I hooked my fingers around her left ankle mid-ride, grip locking like iron around slick, trembling skin, and yanked her leg high in one savage pull.
Her knee bent sharp, thigh quivering uncontrollably as I forced her foot over my shoulder and slammed it against the sofa backrest. The leather groaned under the impact, a deep, wet creak vibrating through the frame.
Cool air rushed between her spread thighs, brushing her exposed pussy—lips already swollen and parted, inner folds glistening deep pink under the shifting neon, slick cream coating every crease.
A thick drop of her arousal broke free, trailing slow and hot down the inside of her thigh before falling onto my chest.
Both hands clamped her waist, fingers sinking deep into soft, yielding flesh, nails carving angry red crescents that welled tiny beads of blood under the colored lights.
