Julian didn't stop. He kept the rhythm slow at first—deep, rolling thrusts that dragged along Celestia's inner walls with deliberate friction, each one pulling a fresh, trembling moan from her throat. His thumb continued circling her clit in tight, steady patterns while his other hand roamed her body—squeezing her breast, pinching her nipple, then sliding up to cradle the side of her neck as he kissed her deeply.
Celestia's composure shattered further with every motion. Her silver hair tangled wildly beneath her, strands sticking to her sweat-damp skin. Her gray eyes—usually so sharp and calculating—were half-lidded and glassy, pupils blown wide. Soft, broken whimpers escaped her lips between kisses, growing louder, less controlled.
"Ahh… Julian… deeper… hnnh… right there… don't stop… nhaa…!"
