The Stash - Episode 12

The straps bit into her wrists just enough to sting. She tugged against them, and the silk whispered across her skin. He watched her test the bonds, taking his time, eyes moving from her bound hands to the way her chest rose and fell, faster now. His fingers dragged slowly down her stomach, then lower, teasing the slick heat between her thighs. She arched. He withdrew. She swore softly. He smiled at that, slid two fingers into her without warning, and curled them until her whole body jolted. She clenched around him. He pulled out, slick and shining, then replaced the emptiness with the heavy head of his cock. He pressed in inch by inch, stretching her open, watching every tremor run through her. She moaned low in her throat when he bottomed out. He stayed there, buried deep, letting her feel the weight of him before he started to move. Each thrust shoved the air from her lungs. His grip on her hips tightened. She begged, wordless now. He gave her more, driving in harder, deeper, until the slap of skin on skin drowned out everything else.