The world narrowed to the exquisite pressure of his hands on my hips, a firm anchor as he pressed into me from behind, each deliberate inch a slow, stretching burn that made me gasp. My fingers curled into the sheets, the rough cotton a stark contrast to the slick heat building between my thighs, a desperate counterpoint to the deep, rhythmic possession. A low groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating through my back as he filled me completely, his pace a steady, claiming cadence that left no part of me untouched. I arched agat him, my head falling back, a silent plea for more as the friction ignited a firestorm along every nerve ending. The scent of our sweat, musky and primal, filled the air, a potent perfume of our joining that made my head spin. His mouth found the sensitive curve of my shoulder, teeth grazing the skin before his tongue soothed the spot, a dual sensation that pushed me closer to the edge. Every thrust was a perfect, maddening collision, stroking a hidden, aching place deep ide that clenched around him, begging for release. I could feel the tension coiling tight in my belly, a spring wound to its breaking point, my breath coming in ragged, shallow pants. And as his rhythm faltered, growing more urgent and possessive, the world shattered into a blinding, pulsing wave of pure, liquid pleasure that left me trembling and utterly claimed.
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