Tan lines from stockings mark her thighs as she straddles him like it’s second nature. Wet lips part over his cock—deep—before she flips onto all fours, ass high in the air. He shoves two fingers inside while one hand grips her hip so hard it bruises. The couch creaks under them both when she finally takes him back to that spot where they both know he’ll fill her up. She pretends not to notice the door handle jiggling but keeps rocking backward anyway, nails digging into the mattress. ‘Fuck,’ he whispers against her shoulder blades just before she screams his name—and not because of pleasure this time.
