And then—finally— Brenda felt it.
A slight twitch.
A subtle, involuntary jerk of Ross's hips beneath her hands.
His breathing, so steady until now, hitched ever so slightly.
His hand, resting lazily on his thigh, tensed for just a brief second.
It was small. So small that most would have missed it.
But Brenda didn't.
She sensed it instinctively. A flicker of hope sparked to life inside her battered soul.
He was close.
Ross's composure, so maddeningly unshakable until now, was beginning to show tiny cracks.
The realization gave Brenda new strength.
With renewed fervor, she doubled her efforts—forcing herself even deeper, tightening her lips and throat around his monstrous girth, sucking harder, stroking faster.
Every fiber of her being was focused on one goal: to make him come, to finish him, to end this nightmare.
Ross let out a low, rumbling groan—a sound she hadn't heard from him before.
