Kim was still on the floor across the room—legs wide, fingers buried deep inside herself, thumb frantic on her clit. Her bra was pushed up now, one breast spilling out, nipple pinched between her own fingers. She watched with dark, hungry eyes, biting her lip to stay quiet. Every time Carrie moaned or sobbed, Kim's hips bucked a little harder against her hand.
I caught her gaze again and smirked, slow, wicked, then drove even deeper into Carrie, grinding my hips in slow circles once I bottomed out. Carrie cried out, body trembling on the edge of another denied peak.
I fucked her like that for long minutes—relentless, deep, changing nothing but the rhythm: fast and brutal, then slow and grinding, then fast again. Each denial made her more frantic—legs shaking, pussy dripping steadily onto the sheets, ass clenching and fluttering around my cock like it could force the release through willpower alone.
