I sat up, placing my hands on her hips, and started thrusting, slow and deep, watching as her body arched with each penetration. Her moan grew more stable, a rhythmic symphony that matched the tempo of my movements. I leaned over her, my breath hot against her ear, whispering, "Sorry, you look so sexy from the back, I can't help it." The words were a caress, a declaration of the raw desire that had taken hold of me.
Her sleepy voice was like honey, a sweet and intoxicating promise that wrapped around me. "No, I love that," she murmured, her voice thick with love and sleep. "Please do it as many times as you want." Her words were a balm, soothing the guilt that had been trying to sneak in. Instead, they fanned the flames of my passion, urging me to claim her once more, to lose myself in the warmth of her embrace.
