He pins me to the wall with his hips, hard enough to knock a picture crooked. His mouth takes mine like he owns the tongue that lives there. One hand fumbles my zipper; the other tangles in my hair until my scalp burns. When he yanks my jeans down, the belt buckle smacks my knee. Cold air hits skin. He drags his fingers through the wet mess between my legs, then shoves two inside so quick my knees buckle. I taste blood where my teeth catch my own lip. He works me open with quick, ugly thrusts, knuckles slapping against bone. My breath fogs the glass in front of us. His other hand jerks his own belt free. Leather slaps tile. The second his cock drags hot across my thigh, I push back, greedy, spreading myself open. He slides in on a single, mean stroke that knocks the air out of both of us. Every slam of his body drives my forehead against the cold glass. The lamp in the corner rocks with every thrust. I bite my own wrist to keep from moaning his name. He bites the back of my neck instead, teeth dragging sweat into his tongue. The rhythm turns feral. My shoulders hit drywall. His balls smack skin. We’re loud now. Ugly. Closer. He grabs my throat from behind, forcing my head back while he fucks deeper, harder, like he’s trying to leave fingerprints where no one can see. When I come, my legs shake so bad the glass rattles. He follows, spilling hot inside me, pulse after pulse, still moving until the last twitch drags out of him.
He pins me to the wall with his hips, hard enough to knock a picture crooked. His mouth takes mine like he owns the tongue that lives there. One hand fumbles my zipper; the other tangles in my hair until my scalp burns. When he yanks my jeans down, the belt buckle smacks my knee. Cold air hits skin. He drags his fingers through the wet mess between my legs, then shoves two inside so quick my knees buckle. I taste blood where my teeth catch my own lip. He works me open with quick, ugly thrusts, knuckles slapping against bone. My breath fogs the glass in front of us. His other hand jerks his own belt free. Leather slaps tile. The second his cock drags hot across my thigh, I push back, greedy, spreading myself open. He slides in on a single, mean stroke that knocks the air out of both of us. Every slam of his body drives my forehead against the cold glass. The lamp in the corner rocks with every thrust. I bite my own wrist to keep from moaning his name. He bites the back of my neck instead, teeth dragging sweat into his tongue. The rhythm turns feral. My shoulders hit drywall. His balls smack skin. We’re loud now. Ugly. Closer. He grabs my throat from behind, forcing my head back while he fucks deeper, harder, like he’s trying to leave fingerprints where no one can see. When I come, my legs shake so bad the glass rattles. He follows, spilling hot inside me, pulse after pulse, still moving until the last twitch drags out of him.