He needed no further encouragement. With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, and they both moaned at the exquisite sensation of being joined once more. 

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, his forehead resting against hers as he began to move, his strokes slow and deliberate at first, then faster, harder, driven by a primal need that consumed them both.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Please, don't stop."

"Never," he promised, his hips pistoning into her, his balls slapping against her ass with every thrust. The room filled with the sounds of their lovemaking—the slap of skin...