breathtaking stretch, an overwhelming fullness that seemed to reach into the very core of her being, a deep internal claiming that left no part of her untouched. Every slight movement, every minute adjustment, sent rippling waves of intense pleasure-pain coursing through her, blurring the lines between discomfort and dizzying arousal. She could feel the frantic beat of her own heart echoing in the intimate space where their bodies joined, a frantic rhythm agat his deliberate, measured advance. The air grew thick with their mingled gasps and the scent of their exertion, a primal perfume that filled her lungs with each ragged inhalation. As he began to move with greater purpose, a shocking, unexpected tide of pleasure began to crest, washing away the last vestiges of tension in a warm, liquid rush. She surrendered completely to the strange, consuming rhythm, her body arching to meet each deep, penetrating thrust, lost in a world defined solely by this singular, overwhelming connection.
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