But the thought was fleeting. Ross's next thrust pulled her back into the moment, her body jolting as he drove deeper, harder, forcing her to focus solely on the sensations overwhelming her.
Ross was an enigma—unrelenting, commanding, and now, with this murmured name, impossibly distant. It was as though he were both entirely present and yet somewhere far away. His acting skills, if this were all a facade, were unparalleled, matching the sheer power and control he exhibited.
Trinity, by contrast, was utterly undone. Her composure had shattered long ago. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her head thrown back against the pillows, and her mouth hung open, spilling out sweet, desperate moans with every thrust.
"Ahhhh…"
"Ohhhhhh…"
"Ughhhh…"
Her voice rose and fell in perfect harmony with Ross's movements, her cries growing louder and more desperate as he continued.
