Road Queen #22

Sophia arched into the sheets, sweat beading along her collarbone. Mark's tongue traced the hollow of her throat, then slid lower, mouth closing over one nipple, sucking hard until it stiffened between his teeth. She let out a soft curse and pushed her hips upward. He answered by slipping two fingers inside her, curling them against the spot that always made her thighs tremble. "Right there," she gasped, nails raking his shoulders. Mark didn't stop. He kept the pace measured, relentless, adding a third finger until she was soaked around him. When he finally took his cock in hand and pressed against her entrance, the air left both their lungs at once. One slow push and he buried himself. The stretch drew a groan from her lips; the clench that followed drew one from his. Mark pinned her wrists above her head, thrusting deep, bodies slapping with every stroke. Sophia locked her ankles at the small of his back, meeting him, taking him. The headboard slammed the wall. No space left between them, only heat, friction, the wet sound of her cunt accepting every inch he gave.