He was the one taking pleasure, yet I was also affected. I did not feel a thing physically, yet somehow, it felt like I was feeling everything at once.
Revandrel gritted his teeth hard, as if fighting himself and trying not to move. But his hips made short, jerky, involuntary strokes that drew strings of curses from him.
Even now, deeply buried inside me, the ridiculous male was still glaring down at me.
His pacing increased, he moved hard and punishing, so much that the bed creaked badly under us.
He was still fully clothed, but I could see the way his muscles corded and flexed with each movement, raw power rippling beneath tailored fabric as he chased his release.
I had never seen anyone f**k like that before, with such stamina, such ferocity, and savagery. And still, not a single
