Twisted Passions #09

She rode him slow, hips rolling like warm silk over flame. Every muscle in her thighs trembled with control she was losing by the inch. His hands wrapped tight around her waist, thumbs pressing into soft flesh while the rest of him filled her deep, stretching her open with each steady push. Wet heat. Tight friction. The sound of their skin meeting echoed low in the room—soft, rhythmic, filthy. She bit her lip and let her head fall back. Her breasts moved with every thrust, nipples peaked and flushed. He watched them rise and fall, mouth open, breath uneven. Her walls clenched around his cock on purpose. He grunted. She smiled. Then she leaned forward, hands on his chest, grinding her clit against him each time she sank down. Sweat gathered at her collarbones. He licked it clean. He flipped her. Quick. She landed on her back with a gasp and he was on her before air returned. Legs spread wider. Deeper. He slammed in with enough force to make the mattress shift beneath them. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, nails carving thin red lines as he fucked her harder, faster, cock glistening each time it withdrew. She came first—sharp and sudden. Her body locked around him, pulsing tight, and he kept moving through it, driving into the spasms until she cried out and twisted beneath him. He followed with a low, broken sound, buried to the hilt, spilling inside her in thick, pulsing waves. When they stopped, their breathing filled the silence. Bodies slick. Sheets ruined. Neither one moved.