She held him smothered through aftershocks. Thirty seconds. Forty. Only when the last tremor faded did she rise.
No pause.
Hands and knees. Back arched high. Knees spread wide. One hand reached back, fingers parting glistening folds in silent command.
Mahir rose behind her. Cock—still hard, still dripping—nudged her entrance. One powerful thrust seated him to the hilt. Deep enough to press against her cervix. He froze—waiting.
Elara pushed back. Hard.
Signal received.
Beast instincts surged within the collar's leash. Hands clamped her hips—bruising force, fingertips digging deep. He began to fuck her with piston rhythm: deep, brutal, animal strokes that slapped skin against skin in perfect time. Tail lashed wildly. Harsh breaths rasped from his throat—the only sound he permitted himself.
