Ten agonizing minutes crawled by, each second stretching endlessly as Anne battled against her own limits.
Every muscle in her body tensed, her breath came in ragged gasps, and her mind screamed with conflicting desires.
"I'm coming! Oh no, not yet!"
"I'm coming! No, I can't!"
Her inner voice was frantic, a desperate chant of denial.
She was so close to the edge that it felt inevitable, like a tidal wave she couldn't outrun.
Yet, just when she was sure she'd lose control, that same unrelenting force returned to her aid—a strange, inexplicable willpower that kept her teetering on the brink.
Ross, still beneath her, watched her struggle with a quiet, smug satisfaction.
His hands gripped her firmly, keeping her pinned in place as though he had all the time in the world.
His grin was maddening, a silent proclamation of dominance that left her trembling.