Page 162 of Kentrell

Life as I once knew it was gone.

I craved him in ways I shouldn’t have but did.

Already hooked on the way he touched me, kissed me, looked at me like I washis.

And I didn’t want to come down.

I didn’t want to go back.

“Zoe…” he murmured behind me, voice deep and low.

My thoughts scattered.

His hand slid lower, cupping between my thighs. Stroking slow circles on my clit as his hips kept moving behind me, drawing me back into the moment.

I moaned, soft at first.

Then louder.

His touch was too gentle and too deliberate to ignore. The pressure of his fingers and the drag of his dick inside me worked together like they were having a conversation—one my body understood completely.

He kissed the shell of my ear. “Where you go just now, huh?”

I couldn’t answer.

Couldn’t speak.

Only feel.

“Kentrell…” I whimpered, reaching back for him, needing him closer.

“I’m right here,” he growled, voice rough now, breath stuttering like mine. “Let it go.”

He pulled my leg higher, hips grinding deeper, his fingers speeding up just enough to push me closer to the edge.

I clenched, eyes wide open now, lost in the heat.

“Let it go for me,” he whispered, teeth grazing my shoulder.

My whole body locked.

The pressure snapped all at once.

And I came.

Hard.

Creamy.

Loud.

My mouth opened in a moan I couldn’t contain, my body trembling as I released all over him—shaking, clenching, riding out every wave of it.

“Fuck…” he hissed, grabbing my hip with both hands now, pumping harder, chasing his own release.

He cursed again—low, gritty, possessive—and then I felt him throb deep inside me.

Filling me.

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