Another round came—and then a third, and a fourth. Ross was insatiable, like a man possessed, and Ashley had no complaints.
He took her to the edge and beyond, over and over, until her legs trembled and her body quivered with overstimulation.
She had long since stopped counting how many times she'd climaxed.
Her voice had gone hoarse from moaning, her skin slick with sweat, her thoughts a jumbled haze of ecstasy and surrender.
Her inner slut, the one she always kept hidden beneath layers of civility and restraint, had broken free completely.
"Yes! Yes, yes!" she screamed without shame, her voice cracking with lust.
"Fuck me, Lyric! Fuck me hard!"
"I'm your whore—your slut—your everything!"
"I belong to you, just don't stop! Please, don't stop!"
There was no holding back now. Ashley had surrendered herself entirely to the pleasure he gave her.
But she wasn't just lying there, letting it happen—no, she was fully immersed, just as wild and hungry as he was.
