“Jesus,” I mutter, before I’m silenced by another long and feverish kiss. She moves to my neck and I turn my head to the side as she sucks at my flesh. There will be bruises there tomorrow, but I don’t care. She’s marking me, branding me as her own and that’s exactly what I want to be. Hers. The force of her hips driving into mine makes me burn with want and the submissive state I’m in heightens all sensations. She moves her hand down my body and in between my shaking legs. Instinctively, I want to close them, only because I’m tied up, but without warning she enters me, and I whimper in delight when two of her fingers fill me up. My pussy is clenching around them, pulling her in deeper, and I can barely breathe I’m so aroused again. She closes her eyes, letting out a sigh as if she’s been dying to be inside me. I marvel at her face as she sucks in a breath. It’s a beautiful sight, one that feels oddly private. Sweat is pearling on her forehead and I’m sweating too. Our bodies are overheated, blazing, raging with desire and I think I might spontaneously combust if she continues like this.
“You like that?” she asks, retracting her fingers.
“God, yes,” I whisper. “Don’t stop.” Every nerve in my body is screaming out for her and the frustration of not being able to grab hold of her builds. My clit is so sensitive that I almost scream when she brushes her fingers over it.
“Ask nicely.” She clearly loves to hear me beg, but I can also see from her expression she wants nothing more than to make me come.
“Please don’t stop,” I plead. “Please.”
“Good girl.” She plunges into me again, and this time, shifts her weight to my thigh, coating me with her own wetness. The sensation of it shatters me, causing intense pulsations to rip through me and I let out a strangled cry as she starts fucking me. Her hips move in the rhythm of her hand, faster and faster. Her other hand is in my hair, pulling my head back so our eyes meet. The ragged breathing against my mouth, the frown between her brows and her teeth resting on her delicious, glistening under lip tells me she’s close too. I want to wait for her, but she’s determined in her passionate quest to elate me. Wave after wave of delicious tension starts building up and I’m unable to hold back. Shifting her attention to my neck, she sucks my delicate flesh hard the very moment I burst and only seconds later, she climaxes too with a loud ‘fuck’ spilling out of her as she crumples on the bed. The primal growl of her voice echoes through the room, merging with my moans when she repeats the word over and over. I feel close to her, so close that my eyes fill with tears when she rests her head on my shoulder and takes me into her arms. The embrace is all-encompassing, tender, tight, honest, and I’m unfamiliar with passion like this. My previous lovers were only ever there for convenience, and although the sex was sometimes good, they never made me feel like I was at one with them. As her breathing steadies I know she will become distant again and I want to be inside her mind so badly it hurts.
“Untie me,” I say. “I want to hold you.”
17
My alarm goes off as I’m lying in her arms, kissing her after hours of passionate, steamy sex, then tender lovemaking. We’re like teenagers, unable to keep our hands off each other and even though she’s fighting it, I can see that she’s slowly letting her guard down in the way she looks at me when I touch her and the way she keeps pulling me in as if she too, is dreading saying goodbye. Quickly, I turn off the noise that cuts through our dreamy euphoric haze like a sharp knife. I hate the loud beep and want to throw my phone across the room or even through the window. It’s the sound of goodbye, the sound of the end of this wonderful thing we have going on. Jeff, Randy and I are leaving for the airport in two hours and I don’t want to go.
“Fuck,” I say, because I truly am fucked. There’s nowhere to go from here and I wonder how long I’ll be stuck in the memory of her. Months? Years? Will I ever be able to move on? To form relationships after knowing what it’s like to be with her? So perfectly perfect, exciting, thrilling, beautiful, inspiring and life-changing… My fingers graze her breast as I put my head back on her chest. I see goose bumps appear on her skin and her nipple hardens. She lets out a deep sigh as I trace lazy circles around it, then trail my finger down to her stomach where I rest my hand on her soft skin.
“I know.” She swallows hard, then says: “I trust you.” Before I can enquire as to the meaning behind this random statement, she continues, lowering her voice as if talking to herself. “At first, I just did it for the thrill. I’ve worked for my father’s security company since I finished high school and took over when he passed away. A couple of years ago I sold the business when it started to lose money.” She pauses. “I’m an expert on security systems and can get into most buildings or systems undetected. I can erase recorded digital footage and replace it with an alternative image that is so precise no one would ever notice it’s not real. Opening doors is like riding a bike to me, and even opening digitally controlled doors or safes is not that hard with the right equipment and research. It’s a unique skill and one that’s highly sought-after, but as you can imagine, it rarely involves a good cause and honest, decent employers.”
“That’s how you got into my room.” I take a moment to process what she’s telling me. So she is a criminal. Do I mind? The shock from her suddenly opening up to me seems like a bigger deal than the actual revelation itself. Carefully considering how I feel about this, I come to the conclusion that I’m actually relieved, because it could have been a lot worse.
“These hotel doors are nothing.” She smiles and relaxes a little when it’s clear that I’m not going to jump out of bed and run for the hills. “And just so you know, I don’t make a habit of letting myself into people’s rooms or homes, and I never steal anything either. Well, not personally anyway. But the people I work with do steal, and they pay me for my services.”
“How long have you been doing this?” I ask.
“The breaking and entering since I was about eighteen. The side job I’ve been doing for twenty years. I’m forty-seven now and retiring. Yesterday was my last gig.”
After doing the math, I conclude that she’s twelve years older than me. I’m surprised at this, because she comes across as younger, but perhaps her unconventional lifestyle has something to do with that.
“Did your father teach you what you know?” I ask. Suddenly, there doesn’t seem nearly enough time left. Now that she’s finally talking, I want to know more. I want to know everything.
“He taught me the basics, but it was entirely innocent. My father was an honest man; he would turn in his grave if he knew what I’d been up to. When he first started his business, and people in our little town had locked themselves out, he used to send me over. It was much easier to pick locks instead of replacing them, and in the end, it was cheaper for the customer too. Everyone in the small community knew about my skill but they also trusted me not to abuse it. I was a good kid when I was younger, never any trouble at all.”
“What about your mother?” I ask.
“I never knew her. She left shortly after she had me. Postpartum depression. My father always expected her to come back, but she never did.”