I help her, grab her ass and move her, work her up and down. “Yes. Just like that,” I murmur. She looks at me, dazed, eyes glossy with need.
“Is it good?” she pants, lips kiss-swollen, mouth parted for air.
I kiss her, brief and greedy. “Yes, Zayka. You’re doing so f*****g well. Move faster.”
Her legs tremble. I hold her up, steady her, even as her body wants to go wild. She wants to ride harder, faster, but if I flip her around and start pounding into her, it’ll be obvious what we’re doing in this booth.
Right now, we just look like we’re kissing.
But if I lose control, if I f**k her the way I want to, they’ll all hear.
I don’t care. But she will. Claire, sober again, ducking her face in embarrassment,
The image makes me smile.
But I’m burning up. So I meet her thrusts, pushing u
