Evilangel
Eliza Ibarra, Jonni Darkko Pic(s)
The room was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, shadows dancing across her skin as she knelt before him, her movements a symphony of practiced grace. Her lips parted, welcoming him into the warmth of her mouth with a slow, deliberate surrender that made his breath catch. Each inch she took deeper was a whispered promise, her throat yielding to his length as her eyes fluttered shut in blissful concentration. He could feel the subtle vibrations of her soft moans echoing through him, a primal rhythm that coiled the tension in his core tighter and tighter. Her fingers traced gentle patterns on his thighs, anchoring them both in the rising tide of sensation that threatened to sweep them away. When the climax finally surged, it erupted in a hot, pearlescent cascade that painted her face in glistening streaks of pure ecstasy. She held his gaze through it all, her expression one of serene triumph as the evidence of his pleasure adorned her like liquid starlight. A slow, sensual smile curved her lips, tasting the salt of his release mingling with her own satisfaction. In that suspended moment, they were bound not just by flesh, but by the raw, beautiful truth of shared abandon.
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