She establishes a rhythm—rolling her hips in slow, deliberate strokes that coat my cock in her arousal. Each pass of her pussy along my length makes pleasure spike through me, makes my hands tighten on her hips hard enough to leave marks.
I watch her face. Watch the way her eyes flutter shut, the small furrow between her brows as she concentrates on the sensation. The way her lips part on silent gasps.
Absolutely fucking stunning.
My hips rock up to meet her movements, grinding my cock against her clit on each pass. The added friction makes her cry out, head falling back as the pleasure clearly intensifies.
"You're soaking me." The words come out rough. Wrecked. "Feel how wet you are? How much you want this?"
"Yes." The whisper is barely audible. "Gods, yes."
She grinds down harder, pace increasing as she chases the sensation. Her breasts bounce with each movement and I can't resist—one hand releases her hip to palm the soft weight, thumb brushing across her nipple.
The responding whimper makes my cock throb.
I'm ready to fucking beg. Ready to flip her over and drive into her tight heat until we both forget everything except this. But watching her take control, seeing her discover what feels good, is too perfect to interrupt.
Even if it's killing me.
"Lorenth." My name is breathless. Desperate. "I need?—"
"What do you need?" I roll her nipple between thumb and forefinger, watching her shudder. "Tell me."
"You." She shifts her hips, angling until the head of my cock catches at her entrance. "Inside. Please."
Gods.
"Take it then." My hands return to her hips but I don't guide her. Don't control. Just hold on and watch. "Show me how badly you want my cock."
She sinks down slowly.
The tight, wet heat of her pussy engulfs me inch by perfect inch. My entire body goes rigid with the effort of staying still, of letting her set the pace instead of just thrusting up into that exquisite grip.
Senna's eyes are closed, face scrunched in concentration as she works herself down my length. Taking me deeper with each small movement until finally—finally—she's seated completely. Her thighs bracket my hips, ass resting against my upper thighs, my cock buried to the hilt inside her.
Perfect.
She sits there for a moment, adjusting to the fullness. I can feel her pussy fluttering around me, small internal spasms that make pleasure spark up my spine.
"Okay?" My voice is barely human.
Her eyes open, meeting mine. "More than okay."
Then she lifts up and sinks back down.
The moan that tears from my throat is animalistic. Pure sound with no thought behind it exceptyesandmoreandfuck.
She does it again. Lifts until just the head of my cock remains inside then sinks back down in one smooth glide. Her hands brace on my chest, nails scoring skin as she establishes a rhythm.
Slow at first. Testing. Learning what angles feel good, what depth makes her gasp.
I watch every expression that crosses her face. Every flutter of her lashes, every part of her lips, every small furrow of concentration. She's gorgeous like this—flushed and focused and completely lost in sensation.
"That's it." My hands guide her movements without controlling them, just helping her find the rhythm. "Fuck yourself on my cock. Take what you need."
She whimpers, pace increasing. The wet sounds of our bodies joining fill the room, punctuated by harsh breathing and broken moans.
"You feel perfect." The words tumble out, praise I can't hold back. "So wet. So tight. Like you were made for me."
