Lor picked up the pace, his thrusts deeper now, the sound of their bodies meeting filling the room—a soft, wet rhythm that mingled with their gasps and moans.
He angled his hips, finding the spot inside her that made her cry out, a sharp, needy sound that sent a jolt through him.
He pressed into it again, and again, watching her face as her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting wider.
The gentleness began to fray, giving way to something hotter, more urgent.
Lor's thrusts grew harder, his grip on her hips tightening, fingers sinking into her soft flesh.
Nellie's legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, her nails pressing into his back through his shirt.
"Don't stop," she gasped, the plea raw and desperate, her voice cracking with need.
He didn't.
His rhythm turned relentless, each thrust driving deeper, the slick heat of her clinging to him, spurring him on.
The slap of skin grew sharper, the friction tighter, her body trembling beneath him with every stroke.
