It was louder than any sound she had made yet.
Her head snapped up.
Her eyes went wide, her pupils blown, and her mouth fell open, and a bright thread of spit ran off her lip and dripped onto the table.
A sudden, enormous fullness filled her from the inside, stretching and hot, so thick and so deep that for a moment she could not tell where she ended and he began.
Every nerve she owned went white.
Her fingers dug into the table. Her toes curled in her stockings.
The stretch burned and eased at once, oil making the slide smooth while her body clenched hard around the intrusion.
And Lor, half buried in her, gasped through his teeth.
She was tight.
She was tighter than anything he had ever felt, hot and slick and gripping, and each pulse of her clenched around him so hard that his vision whitened at the edges.
The oil made it smooth. The tightness made it unbearable.
He had to stand perfectly still, his fingers digging into her hips, shaking all over, and breathe.
