Maddie's back arched violently off the counter—body bridging, tits thrust high into his mouth, offering everything. He took it all—hands sliding under her to grip and lift, supporting the arch while his mouth never stopped: bite, suck, lick, mark—leaving her chest a glistening, bruised, spit-soaked mess of red blooms and swollen nipples.
Only when her upper body was thoroughly ravaged—skin shining with his saliva, covered in dark, throbbing hickeys from throat to ribs, nipples abused and dark, chest heaving with desperate, broken sobs—did he pull back just enough to look.
Maddie was already wrecked—lips parted and slick, eyes glazed and teary, skin flushed crimson with his brands, body trembling violently.
And he wasn't even close to done.
His eyes dropped lower—to the skirt still clinging to her hips, to the way her thighs shook and pressed together, trying to ease the ache in her dripping cunt.
Phei smiled—dark, feral, starving.
