Women Seeking Women #133

Her back hit the wall the second he kicked the door shut. Silk gathered at her waist as he shoved her dress higher. She hooked her legs around his hips, calves flexing against the back of his thighs, and felt him press forward without grace or pause. The silk corded belt looped twice around her wrists, yanked tight above her head. He drove into her again. Deeper. Her shoulder blades raked the plaster. Sweat dragged across her collarbone when his mouth found it. The belt slid against her pulse, tight enough to keep her still, loose enough to let her fingers brush his hair. He set a rhythm that made the picture frames rattle. Her breath tore in short, raw bursts each time their bodies locked. The damp cotton of his shirt stuck to his stomach, every ridge of muscle beneath brushing her bare belly as he leaned in. She tasted salt when she licked his throat. His hand cupped the underside of her thigh, thumb pressing bruises she would admire later, palm holding her open. He angled up and hit that slick, swollen place again; her spine curved hard, heels dug deeper. He answered with a low, guttural sound that vibrated against her breasts. She tightened around him in return, hips jerking forward to meet each thrust. The cord pinched new skin when she twisted. Pleasure rolled through both of them in tight, repeating shocks. He finished her first: hot pulse inside her, followed by the slow collapse of his weight against her. Breaths tangled. Thighs trembled. The belt stayed knotted, holding her steady while they caught what was left of the air.