The friction became a haze, a heat wave about to incinerate her from the inside out. Hartwell’s c**k grew even thicker in the confines of her p***y, the pulsation of his veins against the walls of her channel indicating that the end was near. But Quin prepared herself to feel the burning liquid filling up her p***y, marking the conclusion of the punishment. She held herself tightly to the wall behind her, nails scraping the surface, awaiting the inevitable hot shot of pleasure followed by the release of his c*m.
However, the pattern broke abruptly.
He stopped dead in his tracks, not pausing for one second but completely stopping, as if turned into a statue. The noise of their breathing ceased, the air suddenly getting thicker and harder to breathe. The next moment, he disengaged himself
