3am Ecstacy

Back at the hotel, Jessie Andrews and Sovereign Syre peel away the night and drop straight into the tub. Steam climbs the mirror. They’re slick, breathless, fingering each other in long, slow strokes while suds slide over breasts and bellies. Nipples tighten under the slippery heat. They trade mouths, legs parting wider in water that warms with every grind. Soon the tub feels too small. Clothes splash onto tile, hips brushing as they stumble into the bedroom. Sheets bunch under their knees. Jessie spreads Sovereign open first, tongue working flat and insistent, fingers curling just right. Sovereign arches, fingers tangled in hair, panting while Jessie’s mouth learns every pulse and twitch. They switch without ceremony. Sovereign pins Jessie’s thighs, licks deep and messy, sucks Jessie’s clit until her hips buck and her voice breaks. The room smells of soap and heat and wet skin. Bodies twist closer. Fingers circle and thrust until pleasure snaps loose—first one, then the other—sharp and bright and soaking into the sheets in the kind of wild release that leaves them trembling, mouths open, legs still twitching.