The shift in his hips was subtle at first, a heavy, deliberate grinding that gradually gathered heat and speed, demanding everything she had to give. Every deep, rhythmic thrust sent an intoxicating shockwave straight to Evangeline's core, utterly dissolving the remaining fragile walls of her hesitation. There was no room left for fear, no space for thought—only the dizzying, brilliant pull of pure sensation.
Her back arched gracefully off the mattress, her knuckles turning white as her fingers twisted frantically into the damp sheets. A broken, helpless moan tore from her throat, lost in the heavy air of the chamber. The world had narrowed down to the sound of their shallow, ragged breathing, the rustle of twisted linen, and the wet, relentless friction of their slick bodies meeting in the shadows.
