Women Seeking Women #32

She pinned his wrists to the silk sheets at the very stroke of midnight—the day those handcuffs first slid across hotel beds and smoked in back alleys back in 2007. His cock jerked as cold steel snapped tight. Her tongue dragged a hot stripe up his throat, teeth grazing the pulse that hammered beneath wet skin. He choked on a moan while she rode the ridge of him in one brutal thrust, taking every inch, walls clenching like fists around steel. Sweat slicked their stomachs as she slammed down, the slap of skin quick and ugly. The sheets tore under his heels. She leaned in, lips at his ear, her breath hot filth: "You’re going to come when I say, not before." He writhed beneath her, cock throbbing, begging for release he wasn’t allowed. Her nails scored his chest; blood beaded along the scratches. He tasted copper when she forced her fingers between his lips. Outside, rain hammered the glass; inside, the mattress springs sang their own filthy rhythm as she ground her clit against him, faster, meaner. When she finally hissed the word, he spilled deep, cock pulsing hard enough to hurt, jaw clenched around her knuckles while thunder cracked like bone above the city.