"How long have I been coming?" Makena wondered dimly, the thought floating through her mind like a distant echo.
Time had dissolved hours ago; there was no clock, no daylight, only the endless rhythm of Clark's body against hers and the relentless waves of pleasure that refused to let her go.
She couldn't speak anymore—her throat was raw, her voice reduced to nothing but hoarse whispers and broken gasps from the countless moans and cries he had wrung from her lips.
Clark's massive cock—fifteen thick, veined inches of pure, overwhelming heat—had ruined her in the most exquisite way possible.
From the moment he'd first pressed that swollen head against her virgin entrance and slowly, inexorably pushed inside, she had been lost.
The stretch had been shocking, almost too much, yet her body had welcomed him greedily, her slick walls parting for him as though she'd been made for this alone.
