Heat. Pressure. Friction. She barely let herself adjust before rising and driving back down with enough force to hurt. The bounce of her breasts was mesmerising, the quick upwards flick of her nipples as she arched backwards, chasing the instinctive rhythm that was just out of reach. He knew she was going too fast, too hard, but she liked that—she  liked  that, he remembered with a jolt, and thrust upwards, matching her speed. 