His hand continued its deliberate, unrelenting descent, the broad heat of his palm sliding down the full length of her trembling body with ruthless patience.
"—Fuck… haaah—!"
Eira's body arched hard off the bed, a guttural, broken sound ripping from her throat—low, throaty, shamelessly needy. It echoed off the walls like the raw confession of a creature who had forgotten every law except surrender.
Each fingertip pressed firm and deliberate against her hypersensitive skin, dragging thick, heavy sensation through every nerve until her entire frame seized in a single, bone-deep convulsion as pleasure slammed into her like a heavy fist driving straight into her gut.
"Mmmhh—! Haaah… ahhn—!" The moan that ripped from her throat was low, melodic, and shamelessly vulgar—rich, throaty, far too loud and broken for such a small creature. It echoed through the bedroom like a profane prayer.
