I built a rhythm, slow and deep, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in. Every thrust lifted her completely off the ground, her toes pointing uselessly toward the floor while she made these desperate little sounds into the table that drove me absolutely insane.
The drain widened with every stroke, cycling faster, pulling more of her Essentia through the connection until I could taste her thoughts. Her pleasure. Her shock at how good this felt. The way her brain kept short-circuiting every time I hit that spot inside her that made stars explode behind her eyes.
"Harder," she gasped.
"You sure?"
"Harder, Rome, please—"
I grabbed her hips with both hands and gave her what she asked for, driving in with enough force that the table scraped forward an inch across the floor. She screamed, the sound muffled by her arm pressed against her mouth.
"Fuck fuck fuck—"
"Still hate me?"
