Even as Miku cursed him, even as she swore she hated him, every nerve, every fiber of her being was consumed by him.
She rode harder, faster, urgent beyond reason, clinging to him with every ounce of herself, lost entirely in the tempest of pleasure, domination, and undeniable need.
Ross's hands did not pause for even a single second, roaming over Miku's body with ruthless precision.
He toyed with her breasts relentlessly—pinching, kneading, pulling her sensitive nipples, and sucking them into his mouth between his merciless thrusts.
Each touch sent fresh shivers of pleasure coursing through her, her chest rising and falling rapidly as he expertly alternated between teasing and pressure.
Miku's body felt simultaneously tormented and alight, every nerve ending vibrating under his control.
Her hands clutched his broad shoulders, gripping tightly as if to anchor herself against the storm of sensation consuming her.
