Her legs were already parted in the invitation. He held her by her thighs and pushed into her hard. It was already torturous enough that she was so horny and ready for it. When he felt how wet she was, it took all his willpower to not pound into her as hard as he wanted to.
She was grasping a handful of the bedsheet beneath her. "I'm not made of glass, Desmond. Fuck me hard." She demanded.
He didn't need to ask if she could take it. He sped up, thrusting his hips harder and faster until all that could be heard was the sounds of their skins slapping against each other and the slamming of the bed against the wall. He was certain they would need to refill a dent in the wall before they left but he didn't care. Neither of them did.
He reached between her legs, rubbing her sensitive spot in time with his thrusts. Her toes curled and he knew from the drawled-out moan that left her lips that she was close.
