Xanthippe made another whimpery sound of protest as his lips left hers, but somehow his words immediately soothed that ache. And not just his words, but his eyes.

Which she was now staring into as she rode him a little roughly and a lot desperately, chasing her release, practically every muscle in her body taut with the strain and the want of it. Her lips were parted, allowing every kind of noise pass through freely: her panting breath, whimpers, gasps. His name.

"Hya, oh God --"

And even though she instinctively wanted to close her eyes, she didn't. Not even when it finally overtook her, midthrust, leaving her pulsing harshly around his dick while her hands grasped his shoulders for support and his name rolled out of her mouth again, this time in a rough moan.