Powerless Boy is reborn as Lustful Elf
Chapter 37: Feeling her orgasm

Chapter 37: Feeling her orgasm

When it hit, it was fiercer, a storm that crashed through her, her body tensing as she peaked.

A trembling "Ohh" slipped out, barely audible, muffled by the press of her mouth, her nails biting into his flesh as she rode the wave, her frame quaking with the intensity of it.

Alex felt every shudder, every clench of her core around him, and it sent a jolt through his own body, his rod throbbing in response.

His hands tightened on her thighs, the muscle beneath his palms flexing as he guided her through it, his own pleasure mounting dangerously close to the edge.

A low groan rumbled in his chest, a deep "Mmm" that he forced down, his jaw clenching tight to keep it from spilling out.

The sound vibrated against her, a quiet testament to the strain of holding back, his teeth gritted as he fought the urge to let go.

His breaths grew sharper, more labored, each one a battle to stay silent, to keep the house from stirring around them.

Lyriel’s movements slowed as the second orgasm ebbed, her body softening against him, her hands still pressed to his abs, feeling the tension there.

The air between them was thick, heavy with the scent of sweat and the unspoken heat of their connection, the moonlight painting their entwined forms in soft contrasts.

She lifted her head slightly, her golden eyes meeting his, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she caught her breath, her chest rising and falling with a rhythm that matched his own.

Lyriel’s body trembled as she slipped off Alex, her legs unsteady beneath her, quivering like a newborn fawn finding its footing.

The air in the room felt thick, heavy with the scent of their mingled sweat and the faint musk of desire that clung to their skin.

Her knees buckled slightly as she slid downward, her bare feet meeting the cool hardwood floor with a soft thud.

The sensation grounded her for a fleeting moment, a stark contrast to the heat still pulsing through her veins.

She exhaled shakily, her breath a ragged whisper in the dim light, and turned her body with deliberate care.

Her hands reached out instinctively, fingers brushing the rumpled edge of the bed, its sheets already twisted from their earlier entanglement

She bent forward, her torso lowering until her palms pressed firmly into the mattress, the fabric bunching beneath her grip.

Her nails dug into the cotton, anchoring her as she offered herself up to him, her hips tilting in silent invitation.

Behind her, Alex stood tall, his silhouette a shadowed outline against the faint glow seeping through the curtains.

His chest rose and fell with deep, controlled breaths, the rhythm of his lungs betraying the storm of want brewing beneath his calm exterior.

He stepped closer, the floor creaking faintly under his weight, and aligned himself with her.

His hands, large, warm, and calloused from years of labor, settled on her hips, fingers splaying wide to claim her curves.

The heat of his touch seared into her skin, a brand that sent a shiver racing up her spine despite the flush already coloring her body.

He paused there, his rod poised at her core, the anticipation stretching the moment into something taut and electric.

Then, with a slowness that bordered on reverence, he entered her.

The initial press was deliberate, a careful breach that made Lyriel’s breath hitch in her throat.

Her body yielded to him, soft and pliant, yet alive with tension as he filled her inch by inch.

Alex’s jaw tightened, his teeth grazing his lower lip as he fought to keep his pace measured.

But restraint could only hold so long.

Soon, the slow glide gave way to a steadier rhythm, a cadence that built with each thrust.

His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her back to meet him, their bodies syncing in a dance as old as time.

The bed frame, sturdy and unyielding, remained mercifully silent beneath their movements—no squeaks or groans to betray them to the world beyond these walls.

Yet the air itself seemed to hum, charged with the unspoken intensity crackling between them.

Lyriel’s spine curved gracefully, an arch that deepened with every motion.

Her back glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, the dim light catching the contours of her form, each dip and rise a testament to her surrender.

Her head dipped low, strands of her hair spilling across the sheets like ink on parchment.

She pressed her face into the mattress, the fabric cool against her flushed cheeks, and muffled the sounds threatening to spill from her lips.

Her whimpers came soft and broken, a delicate "Ahh" that vibrated into the bedding, barely audible yet laden with raw need.

The sound was a secret, a confession meant only for the space they shared, swallowed by the sheets before it could escape.

Alex, towering behind her, leaned forward slightly, his chest hovering just above her back.

The heat of his body radiated against her skin, a furnace stoked by the fire they’d ignited together.

His breath brushed her shoulder, hot and uneven, a gust that stirred the fine hairs at the nape of her neck.

Each exhale carried the weight of his exertion, a primal edge to the way his lungs worked to keep pace with his thrusts.

His hands slid briefly from her hips, fingers tracing the dip of her waist before returning to their possessive hold.

The rhythm he’d built grew firmer, more insistent, his rod driving into her with a precision that made her toes curl against the floor.

A low moan rumbled in his throat, deep and resonant, the sound of a man teetering on the edge of control.

"Fuck..." he muttered, the word slipping out before he could catch it, a hushed, guttural slip that hung in the air for a heartbeat.

He swallowed hard, the rest of his voice dying in his chest as he reined himself back, his focus narrowing to the point where their bodies met.