Their bodies found a rhythm, instinctive and wild, as if the world had shrunk down to the space between them.
Time lost all meaning.
Again and again, they came together, never fully separating, tangled in limbs and sheets, sweat and moans.
The bed rocked beneath them, the room filled with the sound of their passion—skin slapping, muffled gasps, the creak of the mattress, and the wet, intoxicating sound of their bodies meeting over and over again.
Sasha's moans grew louder with each round.
"Ahhhh…"
"Ohhhh…"
"Ughhhh…"
Her cries echoed off the walls, raw and melodic, mixing with Ross's deep, ragged groans.
Sometimes she screamed his name. Sometimes she could only whimper as another orgasm tore through her, her body sensitive and overstimulated but never wanting to stop.
He flipped her over, took her from behind, made her ride him, held her tight as she came against his chest.
There was no rush, no hesitation—only hunger, only heat.
