The second round bled into a third, then a fourth.
Cecilia's mind had long since stopped trying to count.
Mika fucked her like a man possessed, like every ounce of pent-up hunger he'd carried for years was being poured into her body.
He took her missionary, her ankles locked over his shoulders, cock spearing so deep she felt it in her throat.
He flipped her again, face down, ass up, pounding her from behind until her arms gave out and her cheek pressed into the soaked sheets.
He folded her sideways, one leg thrown over his shoulder, the other pinned to the mattress, opening her so completely that every thrust dragged a fresh squirt from her overstimulated pussy.
He lifted her clean off the bed, back to his chest, her legs spread wide in a full-nelson, feet dangling helplessly as he bounced her on his cock like she weighed nothing.
Cecilia had always thought sex was just for reproduction and relief: a biological function, a quick stress-relief, in and out, done.
