---
She was milking him, her body instinctively trying to draw every bit of pleasure from him. John groaned, a low, animal sound that vibrated in his chest, his pace quickening from a slow burn to a frantic, driving heat.
The sound of their union became a wet, slapping symphony, echoing in the small room.
John could feel the build-up in his gut, a tightening coil of tension that threatened to snap. He looked down at her, seeing the way her eyes were glazed with lust, her lips parted and swollen from his kisses. She looked completely undone, a far cry from the composed, commanding woman who had walked through the door.
Rhea began to move her hips in a circular motion, grinding her pussycat against the base of his void stick. The added friction was almost too much. John felt his breath hitch, his movements becoming shorter and more urgent. He shifted his weight, pinning her wrists above her head, his chest heaving as he hammered into her with everything he had.
