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With each teasing stroke and nibble, he drew me increasingly near to the brink—only to suddenly withdraw at the last, thrilling instant, leaving me breathless in a state of lingering, exquisite torment.

I cried out, “Don’t do this to me. Don’t leave me hanging.”

“Soon, my love, you will feel everything,” he assured, a hum of approval filling the space between our mingled breaths.

A sound that embodied complete surrender and unwavering control.

My orgasm built within me like a tsunami ready to unleash its powerful force. Everything inside me clenched, my skin tingled, and my body no longer belonged to me.

It was all Niko’s.

“Please,” I moaned, adding breathlessly, “I need more. Don’t stop. I’m begging you.”

The sensations were a heady mix of heated passion, the intoxicating taste of desire, the feel of his insistent, wet caresses, and the sound of my moans blending with his low, commanding whispers.

“Now come for me,” he ordered, and the hypnotic rhythm of his skillful ministrations sent me spiraling into climax.

My back bowed and my mind clouded as my body trembled and my pussy clenched and flexed. He wouldn’t stop. He pushed me from one release to the next, each more overwhelming than the last, until all I could do was take and take.

Between fervent licks and torturous pauses, my skin quivered under his attention, each moment crafted to stretch the limits of pleasure even more.

“Niko,” I whispered, my breath uneven as I struggled to contain my need, “I find myself completely lost to you.”

His reply was a fierce, possessive growl mixed with tender reassurances.

“I’m just getting started, my sweet Laya.” It was a velvety promise meant to scare me and make me beg.

He resumed his artful assault on my senses with measured precision, his tongue dancing expertly along my skin and leaving trails of heat that sent shivers of anticipation through me.

Every lick was intentional, each pause purposeful—a tantalizing performance that tinged my taste buds with the salt of my desire, blending with subtle notes of his musky scent. The sound of his moist explorations mingled with my gasps and whimpers, echoing around us like the steady beat of an ancient drum.

His smooth, strong hands traced deliberate paths over my trembling thighs. He knew every inch, every reaction, every quiver, triggering a series of shuddering, almost overwhelming orgasms, each one more powerful than the last, leaving me on the brink of pure, unfiltered bliss.

“I can’t take any more. I need you.”

He lifted his head and caught my gaze. The feral light in his stare quickened my heartbeat. It was primal, possessive, and I craved more.

“Do you need me, Laya?”

I nodded.

“You’ll have me.” With confident grace, he moved between my trembling thighs, his eyes locking onto mine with raw, ferocious need.

He positioned himself at my sopping opening and entered me with a powerful, seismic thrust that sent waves of fierce pleasure through my core.

His desire was unmistakable, each movement igniting waves of ecstatic energy throughout my nerves. Our bodies merged in relentless passion—skin against skin, heat mingling with the heady aroma of sweat and arousal. Each movement deepened our connection, a synchronized dance of lust and control.

“Come for me,” he ordered, the cadence of his harsh, commanding authority washing over me. “Now.”

Just like that, the dam inside me burst open. A torrent of orgasmic bliss took over, one climax after another—a swirling blend of sharp, pulsating tension and the sweet release of surrender.

“Yes, just like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.

My cries and quiet pleas intertwined with the deep, guttural groans of his pleasure, creating a soundscape filled with mutual fulfillment.

The energy in the room hummed with a palpable force whirling around us, pulsing with our combined lust.

“I love hearing you,” he added between breaths, the air filled with the sound of his skin slapping against mine, the tender squelch of our merging bodies, and the periodic rush of our ragged breaths.