We take off our clothes, leaving room for inquisitive drift, space to clarify the passionate darkness going through our bodies in an intense spiral. Our free will was decided by the wrongness that felt so good, the sin that without realizing it imprisoned us again.

He snatched the expensive dress from my skin and threw it somewhere in the hotel room. His eyes gleamed like those of a wolf having dinner served. I fixed my gaze on his long fingers unzipping his dark pants, I bit my lip, I knew in advance what would come next. His manhood came out, I flushed all over, but steeled myself to receive it anyway.

He flipped me onto my back, pinned my wrists, a clear warning that he was in control. Once exposed to him, he coursed through me with lust and treachery. His lips played with my nipples, and I moaned, arching from the surge of pleasure that just his mischievous tongue generated. He spent a long time devouring my mounds hardened by the heat of his warm breath scattering wet oscules, co