They stumbled out of the club, leaving the thumping bass behind. The night air in Cleveland was surprisingly crisp, a cool breeze coming off Lake Erie.
Margot shivered instantly, rubbing her bare arms. "You cold?" Donovan asked, noticing the goosebumps on her skin.
"A little bit," she admitted.
Without hesitation, Donovan peeled off his hoodie and draped it over her shoulders.
"Seriously?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Yeah," Donovan said.
"Come on," she teased, pulling the lapels tight. "I'm already going to sleep with you. You don't have to use your usual tricks to pick up women."
"What tricks?" Donovan asked, feigning innocence.
"Oh come on," she scoffed. "You seem way too experienced at this sort of thing. You weren't nervous, and you just seem like the type to sleep around."
It wasn't a wrong assumption. If anything, she hit the nail on the head.
He was a divorced NBA superstar; the lifestyle came with the territory.
"And that doesn't bother you?" Donovan asked curiously.
"Not tonight," she said honestly. "I just want simple."
"Good," Donovan nodded. "Because complicated isn't what I want. I want simple too."
"You're clean, right?" she asked suddenly, stopping on the sidewalk.
"Yeah, I'm clean," Donovan assured her. "I get tested more than a lab rat."
"Good."
"And I'm just trying to sweeten the pot," Donovan added, gesturing to the jacket.
"The pot's sweet enough," she smiled.
"I'm just being nice," Donovan said. "I don't want you getting cold feet."
"Fine," she relented.
Margot put her arms through the sleeves. The jacket was comical on her. It engulfed her frame, the hem coming down to her knees like a trench coat.
"This thing is huge," she laughed, flapping the sleeves that extended inches past her hands.
"That's not the only thing that's huge," Donovan muttered.
"Seriously?" she deadpanned.
"I'm talking about my appetite," Donovan said quickly, grinning.
"Really?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, what did you think I was talking about?"
"Nothing," she smirked. "You want to grab a bite before we... you know? I'm famished."
"Sure, I guess," Donovan said. The alcohol had triggered a massive hunger.
"I'll pay for it as thanks for covering my tab," she offered.
"You're going to regret that," Donovan warned.
They spotted the golden arches of a McDonald's down the block. It was surreal. The Finals MVP and one of Hollywood's biggest stars, walking into a 24-hour fast-food joint at 3 AM.
The cashier, a teenager with acne and a tired expression, looked like he wanted his shift to end. He didn't even look up as they approached.
Margot ordered a cheeseburger and fries. Donovan ordered... everything. Four McChickens, two Big Macs, large fries, a milkshake, and an apple pie.
"Seriously?" Margot asked as the cashier handed over multiple bags.
"I got a big appetite," Donovan defended himself as they sat in a plastic booth. "I got to keep a tight 260."
"I thought during the off-season, you could relax a bit," she said, unwrapping her burger. "You know, eat what you want."
"Nah, I'm competitive," Donovan said, taking a massive bite of a Big Mac. "I still got work hard during the off-season. I didn't know you were so competitive as well. That drinking contest was impressive."
"I grew up on my grandparents' farm," Margot revealed, dipping a fry in ketchup.
"I didn't know that," Donovan said, genuinely interested.
"Yeah, it was fun but it was a lot of work. You learn to be tough," she said.
"I know I have a horse," Donovan blurted out.
"You have a horse?" she laughed, nearly choking.
"I know," Donovan chuckled. "This Serbian guy I know, Jokic, talked me into it. I got a stable and everything. I don't ride it much, but I got it."
"Maybe we should go sometime," she suggested softly.
"Maybe," Donovan agreed.
"You didn't really answer my question though," Donovan said, finishing his first burger. "You must have played some kind of sport growing up? You got that athlete mentality."
"I played a lot, mainly Field hockey," she said.
"I didn't know you had ice in Australia?" Donovan joked, dodging a fry she threw at him.
Margot swatted his shoulder. "It's not that warm over there! And it's field hockey. We played on an actual field."
"Sounds interesting," Donovan mused. "You watch hockey over here?"
"Yeah, the Rangers?" she asked.
"New York Rangers? They play in the Garden," Donovan nodded approval.
"Yeah, I've been to a few games."
"It's always fun playing in my city," Donovan said wistfully.
"You're from New York?" Margot asked.
"Yeah, born and bred," Donovan said proudly.
"What part?"
"Oh, you wouldn't know," Donovan waved a hand. "It's East Harlem. It's like the evil side of Manhattan pretty much. I rather not talk about it. It wasn't... easy."
"Sorry for bringing it up," she said gently.
"It's fine," Donovan said, grabbing a McChicken. "Let's just say it made me the competitor I am today."
"Well, I got to be competitive for my roles so it's always helped me out," Margot said. She watched him eat, a look of fascination and desire in her eyes. "You ready to go?"
"Yeah"
The walk back to the Ritz-Carlton was a blur of neon streetlights and cool Lake Erie wind. The adrenaline from the game had faded, replaced by the heavy, warm buzz of the alcohol and the McChickens sitting in Donovan's stomach.
But beneath that lethargy was a buzzing wire of anticipation. Every time Margot's arm brushed against his, the contact felt electric.
She looked almost comical in his hoodie the sleeves swallowing her hands, the hem hitting her knees, but to Donovan, she looked incredible.
They moved through the hotel lobby with heads down, Donovan offering a curt nod to the night concierge who knew better than to ask for an autograph at 3:30 AM.
He would get him later in the day.
The elevator ride was a study in tension.
They stood on opposite sides of the car, watching the floor numbers tick upward in agonizingly slow LED red.
15. 20. Neither spoke, but the air between them was thick enough to choke on. Donovan could hear her breathing, slightly shallow, and he could feel his own heart hammering against his ribs, a different rhythm than the one he felt on the court.
The elevator chimed, the sound deafening in the silence. They walked down the plush carpet of the hallway, Donovan fishing the key card from his pocket. His hands, usually so steady when releasing a basketball, fumbled slightly before the light on the lock turned green.
He pushed the door open, ushering her in.
As soon as the heavy door clicked shut, sealing them off from the world, the dam broke. There was no conversation, no awkward transition.
Margot spun around, shedding the oversized jacket in a single motion, and lunged at him. Donovan met her halfway.
Their mouths fused in a brutal, starving clash, far from any tender movie kiss—more a frenzy of clashing teeth and probing tongues.
Donovan had to stoop low, arching his tall frame to align with her shorter stature, his back curving uncomfortably, but the discomfort vanished under the fire raging between them.
He consumed her mouth, savoring the salty remnants of fries mingled with the fruity tang of schnapps on her tongue.
Her fingers knotted into his shirt fabric, yanking him downward with surprising force, while his palms cradled the nape of her neck, anchoring her as the kiss turned sloppier, wetter, more desperate, saliva slicking their lips and chins.
Donovan's hands drifted lower, palms cupping the rounded swell of her ass through the snug leggings, squeezing the firm muscle beneath.
With a low growl, he lifted her clean off the floor, her legs instinctively locking around his hips as a startled squeal bubbled from her throat, morphing into a delighted laugh muffled against his lips.
Margot eased back a fraction, her cheeks flushed, eyes dancing with playful fire. "What a forward young man you are," she purred, her words laced with teasing breathlessness, fingers tracing his jawline.
Donovan grinned, shifting his grip to support her weight more securely, her lightness no challenge for his athlete's build. "It was hurting my neck," he replied, voice rough with want, a hint of humor cutting through. "You want to be put down?"
She squeezed her thighs tighter, shaking her head with a sly smile, diving back in. "This is fine," she whispered, her mouth claiming his once more in a heated press.
Freed from the awkward bend, their kiss exploded into full throttle.
Margot's arms encircled his neck, drawing him impossibly closer as their tongues dueled in fervent sweeps, slick and insistent.
Donovan's tongue delved deeper, mapping the soft cavern of her mouth, the blend of flavors—greasy savoriness and boozy sweetness—igniting his senses.
She matched him stroke for stroke, her tongue curling around his in slippery tangles that left trails of spit glistening on their skin. He pressed her back against the wall by the entrance, the thud reverberating through them, stoking the blaze higher.
A soft moan vibrated from her chest into his, the sound arrowing straight to his groin, his erection straining against the confines of his pants.
His fingers dug into her backside, massaging the pliant flesh, hauling her flush against the rigid line of his arousal.
Margot rocked her hips forward on instinct, the grind eliciting a sharp hiss from him, pleasure sparking along his nerves.
Donovan pulled away for a split second to graze his teeth over her plump lower lip, tugging it gently before releasing and plunging back in, their breaths coming in shared, ragged bursts.
Her hands wove into his short hair, nails scraping his scalp in light tugs that urged him deeper.
Lips smacked audibly, the wet smacks punctuating the quiet room, an occasional bump of teeth adding to the raw urgency.
The suite seemed to tilt around them, reality shrinking to the crush of her body molding to his, the escalating ache demanding release.
With his neck no longer protesting, Donovan feasted on her fully, his light stubble rasping against her smooth chin as he angled for better access, tilting to one side then the other.
She tasted of victory, of the thrill he'd chased all night on the court now channeled into this woman in his arms.
Time dissolved in the haze of their locked mouths, bodies swaying in a teasing rhythm, the prelude to unraveling each other completely, until the pressure bordered on agony.
Panting, they finally separated, foreheads touching, eyes locked in shared hunger.
Margot's fingers clawed at the edge of his shirt, hauling it upward and off in a whirlwind of cotton and shared chuckles.
Donovan reciprocated swiftly, his broad hands shoving her tank top high, baring her braless chest—full, pert breasts spilling free, nipples already pebbled in the cool air.
A deep rumble escaped his throat at the view, and he dipped his head to latch onto one rosy bud, drawing it between his lips with a firm suck that made her bow into him.
"Shit, Margot," he breathed against the damp skin, teeth nipping the tender tip before soothing with his tongue.
She wriggled in his hold, her own hands attacking his belt, the buckle's metallic jangle slicing the air. "Get it off—everything," she commanded, tone husky with command wrapped in playfulness.
Donovan lowered her feet to the floor just long enough to toe off his sneakers, then gripped his waistband, yanking down pants and underwear together.
They tangled at his ankles briefly before he kicked them away, his heavy cock bouncing out, thick and upright, the shaft veined and flushed, tip already weeping.
Margot's gaze dropped, lips curving into a wicked smile as she drank in the sight. "You weren't kidding," she murmured, awe threading her excitement, her hand extending to encircle the base.
Her palm closed around Donovan's length, the heat of him searing her skin as she dragged her fist upward in a languid pull, thumb swiping over the slick head to spread the pre-cum.
He sucked in a sharp breath, the direct contact after all the teasing nearly buckling his knees.
Still propped against him, she sank a bit lower, her free hand cradling his sac, thumb and fingers gently kneading the heavy orbs.
The velvety skin slid under her touch, taut over the firm weight, and she pumped steadily, feeling him throb in response.
Donovan's eyes squeezed shut, a guttural sound tearing from his chest as she rotated her wrist at the crown, the added twist sending fire licking up his spine.
"Fuck," he ground out, pelvis jerking forward into her rhythm.
Margot studied his reactions, thrilled by the tension coiling in his features—the clenched jaw, the parted lips gasping air.
She accelerated, strokes turning erratic and wet, drawing from the gloss of their earlier kisses; she even hawked a quick spit onto the head for smoother glide, the droplet trickling down to ease her motions.
Lewd schlicks echoed softly, heightening the intimacy. His core muscles rippled visibly, the definition from endless drills flexing with each pass of her hand.
Fingertip tracing a prominent ridge, she clamped at the root, eliciting a string of curses that made her core clench. "So responsive," she cooed, bending to press a kiss to the flushed tip, tongue darting out to lap the salty bead there.
Donovan's fingers knotted in her tousled hair, steadying rather than forcing, as she lavished attention on him—alternating feather-light caresses with powerful yanks that had him teetering on release.
His respiration grew labored, torso expanding with each inhale, the coiling heat in his belly demanding more, yet her expert control kept him hovering, savoring every drawn-out second of torment and bliss.
Margot let go with a lingering squeeze, rising to peel away her leggings and underwear, the fabric whispering down her legs before she flung them aside.
She retreated toward the expansive king bed dominating the suite, the air-conditioned chill prickling her exposed skin into gooseflesh.
Donovan trailed her, his erection swaying with his strides, gaze riveted to her form. Perching on the mattress edge, she reclined, parting her thighs in bold offering.
Her pussy gleamed with readiness, outer lips puffy and parted slightly, inner folds slick and rosy, the nub at the top engorged and sensitive.
From Donovan's perspective, the exposure was hypnotic—her legs splayed, revealing the dripping invitation that quivered faintly.
He dropped to his knees between them, palms on her inner thighs, urging them wider still. "Dripping for me already," he rasped, desire thickening his words, a finger ghosting along her skin toward the source.
Margot's pulse raced as she held his stare, the openness amplifying every nerve ending's hum. Through her eyes, Donovan towered, his powerful physique eclipsing the light, his rigid member pointing insistently.
She snaked a hand down, seizing his shaft once more, aligning the broad crown with her core. "Get inside," she urged, voice a sultry plea, sliding him through her wetness, the drag over her clit drawing a sharp inhale.
Donovan moaned at the enveloping warmth, her juices painting his tip, promising depths untold.
He shifted forward, elbows framing her head, their breaths mingling hotly. Margot notched him at her entrance, the firm nudge against her opening sparking anticipation.
Deliberately, she lifted her pelvis, drawing him in gradually.
The initial breach stretched her wide, his thickness forcing her walls to yield, a delicious ache blooming as she accommodated him. In her mind, it was overwhelming fullness, tissues fluttering to grip the invading heat, pleasure edging the burn.
"Yes, just like that," she sighed, lashes fluttering before refocusing on his intense gaze.
Donovan savored the incremental swallow of her body around him, the snug channel resisting yet welcoming, her lubrication easing the way while her tightness challenged.
Inch by inch, he advanced, monitoring her expressions for any wince, but she only vocalized encouragement, her nails pressing crescents into his biceps.
Midway embedded, he halted, granting her time to adapt, the pulsing clasp nearly undoing him. "So damn tight," he uttered, claiming her lips in a searing kiss.
Margot countered by undulating her hips, engulfing more, the unhurried invasion prolonging the ecstasy.
From above, he glimpsed their union—her entrance taut around his girth, arousal sheening his progress.
She manoeuvred the final length, a mutual exhale as he seated fully, his sac nestling against her rear.
For Margot, the completion was euphoric—every inch filled, his pulse echoing inside her, igniting distant nerves into fireworks.
Donovan remained motionless, absorbing the rhythmic squeezes, a blend of primal urge and affectionate warmth from their banter flooding him.
"Perfect fit," he murmured, initiating a tentative rock to gauge her, the motion drawing a pleased hum from her throat.
Her limbs coiled around his waist, urging deeper, the gradual joining blossoming into anticipation of chaos.
Bottomed out, Donovan withdrew partially, the drag sparking friction that made Margot keen, before driving home with a forceful snap, flesh meeting flesh in a resonant smack.
She arched, the abrupt fullness wrenching a cry from her, her inner muscles clamping down greedily.
They synced into a haphazard cadence at first—Donovan's drives uneven from the intoxicating grip, Margot's rises erratic, occasionally overshooting to mash their groins in slippery grinds.
Sweat beaded at his forehead, a drop landing on her collarbone as he hammered away, the mattress groaning in protest.
Through Donovan's lens, her chest heaved with each plunge, peaks tightening further; he bent to engulf one in his mouth, laving the areola with broad swipes while thrusting.
The tang of her sweat mingled with his spit, and he muttered, "Taking every inch like a champ," his digits bruising her hip to tilt her for optimal penetration, burying deeper still.
She gushed around him, the audible slurp of his length spearing her depths vulgar and arousing, her essence slicking his thighs and pendulous balls.
Margot's reality funneled to the relentless in-and-out, each withdrawal leaving her hollow, each return stuffing her anew with electric bliss. Her claws scored his shoulders, urging ferocity as she countered upward, seeking the rub of his base against her bundle.
"Faster, Donovan—give it to me," she pleaded, tone fracturing into whimpers.
The disarray excited her—the time his shaft slipped free, glossy and veined, only for her to seize and realign him, their shared laughter breathless amid the lust.
A torrent of feeling washed over her: the vulnerability in his locked eyes, the lingering fun even in this carnal storm. Climax ambushed her, muscles convulsing in waves that milked him, a high-pitched keen ripping free as her vision whited out, limbs locking rigid.
Donovan sensed the onslaught, her channel vise-tightening around his buried cock, hurtling him toward oblivion. He moderated to a deep grind, circling to extend her peak, cooing, "Ride it out—squeeze me dry."
The aftershocks proved too potent; with a primal snarl, he rooted deep, shaft jerking as he jetted ropes of seed into her, the heat blooming within.
Margot registered the flood, the warmth triggering a secondary crest, her frame quaking under him in residual tremors.
They slumped, heaving, but the embers glowed on.
Donovan maneuvered them fluidly, her atop him now, palms on his pecs as he directed her descents, her body engulfing him in wet slides.
Her quads protested the effort, motions choppy, but the dominance thrilled—she rotated her pelvis to scrape her sweet spot, while he bucked upward, his sac tapping her backside rhythmically. "Riding me looks filthy good," he praised, digits flicking her swollen pearl, jolting her with fresh sparks.
From Margot's vantage, the reversal empowered, his pole impaling her from beneath, the perspective letting her dictate pace and depth.
She folded forward, mounds dangling for his mouth, and he seized one, teeth grazing as she undulated.
The air thickened with their mingled aromas—earthy musk, salty exertion—the linens twisting about their calves.
Another summit built swiftly; she shattered atop him, fluids cascading to drench his groin as she wailed, torso seizing.
Midway through her throes, Donovan heaved, flipping her prone, legs hiked over his shoulders to compact her, railing with abandon.
The fold allowed unprecedented reach, his tip battering her cervix lightly, pressure mounting exponentially. "Close again—fuck," she gasped, hand diving to her clit, rubbing in frantic loops.
He observed, entranced, her self-touch amid his invasions tipping him; he surged forward, emptying another load, semen churning with her slickness, oozing out with his retreats.
Disentangling briefly, they repositioned with urgency—Margot on hands and knees, Donovan at her rear, thumbs parting her globes as he aligned and thrust, the angle letting him observe his cock vanish into her.
She shoved back, syncing their pace, the impacts sharp and steadying into a primal beat, though fatigue lent a sloppy edge.
His hand snaked around to pinch her clit, rolling it as he plowed, drawing sobs from her.
From his view, her rear jiggled enticingly, entrance fluttering visibly around his girth. Trust deepened in this pose—her yielding form, the light swat to her flank eliciting a throaty laugh-moan.
She peaked with a gush, essence spraying lightly onto the sheets, and Donovan withdrew to paint her spine with his release, pearly strands cooling before he re-entered, pursuing a fresh deposit within her clenching heat.
Shifting laterally, they spooned, Donovan's arm pillowing her head, the other delving between her thighs to strum her nub as he slotted in from behind.
Pace mellowed to languid rolls, intimate and probing, bodies adhered in a sheen of fluids.
Margot twisted to capture his mouth, murmuring, "Love how you fill me here."
He nipped her earlobe, hips circling to stir her depths. Her release washed gentle this round, a prolonged quiver, and he pulsed after, spilling softly into the messy union.
Panting, she spun to face him, descending to envelop his softening member in her mouth, lips stretching around the cum-smeared length, throat working to coax revival. Gags punctuated the slurps, drool spilling, but soon he stiffened anew under her ministrations.
Revived, he drew her up for reverse cowgirl, her back to his chest as she impaled herself, the descent slow to savor the stretch.
Donovan's palms kneaded her cheeks, spreading to watch the lewd swallow, the visual spurring his upward snaps.
She leaned back against him, one hand bracing his thigh, the other teasing her front.
The orientation grazed new walls, climax cresting rapid; she sobbed through it, slumping, but he anchored her, pistoning until his own eruption, overflow trickling down his length.
Not sated, Donovan sat up against the headboard, pulling Margot onto his lap facing him, legs bracketing his hips as she sank down, their chests pressing.
This lotus-like hold allowed deep, grinding rocks, faces close for whispered endearments amid kisses.
"You're everything," he breathed, hands roaming her back as she circled, clit grinding his base. Emotions peaked with the physical—affection weaving through lust—and she came with tears pricking, him following in synchronized bliss, seed mixing anew.
Rising energy led to standing, Donovan lifting her against the wall, legs wrapped as he bounced her on his shaft, the vertical angle intense, gravity aiding each drop.
Walls scraped her back, but the fullness overrode; she bit his shoulder through her cries, orgasming with legs trembling, him grunting release against her neck.
Back to the bed for doggy variation—her chest down, ass up, Donovan kneeling to thrust, one hand fisting her hair lightly, the other spanking in rhythm.
The pull added edge, her peaks sharper, his loads freer-flowing.
They tried prone bone, her flat on her stomach, him covering, the compression tightening her impossibly, slow drags turning frantic.
Spoon again, but with his leg hooked over hers for leverage, pounding sideways.
Missionary evolved into her ankles on his shoulders, folding deep; then butterfly, her hips at the edge, him standing to drive.
Each shift brought fresh waves—her on top facing away, ass bouncing; him behind in standing doggy against the window, city lights blurring below.
Cowgirl with her leaning back, hands on his knees for leverage; then Amazon, her atop but him sitting up, mutual thrusts.
Side-saddle, her leg over his hip; then victory, her balanced on his thighs facing away.
The marathon blurred positions into a haze of sweat, cries, and releases—countless for both, bodies marked with bites, scratches, fluids everywhere.
As the hours dragged on, the alcohol's haze deepened their sloppiness, limbs heavier with exhaustion, but the drive persisted in fits and starts.
Finally, they collapsed into missionary one last time, Donovan hovering over Margot, his forearms bracketing her head, their sweat-slicked skin sticking where it touched.
His cock, still semi-hard from the relentless night, nudged against her entrance, slick with layers of their mixed releases—cum and her arousal creating a messy lubricant that squelched as he pushed in slowly, the penetration lazy and uncoordinated.
Margot's legs wrapped loosely around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back without much force, her body too drained to lock tight. "One more... please," she mumbled, her voice thick with booze and fatigue, eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at him.
The room spun faintly for her, the neon glow from the window casting erratic shadows that danced with her blurring vision.
Donovan nodded, his own head heavy, breaths coming in labored puffs as he sank deeper, her pussy welcoming him with a loose, wet grip—walls fluttering weakly around his shaft, no longer the vise-like hold from earlier but a sloppy, yielding warmth that enveloped him completely.
He started thrusting, but the motions were erratic, hips jerking forward in uneven snaps rather than the powerful drives of before.
Sometimes he'd pull out too far, his cock slipping free entirely, glistening with their combined fluids, and he'd fumble to line up again, both of them chuckling breathlessly through the haze.
"Slippery mess," Donovan slurred, his words tumbling out slow, one hand bracing on the mattress while the other pawed at her breast, squeezing clumsily, thumb missing the nipple on the first few tries before finding it and rubbing in lazy circles.
Margot giggled, the sound turning into a hiccup, her hands roaming his back but nails barely scratching, more like soft drags as tiredness pulled at her muscles.
From her perspective, the fullness was comforting now, less intense but soothing, his thick length stirring the cum already pooled inside her, creating obscene wet sounds with each sloppy push—schlick, schlick, the noise amplified in the quiet room.
She tilted her hips up haphazardly, missing the rhythm half the time, their groins bumping awkwardly instead of grinding perfectly.
"Feels... good, keep going," she whispered, pulling him down for a kiss that was more of a messy clash, tongues lolling lazily, spit trailing from the corners of their mouths as they panted into each other.
The alcohol made everything feel distant yet amplified, her clit throbbing dully when his base nudged it by accident, sending lazy sparks through her core.
Donovan's view was a blur of her flushed face, hair matted to her forehead, lips swollen and shiny.
He drove in again, but his elbow buckled slightly, causing him to dip forward and nearly crush her, both laughing as he caught himself.
"Sorry, babe... tired," he admitted, voice gravelly, resuming with slower, deeper rolls of his hips, his balls dragging heavily against her ass, smearing more of the sticky mess.
Sweat dripped from his brow onto her chest, mixing with the drying trails of earlier releases, and he leaned down to lick sloppily at her neck, missing the spot he aimed for and leaving a wet streak across her collarbone.
Her pussy clenched sporadically around him, not in powerful spasms but tired flutters, pulling a low groan from his throat as the sensation built sluggishly in his gut.
They shifted slightly without fully changing positions—Margot's leg slipping off his hip to splay wide, opening her more, while Donovan hooked an arm under her knee to pull it back up, the adjustment clumsy and taking a few tries.
His thrusts grew even more disjointed, pausing mid-motion as waves of exhaustion hit, his cock twitching inside her without moving, drawing soft whimpers from Margot.
She reached down between them, fingers fumbling to find her clit, rubbing in uneven strokes, her hand bumping his shaft awkwardly on the upstroke.
"Almost... there," she breathed, eyes fluttering shut, body arching feebly as a slow-building orgasm crept up, her walls quivering around him in lazy pulses.
Donovan felt it too, the subtle tightening urging him on despite the leaden weight in his limbs. He picked up a ragged pace, hips slapping against hers with wet, uneven smacks, the bed creaking sporadically as his energy waned. "Gonna cum... with you," he grunted, forehead pressing to hers, their breaths mingling in hot, boozy exhales.
The climax hit her first, a tired shudder rippling through her frame, pussy spasming softly, milking him with weak contractions that finally tipped him over.
His cock pulsed erratically, spilling thin ropes of cum into her, less forceful than before but warm and satisfying, overflowing to trickle down her crack as he kept rocking shallowly through it.
They didn't pull apart immediately; Donovan stayed buried, both too spent to move, his weight settling half on her as their heartbeats slowed.
Margot's fingers traced idle patterns on his back, her touches feather-light, while he nuzzled into her neck, planting sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that left damp spots.
"That was... intense," she murmured, voice fading into a yawn, the alcohol and exertion pulling her toward sleep. Donovan hummed agreement, his cock softening inside her, the messy union a testament to their night.
As dawn's first light filtered through the curtains, they drifted off tangled together, bodies sticky and sated, the world outside forgotten in their deep, restorative slumber.