Unposed

The July heat pressed down on Lena’s shoulders like a lover’s hand, and she kept tugging at the strap of her bridesmaid dress, a thin navy thing that clung to every curve. She’d been watching Marco all evening. He was the photographer’s assistant, all messy black hair and forearms dusted with freckles, and when he caught her staring from across the dance floor, he didn’t look away. He smiled, slow and crooked, and raised his beer bottle in a toast.

“You keep looking at me like that,” he said, appearing beside her at the bar, close enough that she could smell salt and something sharp, like lime. “I’m gonna think you want something.”

Lena laughed, but her pulse was already racing. “Maybe I’m just bored.”

“Liar.” His knuckles brushed her hip, feather-light. “You’ve got that look. The one artists get when they see something they need to touch.”

She turned to face him fully. “And what look is that?”

“Like you’re already undressing me with your eyes.”

She didn’t deny it. The wedding reception was a blur of drunk uncles and tulle, and all she could think about was the way his shirt stretched across his chest. “My room’s upstairs. 214.”

He finished his beer in one long swallow. “Lead the way.”

The hallway was too bright, the carpet too patterned, but she didn’t care. She unlocked the door with shaking hands, and the second it clicked shut behind them, his mouth was on hers, hot and hungry, his palms sliding down her back to cup her ass through the thin fabric.

“Fuck,” he breathed against her neck, pushing her against the door. “I’ve been watching you all night. That dress. The way you move.”

She grabbed his belt, pulling him closer, feeling his cock hard against her thigh. “Then stop talking.”

He laughed, low and rough, and then his hands were under her dress, pushing the navy fabric up her thighs. No panties. He groaned, fingers sliding into her wetness, finding her clit with an expert touch.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice a dark tease. “Were you thinking about this? Out there, with all those people?”

“Yes,” she gasped, hips bucking against his hand. “Now get inside me.”

He didn’t make her wait. He unzipped his jeans, pulled out his cock — thick and hard, the head glistening — and lifted her by the thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he pushed into her in one smooth, deep stroke, filling her completely.

She moaned, head falling back against the door. “God, yes.”

“You feel incredible,” he grunted, fucking her hard and fast, the door rattling against its frame. “Tight. Hot. Like you were made for this.”

She couldn’t answer, could only cling to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he drove into her again and again, each thrust hitting deeper, sending sparks behind her eyes. Her breath came in ragged gasps, sweat slicking her skin.

“I’m close,” she whispered, her voice cracked and desperate.

“Not yet.” He slowed, pulling almost all the way out, then pushing back in with agonizing slowness, grinding his hips against hers. “I want to see you. On the bed.”

He carried her, still inside her, and laid her down on the cheap floral comforter. He pulled out, and she whimpered at the loss, but then he was spreading her legs, positioning her on all fours, his hands gripping her hips.

“Like this,” he said, and slammed back into her from behind.

The angle was perfect, deeper than before, and she buried her face in the pillow, muffling her cries as he fucked her, his balls slapping against her wet pussy, his fingers digging into her flesh. She could feel every inch of him, the stretch and the burn and the pleasure building like a wave.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he growled, his rhythm growing erratic. “Taking my cock. Letting me use you.”

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Don’t stop.”

He reached around, fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles as he kept pounding into her. The wave crashed. She came with a scream, her body shuddering, clenching around him, and he followed a second later, groaning her name as he pumped his cum deep inside her, hot and thick.

They collapsed onto the bed, tangled and breathless. She could feel him softening inside her, could feel his cum leaking down her thigh. He kissed her shoulder, lazy and soft.

“So,” he murmured, “was that just boredom, or do you want to go again?”

She turned her head, grinning. “We’ve got all night.”