Chapter 922: Chapter 922 Comrade
Carrie’s fingers held him close, and slowly, almost reverently, she began to press him against herself, testing, exploring, and feeling the intense friction that only heightened her racing pulse.
Her mind was a storm of emotions.
Part of her screamed to stop, to pull away, to remind herself this was wrong, that she should be scared.
But another part—an uncontrollable, forbidden part—was drawn to him, to the feeling of him, to the heat, the pressure, and the undeniable thrill that coursed through her body.
Carrie’s fingers slid along the length of him, teasing the sensitive tip against herself.
She pressed him lightly, feeling how impossibly thick he was against her.
Her body responded despite her fear, hips shifting slightly to feel more, to feel everything.
Every brush against her sensitive lips, every firm press along her folds, made her gasp, tremble, and bite her lip to keep quiet.
Her breathing grew ragged, shallow, uneven.
She could feel herself getting wetter, slickening around him, each moment of contact sending electric pulses through her body.
Her hands continued to stroke, her hips moving instinctively, testing, exploring, reveling in the sensation even as her mind reeled at the impossibility of his size.
Carrie’s heart raced faster with each passing second, her body trembling with anticipation.
She could feel how heavy, how hard, how impossibly large he was, and it sent a shiver of both fear and desire through her.
Every inch pressed against her, stretching her senses to the limit, leaving her dizzy, breathless, and completely overwhelmed.
For a long moment, she simply held him there, pressed between her legs, exploring every ridge, every curve, every vein.
She felt alive in a way she had never experienced, caught between fear, curiosity, and a craving that was impossible to resist.
Her fingers traced him again and again, exploring, learning, marveling at the sheer enormity of him, until she finally realized she couldn’t stop herself any longer.
She moved just slightly, adjusting her hips, letting the tip brush more insistently against her entrance.
The heat and wetness between her legs seemed to respond to him as if her body had been waiting for this moment all along.
Her mind swirled with disbelief, her pulse thundering in her ears.
This... this is impossible... and yet... it feels so real...
Even with all her fear and hesitation, Carrie felt a tremor of anticipation ripple through her.
Every inch, every pulse, every brush of his massive cock against her own body drove her closer to a limit she had never known she could reach.
Carrie shifted her hips again, the swollen folds of her pussy gliding against Ross’s thick, unmoving cock.
The heat of him made her shiver, and every small grind of her body against his length sent waves of tingling pleasure racing up her spine.
It felt too good, too dangerous, and before long, her body betrayed her once again.
Her thighs trembled, her stomach clenched, and she bit down hard on her lip, muffling the cry that threatened to spill out.
"Mmmhhppp..."
Her second climax of the night washed over her in hot, rolling waves.
Her toes curled, her back arched, and she pressed down harder against him, savoring the forbidden ecstasy.
When it finally ebbed, Carrie collapsed weakly beside him, gasping as though she had run a mile.
Her chest rose and fell in frantic bursts, her body glowing with sweat.
She could hardly believe it—twice now, she had come undone without Ross even moving a finger.
His cock simply rested there, thick and heavy between her legs, while she lost control over and over, grinding on him like a shameless woman.
Her blush deepened as her hazy thoughts settled.
No... there’s no way he’s still asleep.
She had been too noisy, too restless, too obvious.
Ross had to know—he must have felt every twitch of her hips, every desperate rub of her wet folds against him.
"Ross..." Carrie whispered timidly, her voice shaking as she buried her face against his chest.
The sound of his slow, steady breathing filled her ears, but she couldn’t tell if it was genuine or just a cruel pretense.
Her heart pounded, torn between fear and a dangerous thrill.
What if he really was awake?
What if he had been aware from the very beginning, letting her use his body however she wanted?
The thought alone made her shiver again, heat coiling low in her belly.
She bit her lip harder, torn between pulling away or daring to continue.
"Yes," Ross replied softly, his voice carrying both certainty and restraint.
He shifted with calm strength, guiding Carrie to turn and face him fully on the bed.
His hand lingered at her hip, firm yet gentle, as though he had been waiting for this moment for far too long.
He didn’t bother with more words—instead, he leaned in and captured her lips in a deep, unhesitating kiss.
Carrie’s breath hitched. Her heart leapt in her chest, and before she could think, her eyes fluttered closed.
His lips were warm, commanding yet tender, and the contact made her entire body tremble.
A wave of heat rushed through her, and for a fleeting moment, the world disappeared, leaving only the press of his mouth against hers.
"Mmmmmm..." she moaned softly into the kiss.
Her first kiss—so long imagined—was far more intoxicating than she had ever dreamed.
It wasn’t clumsy or uncertain; Ross kissed her with purpose, with a hunger that left her weak.
Her hands instinctively clutched at him, fingers curling into his shirt as though anchoring herself in the storm of new sensations.
Ross tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a rhythm that drew her in, coaxing her to respond.
Each brush, each gentle tug, sent sparks of pleasure through her body.
Carrie’s heart was about to burst in anticipation and of course Ross did not fail to deliver.
His hand slid slowly up her side, grazing her ribs before resting just beneath her breast.
The touch made Carrie shiver, her body arching toward him without thought.