He held her hips and pumped his hard shaft in and out, in and out, making her squeal in pleasure.
Beside her, Raayani was biting her lip as she stared at Cleora and the lustful expressions she was giving.
After a dozen such soul-stirring thrusts, he withdrew, his cock slipping from her with a wet sound.
Without a word, he shifted to Raayani.
"My arrogant, beautiful matriarch."
He entered her in the same way, his thickness stretching her differently, her inner walls clinging to him with a desperate, velvety heat. He fucked her with the same measured, profound depth, his pace a mirror of what he'd given Cleora. He was creating a symphony, and they were his instruments.
Back and forth he moved, a conductor of pleasure.
Five deep, languid strokes in Cleora, whose head was bowed, soft whimpers of "more, my love, more…" falling from her lips.
