Maya was caught in a hellish, exquisite purgatory. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the phone so hard her fingers began to ache, her entire body vibrating with the effort of maintaining a fragile silence.
Every muscle in her thighs was locked tight around Mike's waist, her legs shaking with the strain of holding herself upright while her insides were being ravaged.
'I can't make a sound... One sound... Just one broken note, one gasp that's too high, one moan that's too wet, and it's over,' her mind shrieked in a state of hypervigilant terror. 'If my voice cracks even a little, if I breathe too loud, Marc will know...'
'He'll hear the truth... He'll hear exactly how I'm being filled up right now...'
But her body was a traitor. Despite the paralyzing fear of being caught, her nerve endings were firing on all cylinders.
The combination of the adrenaline from the risk and the brutal, relentless rhythm Mike was establishing was driving her toward a cliff she couldn't avoid.
