By the time seven hours had passed, the entire place bore evidence of their limitless hunger.
The table was marked with fingerprints and scratches.
The couch cushions were knocked to the floor. Their mixed fluids glistened faintly on the hardwood, trailing like soft moonlit reflections.
"Hahhhh…"
"Hahhhh…"
"Hahhhh…"
Marissa lay sprawled across the table, her hair messy and damp, her chest rising and falling in deep, shaky breaths she couldn't control.
Her legs were completely numb—every muscle in her body felt melted, trembling from exhaustion and pleasure.
She had squirted so many times she'd lost track, her thighs still slick and sensitive.
Her belly felt warm and full, remembering every time Ross had emptied himself deep inside her.
Her mind was barely able to form coherent thoughts, but the one that remained clear made her smile through her exhaustion:
She didn't regret a single second.
