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Lorenzo’s tongue circled the tip of her clit, deliberate and tantalizing, barely exploring, savoring every second.

He drank in every inch of her—her flushed face, the soft curves of her body, the glistening wetness between her thighs. She was perfection—unimaginably beautiful and completely his.

The intensity of it overwhelmed him, twisting inside his chest like a fierce storm. He wanted to be the only one to claim her, to own every gasp, every cry, every shiver. To be the one who made her cry out and whimper all at once.

But Lorenzo’s focus shifted. His fingers trailed over her slick folds, exploring until they found her other entrance.

He pushed his index finger inside.

Krystal jerked, a soft cry escaping her lips.

“A-ah—ahh…”

Her hips twisted sideways in a reflex to escape the intrusion, but Lorenzo’s grip was iron-strong. He captured her hip with his free hand, steadying her as he slid in a second finger.

“You wrap so tight around my fingers,” he growled, a dark smile pulling at his lips.

His fingers moved slowly, methodically, in and out, finding a steady rhythm designed to tease and torture, never pushing too fast, savoring the delicious tension building inside her.

He wanted her to know, wanted her to feel it deep inside: he was the one giving her this fire, the one fucking her tight body, the only one who could truly bring her to shattering, overwhelming pleasure.

He climbed up again, mouth crawling to her breast again. His lips wrapped around the sensitive nipple, sucking hard, flicking his tongue over the aching bud as his fingers continued their slow, tantalizing dance inside her.

Krystal moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more of that fierce, possessive touch.

Lorenzo’s eyes darkened with hunger. He pushed up the hem of his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the taut muscles beneath. His fingers worked at the buttons, undoing them one by one, peeling the fabric open until the shirt slipped off his broad shoulders and fell to the floor.

His pants followed, hands sliding to the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down and tossing it to the ground. Now completely bare, his skin flushed with heat, he shifted his weight, pressing his hips flush against hers.

With a low, guttural growl, he sank his rod deep inside her—full and heavy—stretching her tight, wet walls as he began to move.

Each thrust was a deep, hard, desperate claim that rocked her world.

His mouth never left her skin, lips sucking and biting, tongue tracing the curves of her breast, while his hips fucked her with a brutal, steady rhythm that stole her breath away.

Krystal cried out, lost in the wild storm of sensation—her body arching into him, every nerve on fire, every inch of her craving more.

Lorenzo’s hands gripped her hips tightly, pulling her deeper, marking her as his.

It didn’t take Lorenzo long to lose the little control he had left. He shifted positions, leaning back against the headboard and pulling Krystal up over himself.

His large hands gripped her small waist, palms enveloping her completely—tender, possessive. Then, with a powerful thrust, he lifted her and slammed her down onto his cock.

“Ahhhhhhh…” A broken cry spilled from her mouth.

She had nowhere to escape. All she could do was tighten her trembling arms around his neck as he used her body to take the full length of his thick, pulsing shaft.

Lorenzo’s focus was wild, obsessed, completely lost in the woman straddling his lap. He fucked her from beneath with deep, savage strokes. Each motion sent shockwaves through them both. The rod’s rhythmic movement only added to the chaos, intensifying the way his shaft dragged against her burning walls.

“It’s all…”—thrust—“…your fault. I haven’t cum until now.” Another thrust. “You’re gripping my cock like a vice. You want me to fuck you senseless. I’m buried so deep inside you, and you’re still soaking me with this filthy, sweet mess.”

His swollen girth throbbed with unbearable heat, so close to release yet denied the final edge. He was melting at the tip, every nerve alight with the need to make her feel every inch of him over and over.

So he fucked her harder. Her whimpers and broken sobs filled his ears as she clung to him like her life depended on it. Krystal was desperate to somehow feel… less. Every bounce—every shift—sent his hard rod pressing right into the deepest part of her, stimulating her g-spot.

She’d lost count of how many times she came. Her legs trembled. Her body convulsed around him. Her cheeks were soaked with tears as she buried her face into his shoulder, crying from pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Her lower body was too sensitive now, and every stroke felt like another orgasm was being pulled from her.

Lorenzo held her tighter, dragging her down onto him again—chasing that final high like a man gone mad.