EMILIA surrendered. That day, she found herself kneeling on Tyron's sofa while he positioned himself behind her, thrusting deeply into her.
She gripped the sofa tightly, her head pressed against it, biting her lower lip to stifle her moans, which had been escaping her for some time. Tyron, meanwhile, held her possessively by her hips, relentlessly moving inside her. He was thrusting hard and deep, groaning with pleasure, clearly eager.
“Damn, love! You’re so hot!” Tyron leaned down, his mouth near her ear. Emilia felt his tongue trace the curve of her ear, down her neck and shoulder, while his hands caressed and played with her breasts.
“Ohh!” she moaned, overwhelmed by the sensation.
Again, Emilia was losing herself in Tyron's pleasure.
She should have gone home. She should have been
