Bounty Hunting

Alyssia Bounty kneels on the deck, her mouth sliding down Joel Thomas’s stiff length, lips tight and slick as she works him deeper. Sunlight glints off the water while she keeps her gaze locked on his. She shifts, arching her back, palms spreading her cheeks so he can push in. The first slow thrust stretches her open; each following stroke drives harder, deeper, until the only sound is skin meeting skin. Joel pulls free, shiny with her heat, and Alyssia turns, tongue dragging along every vein until he’s glistening. He grips the base, strokes once, twice, and spills across her waiting tongue.