Stronger

She digs her nails into his back. Hard. "Mark me," Demi breathes. "Leave something I can feel tomorrow." Manuel doesn't answer with words. He grabs her hips, flips her over, plants her face down on the sheets and drives in from behind. The slap of skin is loud, steady. Each thrust knocks the breath out of her. She pushes back, asking for more, and he gives it. When he pulls out she swings around fast, takes him in her mouth, lips tight, hand working the base. Spit runs down her chin. He groans, hands in her hair, hips moving on their own. She climbs over him next, sits on his face, grinds until her thighs shake. Manuel holds her down, tongue working hard. She cums once, sharp, then again, softer. After that she wants him back inside. He puts her on all fours, grips her throat, fucks her until her voice cracks. She asks for it deeper. He delivers. The room smells like sweat and sex. When he finishes he leaves red lines across her ass and throat. She touches them later, satisfied.