She sits astride the old wooden chair, legs spread wide, her pale freckled skin glistening with a faint sheen of sweat in the dim light of the room. Her fiery red hair cascades in wild waves around her shoulders, framing a face marked by those striking green eyes and a scattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
Behind her, I stand close—my calloused hand cupping one of her full, heavy breasts, thumb brushing over the hardened peak. My other arm reaches around her waist, fingers sliding between her parted thighs. Two thick, rough fingers are buried deep in her slick, warm cunt, slowly pumping in and out with deliberate, teasing strokes while my palm grinds against her swollen clit.
Her back arches against my chest, lips parted in a soft, breathless moan. One of her hands grips the chair for support, the other resting on my forearm as I work her—reaching around from behind in that intimate, possessive way. The air is thick with the scent of her arousal, the wet sounds of my fingers moving inside her echoing softly in the quiet room.
A raw, hungry moment between a monster hunter and the fiery redhead who somehow always finds trouble... or maybe just finds me.
