She sprawled out, her charcoal lace bodysuit hiked up, her pale legs spread wide in an effortless invitation. I stripped off the rest of my clothes, my cock standing tall and angry, throbbing with the need to finish what we'd started. I climbed onto the bed, the springs squeaking a protest as I crawled between her thighs.
"You're a bad mother, Delilah," I growled, my hands pinning her wrists above her head against the headboard.
"And you're a very bad friend, Evan," she countered, her hips already arching up to meet me. "Now stop talking and fill me up."
I didn't need to be told twice. I lined myself up and drove home with one singular, violent motion. Delilah let out a muffled scream into the pillows, her back curving into a deep bow as I bottomed out. The friction of the sheets against her skin and the weight of my body crushing her into the mattress created a suffocating, intoxicating heat.
