Elena leaned against the kitchen counter, swirling a bottle of coffee liqueur with a smirk that could melt ice. "You really think you can handle me pouring this on you like some cheap bar trick?" she teased, her eyes locking on Marcus. He chuckled, loosening his collar. "Only if you promise not to lick it all off before I get a turn. Last time you played bartender, I ended up owing you dinner and a confession."
Marcus stepped closer, the air thickening with that familiar spark. "Confession? Fine—I've been thinking about your mouth on my skin since our last coffee date. But this time, no games. Or are you all talk, Elena?" She arched a brow, strong and unyielding, pouring a shot into a glass before trailing it down his chest. "Talk? Darling, I'm about to make you pant."
Clothes hit the floor in a rush of heat. Elena straddled him on the rug, her body glistening as she dripped the liqueur along his abs. "Look at that cock, already hard for me," she purred, licking it clean in slow, deliberate strokes that turned into a teasing blowjob. Marcus groaned, hands gripping her ass. "Fuck, you're wet already—dripping like you can't wait."
She rose, guiding him inside her slick pussy with a wicked grin. "Horny doesn't even cover it. Now thrust like you mean it." Their bodies moved in rhythm, sweating and panting as the liqueur mixed with their heat. He came first with a grunt, but she rode him harder, chasing her own release until she followed, cum slick between them.
Elena collapsed beside him, laughing breathlessly. "That was just the appetizer. Next round, I want it on your tongue." Marcus pulled her close, the night far from over.
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