Coyote began to increase the pace of his thrusts gradually. He lifted her legs, placing them on his shoulders, adjusting the angle so he could drive into her deeper, smoother. Isabella's southie was dripping like a faucet, soaking the couch beneath them as she writhed beneath him, trying to match his rhythm.
And then Coyote started slamming into her with ferocious intensity.
Isabella's head tilted back, her eyes rolling like someone losing control, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. Coyote reached down and wrapped a hand lightly around her neck, applying just enough pressure to make her feel his dominance.
"Look at me, gorgeous. Look at me while I am doing you," Coyote said, his tone authoritative, commanding.
He slammed into her harder. Isabella let out a low whimper. He repeated his command.
"Look at me."
And she did.
Their eyes locked, the heat between them rising with every stroke as he slid in and out of her, relentless and consuming.
Coyote's thrusts grew even more intense. Isabella cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders, leaving raw lines on his skin. His cock filled her completely, stretching her to the limit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her with every movement.
He kissed her deeply, possessively, then suddenly pulled back and stood up.
For a moment, Isabella was dazed, catching her breath, wondering what was going through his mind. Then, he motioned for her to stand. As she did, he sat down on the couch, his thick shaft standing tall, glistening.
"Ride me. Ride me like a pony, Isabella," Coyote said, motioning for her to come closer.
Isabella hesitated.
She was still trembling, uncertain if she could take all of him in this new position. She had barely managed it lying down.
Coyote saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes and gave her a steady look.
"You can take it, gorgeous."
Isabella bit her lip and obeyed. She straddled him slowly, swinging one leg over his lap and positioning herself above his shaft. Her eyes stayed on his as she began to lower herself, inch by inch, onto his cock.
"Oh, fuck," Isabella moaned, her voice breaking as Coyote filled her up again.
Coyote groaned, gripping her soft peach shaped ass tightly. "Ride me, baby," he urged.
She began to move, grinding her hips in slow circles, gradually building speed. She leaned back, arching her back, offering him her breasts. Coyote leaned forward, cupping and squeezing her soft curves, taking one into his mouth, sucking and licking as she moved above him.
"Yes, yes, yes," Isabella chanted, her moans spilling from her lips, louder and more desperate with every bounce.
Coyote could feel himself getting close. Isabella's tightness, her rhythm, the sound of her breathless cries, it was all too much. He could feel her cunt tightening again, clenching around him like a velvet vice.
He began thrusting up into her with renewed intensity, meeting her every move with a powerful drive of his own. The rhythm between them grew wild, unrestrained.
"I am cumming!" Isabella screamed, her whole body convulsing as her orgasm tore through her, her pussy clenching hard around Coyote's cock.
Coyote let out a deep, primal roar as he came, his climax hitting just as hard. Isabella followed again, her body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her.
They collapsed onto the couch, breathless and glistening with sweat. Isabella curled into him, her skin warm and soft against his, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.
"You definitely handled me, Mr. Watkins."
Coyote smiled down at her. He wanted her again, right now, but he didn't want to seem greedy. For crying out loud, this woman was working to help him get his career back. He couldn't afford to overstep, no matter how badly he wanted her.
"I told you I would. Well, I don't want to overstay my welcome, Miss Cruz. I think it is time for me to go," Coyote said, rising from the couch.
He removed the condom, then glanced over at Isabella, who was still lounging, gloriously naked and glowing in the aftermath.
"Where is your bathroom?"
Isabella perked up, pushing herself up from the cushions. "I will take you there, myself. It's a big suite. I can't have you go missing," she said, her tone light and teasing.
Coyote chuckled at the absurdity of getting lost in her suite. But then it clicked—she wasn't really worried. She wanted another round. This time in the bathroom.
He smirked. "Yes, you are right. I will follow your lead."
Isabella grinned and rose to her feet, her confident strut stealing his breath. She swayed her hips deliberately, and with every step, her fine backside moved like a hypnotic rhythm meant just for him. Coyote's desire sparked to life again, hard and insistent. He couldn't resist her, and doesn't want to.
He briefly stepped over to the drawer, grabbed two more condoms, and followed her, completely entranced by the way her body moved, graceful, bold, magnetic.
They entered the bathroom, the space sleek and gleaming with marble finishes. Isabella stepped inside first, guiding him in. Just as he reached for the faucet to rinse off the sweat from their earlier tryst, her voice cut through the air with a sharpness that surprised him, with a question that came out of nowhere.
"Tell me the truth, no bullshit this time. How did you heal so fast?"