Cougar Club L.A. - Episode 8

She stepped onto the runway in the new collection, silk clinging to every curve like it had been cut just for her. The crowd whispered, phones rose, but her eyes scanned the room for one face. Keenan wasn’t supposed to be there yet. When she saw him standing by the bar, glass in hand, that slow smile broke across his face and her stomach dropped. The after-party pulsed around them, but they slipped away fast. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, he pressed her against it. His mouth found her neck first, teeth grazing skin as his hands worked the straps off her shoulders. The lingerie fell away in pieces. She tugged at his belt with both hands, breath catching when he lifted her onto the table. He pushed into her hard enough to knock over a glass. It shattered on the floor but neither of them paused. She locked her legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back while he drove deeper, faster. Sweat slicked between them. Her nails raked down his spine and he groaned into her mouth like he’d been holding that sound for weeks. They didn’t make it to the bed. The carpet burned her knees. She took him in her mouth while he gripped her hair, hips jerking forward. Later he pulled her up, bent her over the chair, and fucked her until her voice cracked. When she came she bit his wrist to stay quiet. He followed seconds later, spilling inside her with a low, broken sound. After, they stayed tangled on the floor, breathing hard, clothes scattered around them like evidence.