Garden of May - Chapter 153
The position with legs spread, straddling the man’s thighs—was embarrassing, yet for the first time, it felt like she held some control in their relationship. The chair supporting both their weights creaked thinly with every shift. Vanessa pressed her lips to the slick curve of his neck, steadying her breath.
With her eyes closed, she let herself imagine that they were on a vast, storm-tossed sea. The creaking noise was the sound of old ship planks groaning together. They were out of drinking water, and they were still tangled together like this.
“Ah…”
Beneath her pale, soft, parted hips, his dark, veined s***t twitched. It looked like a thick, pulsing root, alive with fierce vitality. Still stubbornly e***t, as if he hadn’t just come moments ago.
As if ready to part her again, plunging into her still-sensitive, wet flesh….
Just thinking of the pleasure only he could give made her inner walls slick with shameful fluid. It seeped down to his s***t, still pressed intimately against her, making wet, sticky sounds. The tip she’d been holding down with her weight sprang up, thrusting hard between her b******s.
Vanessa braced her hands on his firm abdomen, letting out a low moan. His skin, slick with their mixed fluids and sweat, felt unusually smooth. Her excitement spiked again. She bit her lip, pressing her hips down harder, grinding against him—chasing the memory of pleasure.
“Hngh.”
River Ross, who had been softly kissing her swollen b*****s, groaned and gripped her waist with both hands. His hands were so large that one alone could encircle half her slender torso.
His elegant brow furrowed, and veins stood out on his straining throat. Sweat dripped from his flushed cheeks. Gritting his teeth against the pleasure, River Ross looked almost holy.
“Don’t push it.”
He gripped her waist again, trying to steady her squirming body. Swallowing a moan that seemed ready to break from him, he caught her left hand.
“If we go further, your body won’t hold up.”
River Ross’s ragged breath scattered across her collarbone. As he slowly pressed his forehead to hers, golden hair cascaded over his broad shoulders and chest. Her fingers, combing through the back of his hair, tightened.
“Don’t… haah… hold back…”
Their bodies, having taken each other many times already, were well past their limits, but she insisted stubbornly. Vanessa pressed his hand against her cheek with her own, rubbing her saliva-wet lips against his scarred palm and begging.
“Just… so I can’t think… at all…”
Her eyes, clouded with heat, blinked slowly as she looked at him. She felt almost drunk. Her whole body was unusually sensitive tonight.
Leaning their fevered bodies against each other, the satisfaction of deep entanglement always left her giddy. The bond of being connected at their most vulnerable, the sensation of belonging deeply to one another.
She found him endearing, holding back his desire beneath her. His unusually deep eyes, his tenderness that asked nothing reckless, pleased her.
The breath scattering over her bruised, flushed b*****s was unbearably hot. The moment she bucked her hips in a silent plea—gripping her pale hips so tightly his fingerprints would bruise—he slid to the deepest point in one stroke.
Once settled, his s***t swelled rapidly as if releasing pent-up hunger. Her reddened folds stretched to their limit.
“Ah… hnngh…”
Her lashes grew stiff with tears that had pooled there. The teasing, grinding pace quickened.
Her core boiled with heat. Her walls, worn from a long night, opened as wide as they could, spilling clear fluid. The tips of her overstimulated n*****s ached with sharp pain.
Just his touch, just the press of his lips to her skin, made her cry out as if she might shatter. Her racing thoughts finally melted away.
To her delight.
