The air was thick with moans—raw, unfiltered, and urgent.The desk beneath them creaked in protest, but the sound was drowned by the rhythmic slapping of their skins. Kenneth was buried deep inside Freya, his thrusts rough, relentless, and driven by years of pent-up hunger.“Fuck,” he growled, voice hoarse.Yes, this was one of his most private fantasies. To have her on this very desk. The very place he used to sit, dreaming of what her body would feel like. And now, she was here, writhing beneath him, clinging to him, taking every inch he gave her.Only the heavens knew how long he’d burned for this.Freya’s core was wet and warm. Her sex tightened around him.“Fuck.” He gripped her waist and watched as her breasts bounced with every thrust.He moved his hips harder, and his pants eventually fell to the floor.Freya leaned further back, spreading her legs wider for him. She screamed, “More! More! Give me more!”Her gown had bunched up around her waist. She still wore her thong, but K
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