Playmate

Presley bent Lea over the marble vanity. He pushed inside her in one stroke and she braced against the mirror. Their eyes met in the glass, her mouth open, flushed and dazed. He gripped her hips and drove deeper, slow, deliberate, until her nails left streaks on the glass. She reached back and found his thigh, urging him harder. Sweat gathered at the small of her back. Each thrust pulled a sound from her that ran up his spine. He watched her breasts sway in rhythm, the motion perfect. When he changed the angle she came hard, trembling against the stone, but he kept fucking her through it until she came again, sharper this time, gasping his name. Only then did he let go, fingers digging in as he filled her.