My p***y was still pulsing, dripping wet from the orgasm Marcus ripped out of me. The poker table’s rough felt scratched my t**s, my ass stinging red from his spanks. The casino’s hum seeped through the walls, a reminder we weren’t alone.
Marcus’s fingers stayed between my thighs, teasing my soaked folds. I was a mess—sweat, c*m, and whiskey fumes mixing in the air. My thong hung around my ankles, useless, my body begging for more.
“You’re f*****g drenched,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. His hand slid up, smearing my juices across my ass. I moaned, my hips bucking, ready for whatever he’d give.
He stepped back, and I heard the clink of his belt hitting the floor. My pulse spiked, knowing his c**k was free, hard, and ready. I glanced over my shoulder, catching the thick outline
