James’s POV
Dave never stopped.
Not for a second.
His hips kept snapping up into her, hard, wet, meaty slaps that echoed off the cracked plaster walls.
The blonde’s mouth was finally free of my c**k and she used every inch of it: screaming, moaning, begging, babbling s**t that didn’t even make sense anymore.
“Fuuuck! Yes! Harder! Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f**k, I can’t—”
Her voice cracked on every word, hoarse from screaming down my throat for the last hour.
Her back bowed off Dave’s sweaty chest like she was trying to fold herself in half, t**s thrust toward the ceiling, n*****s so hard they looked bruised.
One hand clawed at the sheets, the other flew between her legs, fingers rubbing her c**t in rough, sloppy circles, the wet little clicks mixing with the pounding.
