Ren released her waist, reaching up to cup her breasts. His broad palms squeezed the soft flesh firmly, thumbs grazing her stiff nipples while he maintained a relentless pace.
"Ahhh! Mhnnn!" Maki's composure broke, the raw sounds of her pleasure filling the room. Her head fell back against the pillows, her chest rising and falling in jagged breaths as she ground her hips back to meet every strike.
The textured condom caught against her sensitive walls, sending waves of friction straight to her core. The slapping sounds grew louder and faster as Ren lost himself in the sensation of her body yielding around him.
The intensity pushed Ren over the edge. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt. Maki's muscles spasmed violently around him as he came, his heat flooding the tip of the latex.
Panting, Ren withdrew with a slick, muffled pop. He sat back, quickly disposing of the used condom before tearing into a fresh foil packet. He rolled the new layer down his pulsing length, the movement efficient and practiced.
Maki lay flushed and damp, her skin shimmering in the low light.
"Don't get too comfortable, boss," Ren rumbled, his voice low and gravelly. "Turn over. On your knees."
Maki let out a soft whine but obeyed. Her limbs trembled as she pushed herself up, arching her back. Her hips remained elevated, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.
Ren moved behind her, his hands heavy anchors on her waist. He lined himself up and drove home in one fluid motion, filling her entirely.
"Ahhh! Ren!" Maki gasped, her elbows giving way until her chest pressed into the bedding. The angle forced him deeper, stretching her with every lunge.
He established a punishing rhythm, pulling her hips back to meet his thighs. The echo of skin hitting skin filled the space. Ren leaned over her, one hand migrating forward to possess her heaving chest while the other kept a white-knuckled grip on her hip.
"Not quite so tough now, are you?" he teased with a breathless huff.
"Shut up and focus, idiot," Maki snapped. The command was undercut by the hitch in her voice and the feverish color in her cheeks. Her fingers clawed at the sheets, a desperate attempt to anchor herself.
"Right. Focusing," Ren murmured, a smirk playing on his lips.
He abandoned the steady pace for a more aggressive, driving force. The shift shattered Maki's remaining defenses. Her eyes squeezed shut, her sharp tongue replaced by frantic, wordless cries as he pushed her toward the brink.
Her internal muscles began to pulse rhythmically, milking him as she reached a second climax. The sensation triggered Ren's own release; he groaned, thrusting deep and holding himself there as he peaked.
Through the thin barrier, Maki felt the radiating warmth of his pulse.
The red numbers of the digital clock clicked to 2:14 AM.
In Room 402, the atmosphere was a stark contrast.
Yuka lay flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was a lost cause, evidenced by the rhythmic thudding vibrating through her headboard. The cheap drywall did little to mask the squeak of mattress springs or the muffled, high-pitched cries from next door.
Yuka turned her head slowly.
Kenji was sprawled on his stomach, snoring softly into a pillow dampened by a bit of drool. He had tapped out after a single, energetic, yet unremarkable six-minute effort at 10:30 PM.
The wall shook again as the tempo in 401 reached a frantic crescendo. A low, masculine growl bled through the plaster, followed by a final, wet impact.
Yuka's eye twitched. She grabbed her phone, the glow highlighting her flat expression. 2:16 AM.
"Are you kidding me?" she whispered, her voice thick with annoyance and a sharp pang of envy.
She shot a glare at the oblivious Kenji and kicked his shin. He simply grunted, burrowing deeper into the duvet. Yuka sighed, smothered her face with a pillow, and tried to block out the silence that was somehow worse than the noise.