She’s been waiting for this moment all day. Blonde curls framing a face made for sin, dressed like she’s about to meet him at dinner but has other plans. The bathroom door clicks shut behind them—no lights on, just shadows and the sound of her breath hitching as she sinks down onto the cold porcelain seat. One hand braces against the wall while her mouth swallows him whole; throat muscles fluttering as she struggles to keep up with his rhythm. Teeth grazing skin when he pulls back too fast—she doesn’t care. Her free hand slides between her legs under that flimsy dress strap, fingers already slick from anticipation before he even gets there again.