But the greatest sound she made came after he had finally entered her, his own groans joining hers as he thrust within her, overwhelmed by all the sensations. The feeling of her wrapped around him, the smell of her skin and her sex hanging in the air. Of her slick and fevered skin on his own, the sweet taste of her mouth. Like apples, ripe and juicy and perfectly tart so that it snapped on the tongue. It was too much, and when she moaned out his name, the letters and sounds of it separated as she stammered through it over her pleasure, he could no longer hold back.