The silence that followed Rex's initial roar was not one of completion but of a terrifying, escalating tension. Iris, pressed against the cold stone floor, could scarcely breathe.
Through the sliver of amber light, she saw that the encounter wasn't over; it was merely transforming into something more desperate, more consuming.
Rex remained buried inside her, his chest heaving against Diana's, but the connection had become something more than physical; it had become a vise.
Diana, still reeling from the waves of her own orgasm, showed no sign of pulling away. Instead, she reacted with a primal hunger of her own.
Her arms, freed from his grip as he relaxed momentarily, flew around his neck, her fingers digging into his sweat-slicked shoulders.
"Don't... don't you dare pull out," Diana whimpered, her voice raw and wrecked.
