Max could barely feel his cock anymore. Rosalia’s throat had wrecked him so thoroughly that every nerve ending scread with raw, hypersensitive overload. Yet sohow he still felt starved, aching for more.
The second her slick, dripping pussy swallowed him whole, the swollen, sensitive head of his cock dragged along her tight, velvet walls and sent violent tremors racing up his thighs. His head snapped back against the chair with a sharp, ragged exhale, teeth clenched as he fought back the loud groan threatening to rip from his throat.
It felt too good, indescribably, dangerously good, like she was a sinful angel sent straight from heaven to ruin him before he ever reached the afterlife. Her scorching heat wrapped around every inch of him, pulsing and fluttering like she was made to fit him perfectly.
Rosalia’s round, plump ass began to move in slow, deliberate circles, rising and falling with calculated precision.
Each roll of her hips ground her dripping cunt down onto him, letting him feel every slick inch of her inner walls squeezing and rippling along his length.
She turned her head over her shoulder to look at him, biting her lower lip hard, her eyes blazing with pure, unfiltered lust and wicked satisfaction. The raw desire written across her flushed face made Max’s blood boil hotter than any battle he’d ever fought.
All the crushing stress that had weighed on him for days simply vanished, evaporating like it had never existed. In this mont, nothing else in the world remained, only her. Only the perfect, naked body riding him like she owned every inch of his soul.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from where her glistening pussy stretched obscenely around his thick shaft, swallowing him again and again, the puffy lips clinging to him on every upward glide.
His hands gripped the arms of the wooden chair so tightly the wood creaked under his fingers, knuckles white. He was terrified that if he let go, he’d lose control completely, thrust up into her too hard, and shatter the perfect rhythm she was building just for him.
Noticing the wrecked, desperate look on his face, Rosalia’s wicked smile widened. She started moving faster, slamming her ass down harder, each powerful thrust producing loud, filthy wet sounds as her soaked pussy juices coated his cock and dripped ssily down his balls.
"Haah... ahhh~! Do you... Haa... like it, my king?" she asked in a broken, sultry voice, barely able to speak through the constant stream of needy moans spilling from her lips. "Mmmph—fuck~! You’re so deep... so fucking big inside ... ahhn~!"
She leaned forward slightly, bracing her hands on his thighs for leverage, and began bouncing with shaless intensity. Her heavy breasts swayed hypnotically with every rise and fall, nipples hard and begging for attention.
"I love your pussy..." Max groaned, his voice wrecked with pleasure as he panted heavily. "I love the way you ride , Rosalia..."
"Really~?" Rosalia gasped, her sultry voice cracking with pure delight. In that very mont, her inner walls clamped down around him like a scorching, velvet vice, squeezing and rippling along every throbbing inch of his cock with greedy, possessive hunger. "It... haaaah~! It makes so happy—ahhn~!"
Her flushed, beautiful face lit up with ecstatic bliss and wicked hunger, eyes glazing over as her moans suddenly turned wilder, louder, and far more primal. A deep, animalistic urge surged through her like a desperate, feral need to milk him dry and make him fill her up completely with his hot, thick release.
Each ti she dropped down, her ass clapped loudly against his lap, the wet, obscene squelch of her cunt devouring him echoing through the room. Her inner walls clenched rhythmically around him, milking his oversensitive cock like she wanted to pull another orgasm straight from his soul.
Max’s vision blurred at the edges. Pleasure so sharp it was almost painful crashed through him in relentless waves, every nerve still raw from her throat now singing with even greater ecstasy.
He could feel her dripping arousal soaking his thighs, the scorching heat of her pussy gripping him tighter with every frantic bounce. His abs clenched hard, thighs shaking uncontrollably beneath her as she rode him like a woman possessed.
"Fuck—Rosalia..." he groaned.
She threw her head back, long hair cascading down her back as her moans grew louder, wilder. "Ahh—yes~! Right there—haaa~! You feel so good... I’m so wet for you... mmmph—"
The way she moved. The way she was grinding, circling, then slamming down again, kept changing the angle just enough to hit every sensitive spot inside her while dragging along the underside of his cock in the most torturous, perfect way.
Max was drowning in sensation: the slick heat, the tight squeeze, the wet sounds, her desperate little cries, the sight of her perfect ass rippling every ti it slapped against him. Exhaustion, stress, everything else had burned away until only white-hot pleasure and raw need remained.
Rosalia kept riding him without rcy, faster, wetter, hungrier, determined to make her king forget the entire world existed outside her body.
Agnia bit down hard on her finger, barely able to breathe as she watched them. Seeing them make love felt like the sweetest torture, like a burning, aching desire so far out of reach that she didn’t know whether she should storm in completely naked and beg to join them, or drag Rosalia off Max so she could take her place and claim every inch of him for herself.
Deep down, she understood the painful truth. Now that Max held real power, she could easily be cast aside once he no longer needed her. That frightening realization only made her crave him more desperately.
She wanted to beco his woman. She wanted to experience exactly what Rosalia was feeling right now: that lust-drunk expression of pure, shaless bliss, riding him so freely, mating with a human without caring about any consequences at all.
How would it feel to have him stretch her open like that? To be filled and claid so deeply, so perfectly?
Without even realizing it, her trembling hand had slid lower, pressing desperately against her soaked pussy through the thin fabric of her dress. She was absolutely dripping. Hot, slick arousal had already soaked through her panties and was running shalessly down her inner thighs in glistening trails.
"Yes~! Yes, my king—!" Rosalia suddenly cried out, her voice breaking beautifully with overwhelming pleasure. "Oh fuck, I’m— I’m cumming! Ahhn~! I love you! I love you so much, my king! I love you, Max—! Haaah~! Please... fill up~! Fill your good girl, my love!"
The raw, ecstatic scream jolted Agnia back to reality. Her heart hamred wildly against her ribs as she finally realized what she had been doing: standing there secretly touching herself while watching them. Her cheeks burned with sha and unbearable heat.
She turned and fled quietly down the corridor, panting hard, thighs slick with her own excitent, desperate to hide herself far away before she did sothing truly reckless.
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