Rachel’s pleasure had climbed to its peak so many tis, only to leave her hanging, teetering on the edge, unable to fall.
A sudden, chilling thought crept into her mind.
"Has he done sothing to ?!"
Her heart pounded as she fought to make sense of it. This wasn’t normal. She knew her body—knew exactly what it took to send herself over the edge.
And yet, here she was, trapped in a cycle of endless pleasure, unable to co.
Her sharp mind imdiately went to work, analyzing every mont that had led to this.
Her thoughts flickered back to earlier that evening. Their date. The food. The drinks. Could he have slipped sothing into them?
The idea made her pulse quicken, a cold dread settling in her stomach. Read new chapters at .Côm
Had Ross drugged her?
But… that didn’t make sense. If he had slipped her an aphrodisiac—sothing to make her more desperate, more willing to lose control—that would have been logical. That would have ensured she was reduced to a needy, begging ss, spreading her legs for him without hesitation.
But this? This was the opposite.
Why would he deliberately keep her from coming? What could he possibly gain from torturing her like this?
Her frustration surged again, hotter and more unbearable than before. In sheer desperation, she had even taken matters into her own hands, rubbing her clit furiously around the twentieth minute, determined to force herself over the edge.
And yet—nothing.
It was as if her body was completely under his control.
The realization sent a shiver through her, an unsettling mix of dread and arousal coiling in her stomach.
Sothing was wrong with her body.
And Ross was the only one who knew why.
Her eyes snapped open, searching his face, looking for answers.
Ross only smirked, his dark eyes filled with sothing unreadable—sothing dangerous.
"Impatient, aren’t we?" he murmured, his voice smooth and teasing.
Rachel clenched her jaw, her body screaming in protest, her mind racing with questions.
She didn’t know what he had done to her.
But she knew one thing for certain—
She needed to co.
And she was willing to do anything to make it happen.
Still, her rational mind won out in the end.
"Let up," Rachel said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. She pushed against Ross’s chest, and he allowed her to sit up, his dark eyes watching her intently.
"What’s wrong?" he asked, concern flickering across his face.
"Nothing," she replied too quickly. "I just need so water. I’m thirsty." It was a lie, but one she told with ease.
She rose from the bed, her legs feeling unsteady beneath her. The cool floor beneath her bare feet helped ground her, offering a fleeting illusion of control.
Walking over to the small table, she poured herself a glass and took a deliberate sip.
The sensation of water sliding down her throat made her feel, if only for a mont, that she was still in command—of her body, her thoughts, her actions.
But the truth was far more complicated.
A quiet voice in her head whispered, I should leave.
The thought struck her suddenly, like a ripple disturbing the surface of a still lake. She could gather her things, walk out that door, and pretend none of this had ever happened. It would be the logical choice.
The safe choice.
But she dismissed it almost instantly.
Leaving now would an admitting defeat. It would make all the ti she had spent here aningless. She had co this far. She wasn’t the kind of person to back down from a challenge.
No—there was only one choice.
Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. Her fingers curled around the edge of the glass for a mont longer before she finally set it down. Then, with quiet determination, she turned back to Ross.
"I’ll be back in a minute," she said, offering him a small, almost playful smile to mask the storm inside her.
His lips quirked in response, though he said nothing, only watching her with that sa unreadable expression.
She walked back to the bed, her heartbeat picking up again as she sat beside him. For a brief mont, hesitation flickered in her chest.
But as soon as his hand slid to her waist, pulling her gently toward him, the doubt lted away.
Their lips t once more.
Heat surged between them, their movents more urgent this ti, more desperate. Rachel barely noticed when Ross eased her onto his lap, her body instinctively pressing closer, seeking more.
She could feel him—hard and ready beneath her—and a shiver ran down her spine.
"Aahhh…" She moaned softly, her hips moving of their own accord, grinding against him. The sensation sent a delicious tremor through her, making her breath hitch.
Then, it happened.
Rachel felt the thick head of his cock slip inside her, and she froze. A sharp gasp left her lips as she adjusted to the sensation, her body tensing for a mont before relaxing.
She exhaled shakily, her fingers clutching his shoulders as she lifted herself slightly, allowing only the tip to remain inside her.
For a second, she hesitated, as if savoring the mont, committing every detail to mory.
Then, she moved.
Slowly, deliberately, she sank back down, her body stretching to accommodate him. Inch by inch, he filled her, the pressure mounting with every movent.
It was unlike anything she had ever felt before—so much, too much, and yet exactly what she needed.
"Ughhh…" A tremor ran through her as pleasure overtook every thought. Her body clenched around him, the sensation so overwhelming she had to bite her lip to stifle a scream.
And still, she moved.
Her hips rolled in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, her breath coming in soft, uneven pants. She could feel the tension coiling in her core, tight and unrelenting, threatening to snap at any mont.
Ross groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her waist, guiding her movents as she took him deeper, chasing the inevitable.
Rachel’s head tipped back, her nails digging into his skin.
She was lost—utterly, completely, beautifully lost.
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