The pace established itself. Not slow anymore. His hands on her hips directed each thrust with a precision that was almost mechanical — pulling her back as he drove forward, the collision of his hips against her ass producing a sound that rolled across the pool deck.
Her breasts swung beneath her. Soft and heavy, swaying forward with each thrust and back, the nipples dragging against the cushion fabric, the friction making her cry out between every other sound.
Veronica made a sound from the lounger.
Low, private.
Her fingers worked between her thighs and her eyes were wide and fixed on Raven's back, on the flex of muscle with each thrust, on the specific and familiar shape of him that she had learned thoroughly enough to feel it in her own body just from watching.
The mark at her collarbone pulsed. Warm.
PAH. PAH. PAH. PAAH.
"'HNGH~!! AAHH~!!♡ I'M — I'M GOING TO—'"
"'Now,'" Raven said.
