The heat of him swallowed me whole.
I sank in inch by inch, the slick walls of his slit gripping me like a fist made of molten silk. K-19’s breath hitched, a low, rolling growl that vibrated through his chest and into mine where my palms braced against his scaled pecs. His legs spread wider, knees hooking over my hips, claws digging into the couch cushions with a sound like tearing canvas.
“Eli,” he rasped, voice ragged, “you’re—f**k, so thick—”
I paused halfway in, letting him adjust. The ridged channel inside him fluttered, milking me, trying to drag me deeper. His c**k had fully emerged now, uncoiling from the upper part of the slit like a living thing: ten inches of dark, ridged flesh, the flared head already weeping clear fluid that dripped down the underside and pooled on his stom
