The two made love for hours, their passion stretching deep into the night, only stopping when the first light of dawn began creeping through the windows.
By then, the entire house had been thoroughly disturbed—no one could sleep, not with Heaven's moans ringing through every wall.
Her cries were intense, shameless, and loud enough that someone joked it could wake the dead—and get them hard again.
That was how wild she sounded, how lewd her pleasure was.
It was as if she didn't care who heard her, as if she wanted the whole world to know exactly what Ross was doing to her.
And it wasn't just the moans. The bed thumped. The walls rattled.
The walls slammed again and again in a relentless rhythm. It wasn't making love—it was a full-blown sexual storm that consumed everything in its path.
By the time silence finally fell, the house felt like it had just survived an earthquake.
Morning came, but nobody was rested.
