Secret Sessions - Episode 6

She pulled him closer by the waistband of his slacks and pressed her mouth to his, slow at first, then open and wet. Their tongues slid together, hungry. He answered with a low sound in his throat and gripped the back of her neck, tilting her head so he could taste more of her. Her hands moved fast. She yanked his shirt free, palms flat on hot skin, tracing the ridge of muscle that ran down his stomach. Buttons hit the floor. Her dress already lay somewhere behind them. Nothing left but the thin black slip of lace that still clung to her hips. He hooked two fingers under it and tore it away, the fabric giving with a quick snap. She gasped, then laughed, low and throaty. He knelt. Mouth on the inside of her thigh, teeth grazing, tongue following the path upward until he reached the heat between her legs. He licked once, slow and deliberate, then again, firmer, finding the rhythm that made her hips buck and her fingers twist in his hair. She was soaked. He hummed against her and slid two fingers inside, curling them just so. Her head fell back. Her moan filled the dark room. He stood, lifted her onto the table without effort, spread her thighs wide and drove in with one smooth thrust. She clenched around him, tight, pulsing, legs locked at the small of his back. He fucked her hard, hips snapping, skin slapping. She met every stroke, nails raking down his spine, mouth at his ear whispering filthy things that made him groan. Sweat slicked their bodies. He pulled out just long enough to flip her, bent her over the edge, and slammed back inside. The table rocked with them. One hand pinned her wrists above her head, the other slipped between her thighs to rub her clit in tight circles. She came hard, shaking, voice breaking on his name. He followed seconds later, buried deep, teeth on her shoulder, spilling into her with a rough, broken sound. They stayed like that, panting, skin cooling, until he finally slipped free and pulled her into his lap on the floor. Her head rested on his chest. His fingers traced lazy circles on her bare back. Neither spoke. The only sound was the low hum of the city outside the window and the slow, steady beat of their hearts settling back into place.