Medora
He slid into me slowly, the tip first, then deeper, inch by inch, until he was fully inside. The way he stared at me-lips parted, his eyes dark with desire-made my breath hitch. I felt a surge of need, so overwhelming it almost consumed me.
"f**k," I moaned, my fingers digging into his shoulders for balance as I began to move.
"Dora, slow down," he groaned, his voice strained, almost pleading.
But I didn't slow down. I couldn't. Instead, I quickened my pace, rolling my hips as I rode him, the heat coursing through my body driving me faster, harder. The tension between us was electric, and every movement sent sparks up my spine.
His hands moved to my waist, his fingers brushing over my skin in maddeningly light strokes before grabbing hold of my hips. "God," he muttered, his he
