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She clutched his locs, forcing him to gaze into her celestial eyes.

‘Ride, Rider, as hard you can.’

Her husky entreaty was all he needed.

He thrust in with a grunt, pulling out to the brink of her lush wetness before plunging in again, going out of his mind with lust.

His hips worked, and with each heated gasp, whispered name, and desperate press of skin, they drew closer to shattering.

His hands moved to her freakin’ muscled ass as he grew impossibly more enormous, harder.

His balls throbbing, his groin shot with a ratcheting euphoria, high on his desire for her.

His cock was on fire as he pistoned in, pulled out, in again and again, one hand now on her derriere, the other working her clit.

Lips melded to hers in an unplumbed and almost barbaric suckling.

He cried out before he bucked up to gaze into her wild astral eyes, losing himself in such cosmic bliss.

Her knees locked into his sides, one hand sunk into his locs, pulling at him as he moved from her mouth back to worship her tit.

Her hips jolted to his, legs so far apart, heels in his back, so he’d no recourse but to drive his cock harder, faster.

Even as her stroking hands on his spinal column, his ass, back up to the skull, set forth a dance of wild feeling over him.

Her cunt clenched around him, heat wrapping him in a primal, impossible blaze.

It wasn’t just a small blaze. It was an inferno, a wildfire licking up his spine, an eruption of pure, unfiltered power.

That’s when he spotted flames burst from her skin.

Not metaphorical. Not imagined.

Real, golden-white fire licked up from her core, illuminating them, casting their sweat-slicked bodies in its unholy glow.

Ki’Remi gasped, his fingers digging into her hips, bracing for the burn.

But it didn’t just scorch his physical form. Instead, it seared his soul.

Fokk, it ripped him apart.

It devoured him from within, pulling him into a dimension transcending pleasure and reason.

Each stroke, thrust, and slide against hers flung him down a path he never thought existed.

Fokk.

Every encounter before this? Second-rate. Meaningless. A ghost of what intimacy should be.

What he experienced was not sex, twas a journey, a freakin’ ascension to the highest heights of sublimity.

With every movement, gasp that left her lips, each groan that tore from his, he was getting pulled beyond the physical.

He was being unraveled.

It was as if she was opening a door inside him that led to a vast complex of hundreds of treasure houses.

All bursting open with blinding knowledge, wisdom, and fire.