My legs were still trembling from Zev’s relentless f*****g, my p***y slick with his c*m and my own arousal, as he carried me from the living room wall to the kitchen.
The storm outside roared, rain lashing the windows, but it was nothing compared to the heat pulsing between us. His red skin glistened with sweat, his chiseled abs flexing as he moved, those black horns catching the dim light from my flickering overhead bulb.
His c**k, still hard and obscene, bobbed with each step, the ridges along its thick, veined length gleaming with our combined fluids. It was a deep red, like his skin, the head swollen and slick, the ridges pronounced and pulsing, designed to torment every inch of me. My oversized t-shirt clung to my skin, damp with sweat and stretched from his rough handling, barely
