Celestia was bent over the cold, unyielding surface of the granite island, her fingers gripping the edge so hard her knuckles had turned white. Her dress was a ruin of fabric bunched around her waist, exposing the delicate black lace of her thong and the smooth curve of her ass to the cool air. Behind her, Sebastian was a furnace of heat, his presence overwhelming, dominating her senses completely. He didn’t ask for permission; he took what was offered with a confidence that made Celestia’s knees weak. She felt the blunt, heavy head of his cock prodding at her entrance, teasing her slick folds. She was already soaking wet, her body betraying her need with a flood of arousal that coated her thighs. The anticipation was a physical ache, a throb deep in her clit that demanded attention. She pushed back against him, a silent plea, a desperate invitation. "Please," she gasped, the word barely audible, torn from her throat by the sheer intensity of her need. Sebastian didn’t make her
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