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She takes a breath, then pushes deeper. Her throat relaxes around him as she takes him further than she thought she could, her nose brushing against his pelvis. Her eyes water immediately, tears spilling over, mascara beginning to streak down her cheeks in dark lines.

She doesn't stop.

Her hands grip his thighs for support as she finds a rhythm, pulling back just enough to breathe before taking him deep again. The sounds she makes are raw—gagging, swallowing, moaning around him—none of it performed, all of it real. Her tears leave dark tracks on her flushed skin as she looks up at him, eyes red-rimmed but hungry.

She holds there for a moment, throat full of him, before pulling back with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting them. She coughs once, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing mascara further across her cheek.

"Fuck."

Her voice is wrecked, rough, but there's a smile on her lips as she looks up at him, breathing hard.

"You're gonna be the death of me."

She doesn't wait for a response before she's lowering her head again, taking him back into her mouth with the same desperate hunger.

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