Lights, Camera, Play - Episode 2

She steps into frame and the air shifts. Black lace clings to her skin like it was painted on, straps cutting across hips and ribs. The camera drinks her in—every curve, every breath. He watches from the edge of the bed, already hard, eyes locked where the light hits the sheer fabric between her legs. She crosses to him, slow, deliberate. When she climbs into his lap the lace rides up, and his hands find the heat beneath it. She grinds down, the thin barrier between them slicking instantly. He groans into her neck and she answers with a low, hungry sound that vibrates against his mouth. Fingers hook the lace aside. He pushes inside her in one smooth thrust, and she takes every inch like she’s been waiting for it. Their rhythm turns greedy—her nails digging into his shoulders, his grip bruising her thighs, skin slapping wet against skin. She rides him hard, chasing the edge until her thighs shake and her voice breaks around his name. He flips her, presses her down, fucks her deeper. The lace stays on, twisted and damp, rubbing against her clit with every stroke until she comes hard, pulsing around him. He follows right after, spilling deep while her legs lock tight around his waist.