The room is almost unbearably warm. Everything smells like hot wax and s*x. My breasts bounce with every move of his hips. His muscular thighs bunch and flex around mine. Candlelight dances over the walls, and I’m slowly going mad with passion.
Subtly, I arch against his chest, tilting my hips, giving him a better angle to slide inside. He’s so big, stretching me open. It feels like paradise. I love the way he claims me. The way he owns me. The way he takes control.
Cheeks flaming, my eyes squeezed shut, I say, “Yes, I want you to do it again. But not too hard, okay?”
I feel the tremor that passes through him. His fingers dip lower between my legs, to where our bodies meet, and he exhales a rough burst of air. “How about like this?”
He raises his hips again, lifting me from the water,
