Alexander sank into me raw in one deep, claiming thrust.
The stretch burned. The heat of him—bare, thick, throbbing—stole the last of my breath. I cried out against his mouth as he bottomed out, balls pressed tight to my ass, every ridge and vein dragging against my sensitive walls. No latex. Nothing between us. Just skin and slick and the filthy knowledge that a stranger was about to fill me.
He didn’t give me time to adjust. He f****d me like he owned the right—hard, deep, relentless strokes that forced wet, obscene sounds from my cunt with every impact. The headboard slammed the wall. My t**s bounced. Sweat slicked our skin. I clung to his shoulders, nails digging in, legs locked around his waist as he drove into me again and again.
“f**k—Joana—” My name sounded wrecked in his mouth.
