She dropped to her knees like it was her rightful place.

Moonlight slid over her shoulders, down the curve of her back. Her black bra was tight, her breasts pushed up, nipples pressing sharp through fabric. She looked up at him and smiled—quiet, calm, like she’d already decided how this would end.

She didn’t tease.

Her fingers unzipped him, pulled him out, warm hands wrapping around his cock like it belonged there. She leaned in, eyes never leaving his, and took him into her mouth.

Deep.

He gasped, hand flying to her head. She didn’t flinch. She swallowed more.

Her lips sealed. Her throat flexed.

She held him there, buried to the base, then pulled back slowly, tongue dragging. A thick strand of spit followed. She sucked him in again, louder this time, filthier. Wet sounds filled the room. She moaned around him, soft and steady, like she loved what he was doing to her mouth.

He twitched. She squeezed. His legs shook.

“I—”

She sucked harder.

He came fast, broken, helpless. His body locked up. She stayed deep, let it hit her throat, filled her mouth with him. It spilled out—over her lips, her chin, down to her chest.

She didn’t wipe it.

She opened her mouth, showed him the mess, then let it drip from her tongue to the floor.

She rubbed the rest into her skin. Fingers dragging his cum across her breasts. She adjusted her bra with one hand, pushing herself higher, smearing it like perfume.

Then she brought two fingers to her mouth. Sucked them clean. Not for him. For herself.

He stared.

She leaned in closer, still on her knees, face streaked, breath steady.

“You finished too fast,” she whispered.

Then sat back.

Opened her mouth again.

And waited.