8 - Are you Sore?
Cillian
“Yes, Cillian—ah!”
Emma moaned, her voice soft and sultry, full of pleasure when I dragged my d**k out to slam inside her perfect p***y. I had to clench my teeth and hold on to her pretty body to keep myself from coming. She was f*****g perfect. Her breasts jiggling with each thrust, her warm curvy body perfect against mine and her pouty pink lips parted in a soundless gasp.
I kissed her calf on my shoulder, biting the soft skin. I wanted to mark her everywhere. Claim her.
“Touch yourself,” I grunted, filling her up, her walls clamping me. “Rub your pretty c**t and make yourself c*m again, Doll.”
She obeyed, gliding her hand down her body, but she stopped when I pounded inside her. She was gasping and panting, a thin sheet of sweat glistening off of her.
