The room had grown darker, the single candle long since guttered out, leaving only faint moonlight to trace the shapes of furniture and skin.
The chair, an exquisite wooden one with a high, carved back, stood near the window, its seat still warm from where they had sat earlier.
Annabelle knelt on the cushioned seat, knees spread, hands wrapped tightly around the smooth curve of the backrest.
Her fingers curled over the top edge like she was holding on to something with her life. Her eyes closed as the woman tried her best to keep her voice low.
Behind her, Adrian stood close, one hand resting low on her hip, the other holding the arm rest of the chair to keep the woman in position.
He pressed himself against her first,hot, thick, still slick from before, letting her feel the full length of him nestled between her thighs without entering yet.
She exhaled shakily, head dipping forward until her forehead rested against the wood.
