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50. We Shouldn't Be Doing This

Isla’s POV

Dario kneaded my sensitive nipple in his hands as he switched the pace grinding into me with renewed vigour, gyrating his hips in rolling thrusts, driving his cock to the hilt inside my clingy hole.

It was all too much. I moaned, savouring the delightful fullness, the slight pang of pain as he increased his pace. His thrusts drove me insane, tickling my engorged clit, my slit mashed against the sheets, soaking the fabric.

I slide my arm in front of me, placing it into his soft hair. Dario grabbed my arm and pulled me away. He pinned it against the bed. He leaned down, nipping my ear. As he slammed his cock deeper with me reaching my core, and I gasped.

"Dario," I moaned, gasping again as he drove his rigid erection, further touching my walls.

I could feel him breathing hard in my ear, groaning as he thrusts. "Fuck, Isla, "

He slithered his tongue over my lips, moaning into me, as he continued to fuck me, wildly determined, with deep, slamming strokes.

I held his face, my
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