Kristine's skin was buzzing. Her heart pounded wildly.
Her nipples were painfully hard beneath the fabric of her dress, and her lower body throbbed with aching need.
Her pussy clenched with every movement of his hips, every squeeze of his hands, growing wetter by the second.
She couldn't believe how wet she was. How ready. How desperate.
Her mind screamed that this was wrong. That she was married. That she needed to stop.
But her body didn't care. Her body had already decided.
Ross's large hands roamed her curves confidently, like he had every right to touch her.
One hand slid down her back and squeezed her ass—firm, greedy, and deliberate.
She moaned again, louder this time, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
Her legs tightened around him. She could feel every hard inch of his arousal pressing against the heat between her thighs, separated only by the thin barrier of fabric.
