Evilangel
Angela White, Markus Dupree Pic(s)
The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, casting dancing shadows across her bare skin as she arched her back agat the silk sheets. A single bead of sweat traced a slow path down the curve of her spine, disappearing into the cleft where her most intimate secrets were kept. His fingers explored that forbidden territory with a reverence that made her gasp, each gentle press sending shivers of anticipation through her entire being. When he finally entered that tight, resisting channel, it was with a slow, deliberate pressure that stretched her in the most exquisite way, filling her completely. The sensation built into a crescendo of pleasure so intense it seemed to ripple outward from her very core, and soon a warm, liquid release gushed from her, soaking the sheets beneath her trembling thighs. Her cries echoed in the quiet space, raw and unfiltered, as waves of ecstasy continued to crash over her spent body. He withdrew slowly, his own need evident, and brought himself to a shuddering climax that painted her flushed skin with streaks of pearlescent warmth. She lay there, breathless and glistening, every nerve ending still singing from the symphony of sensations she had just experienced. The air itself seemed thick with the scent of their union, a heady perfume of salt, sex, and spent passion.
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