When he rolled his hips the sound was obscene… a slow, glossy drag of flesh through too much wetness. When he gave a sharper thrust it turned into a lewd, meaty slap that echoed under the trees.
The scent rising off their joined bodies was even more dense now… salt and musk and the green smell of crushed moss mixed into something primal, something sacred.
Sol leaned down until his chest nearly touched hers.
The new angle folded her tighter and let him grind even deeper. He could feel the soft resistance of her cervix against the tip of his cock with every pass.
Zeyra's entire body jerked each time it happened, a full-body flinch of pure sensation.
Her cunt responded by clamping down in sudden, irregular spasms that had nothing to do with orgasm and everything to do with being so full she could barely process it.
Sol discovered he could feel her heartbeat in places he shouldn't.
