The room was a glorious around us, a cathedral of shattered porcelain, toppled trophies, and moonlight-drenched chaos, the air heavy with the intoxicating blend of jasmine, sweat, and the lingering musk of her release.
The carpet beneath us was a soaked, darkened testament to her pleasure, the white fibers clinging to our skin like a lover's desperate embrace.
Lila's body still trembled faintly against mine, her thighs quivering from the aftershocks, her pussy pulsing softly where my fingers had unraveled her, the ruined lace thong shoved aside and forgotten.
Her moans had melted into breathless, reverent whimpers, each one a fragile echo of the screams that had torn through the room like a storm.
