Asian Fucking Nation #02, Scene #06

I spot her across the room, that killer curve hugging her hips like it owns the place. She's got that look—hungry, ready to pounce. I saunter over, flashing my best grin, the one that says I know exactly what you're thinking. Her hand slides up my chest, fingers teasing the buttons open one by one. Damn, she's bold. I grab her waist, pull her close, our bodies grinding like we can't wait another second. Lips crash together, hot and messy, tongues dancing in that perfect, filthy rhythm. She whispers something dirty in my ear, and hell, I'm done for. Clothes hit the floor fast—shirt ripped off, skirt hiked up, no time for games. I pin her against the wall, thrusting deep, her moans echoing like music I wanna hear all night. Sweat slicks our skin, breaths ragged, building to that wild, shuddering peak where nothing else exists but us, tangled and spent.