Pak!
Ross delivered an identical, sharp slap to the other side, a cruel symmetry that made her entire body jolt.
But Ashley's rhythm didn't break.
If anything, it intensified, her movements becoming more frantic, more abandoned.
Ross did not stop.
He began a methodical, punishing assault, his hard palm decorating the landscape of her body with a patchwork of crimson handprints.
Each sharp crack was a punctuation mark in their lewd dialogue, a stark contrast to the wet, sucking sounds of their union.
Yet, the sound that tore from Ashley's lips was not a cry of pain.
It was a shattering, guttural scream of release, a sound so raw it seemed to scrape the walls.
"Ross, I'm coming! Ahhhhhh!"
It was a confession, a surrender, a prayer.
Her back arched into a perfect, taut bow, her head thrown back so far the cords of her neck stood out in sharp relief.
