The world beyond their sweat-slicked bodies had long since ceased to exist.
For Riley and Iris, there was only this: the dim, golden light of the candles around casting dancing shadows on the walls, the scent of their passion hanging heavy in the air, and the relentless, driving rhythm of their joining.
Riley, true to the fierce promise in his eyes, did not disappoint.
He moved with a single-minded intensity, as if trying to brand the very memory of this night onto their souls, fucking his new wife with a desperate, consuming fire that left no room for anything but sensation.
Pak…
Pak…
Pak…
The sharp, wet sound of their union was a percussive counterpoint to their ragged breaths.
Each powerful thrust of his hips drove him deeper into her welcoming heat, making the heavy bedframe groan in protest, its rhythmic thudding against the wall a testament to their abandon.
Iris's body was a study in surrendering motion, rocking roughly against the tangled sheets.
