Claudie

He walks in like he owns the place and grabs her by the hips, yanking her back until her ass is flush against his crotch. Hana Camp—yeah, that’s the name he gives girls who come here to lose control—grinds back without hesitation. His fingers slide straight between her legs, finding her already wet, already needy. Two thick digits push inside without asking and she gasps, spreading her feet like she’s been waiting for this all day. He works her fast, knuckles bumping her entrance, the wet sounds filthy and loud. She reaches back blindly, nails scraping his thigh, and he just laughs low against her neck. When he pulls his fingers out they’re slick and shiny; he wipes them across her lips so she tastes herself, then shoves inside again, rougher, deeper. She moans around his fingers like she wants to suck them, so he gives her what she’s asking for—lets her lap at his hand while he fucks her open with the other one. They’re not even undressed yet and she’s already trembling, dripping down his wrist like she wants everyone to know she came here to get wrecked.