Lenette had her nails digging into the sheets with the relentless deep thrusts. If Lenette had to be honest, it hurt, the size was difficult for her to get used, if she could ever. But it also felt so, so good. She was a moaning mess but had no mind to care for how she looked; sex dazed with tears running a mess on her flushed cheeks.
On the contrary, Caesar looked as composed as he always did, the only thing that seemed out of place was the red tinting the base of his neck and the dishevelled hair he kept pushing back by running his hand through it. Normally it would have pissed her off how perfect the man seemed even in a situation like this, but then he would drive himself deeper inside her and she would forget what she was supposed to be mad about.
