by Ana Vela
“It was a massage with a happy ending.” She snickered into the menu and toyed with her hair. “He wants to see me tomorrow. Where did you find him, Kate?”
“He needs to stay a stranger, Annie, like we agreed. Keep him anonymous. Don’t find out too much about him. That’s the whole point. We have dinner tonight with a publisher. Forget him for now.”
She’d completely forgotten. It was the last thing she felt like doing. Canoodling with new people...the dreaded networking. As she made her way back to her hotel, she replayed her encounter with Pedro, again and again. By the time she’d reached her door, he’d become a fixture in her mind, begging to be revisited.
She took her second shower of the day and washed away the oil that still sat on her skin, thinking of his hands on her. He’d understood her body as if she’d belonged to him.
She named the seduction: the appeal of a stranger discovering and owning her, only for a moment. It became a mental note; a mantra to remember as she rinsed shampoo from her hair. The dichotomy was all-absorbing. She wanted to know him; understand his triggers and attraction to her, but she couldn’t sabotage her own game. She stepped out of the shower and looked at herself in the mirror, wondering what he’d thought of her body. If he’d liked the way her breasts curved above her small waist, and how they’d felt under his palms.
Or if he’d wanted something else entirely...she frowned. She couldn’t read him fully; couldn’t determine how much of it had been the game, and how much of it had been genuine attraction. She towelled her hair and let it air dry as she sat on the balcony, making notes on a notepad and drinking red wine. Pampered. That had been the theme for this encounter, but the more she wrote, the closer she reached another frontier. In large script, she wrote: submission. A dirty word that became more appealing the more she thought of him. She’d enjoyed the feeling of being vulnerable and exposed. The side of her she couldn’t reveal outside of the game; didn’t want to reveal.
She raked through her suitcase, half-heartedly deciding what to wear to dinner. She needed to forget him for the moment. Focus on tonight: an introduction to a potential European publisher. As she threw clothes onto her bed and looked for a dress, her cell phone buzzed.
“She gave him my number?” Annie smiled as she read a text from him, and felt a mix of pleasure and frustration at how Kate could control her contact with him.
Have you been thinking of me, Annie? I hope I can touch you again. Pedro.
She typed three different replies, without sending any. He’d sent a message that gave little away, but he wanted to know what he’d done to her. “He already knows,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head and trying to formulate a response.
Yes. I haven’t stopped.
She hit send, biting her lip. She sat waiting for another text, gulping wine until she forced herself to finish getting ready to leave. Another look at her phone. No response.
As she rode in the back of a cab on her way to Plaza Mayor, she heard her phone buzz again.
Give me two words.
He understood the game better than she did, and she wondered how much instruction he’d received from Kate. How much was his doing, and how much was hers.
Dominate me, she replied, her hands shaking a little.
As the cab wound its way through the city, she imagined him standing at the foot of her bed, where she lay tied to the bedpost by her hands, her legs open. He would hover over her, enjoying how her body quivered as his hands brushed her skin. He’d cup her breasts and suck her nipples, then roam her thighs with his lips. At last he’d thrust into her, holding her apart as he took what he wanted from her.
The plaza was lit with rows of lights hanging low over restaurant tables, and young couples sat kissing under the centered fountain. An accordionist played, pleading for coins and attention. The apartment lay tucked in a side street, and as she buzzed the bell and climbed the stairs, she realized it’s exterior hid it’s opulence. A tall, thin woman dressed in emerald green opened the door and ushered her into the hallway. She heard voices from the living room, but the woman motioned her past the living room, farther down a long corridor. Confused, she followed her.
“Kate says you must wait here,” she whispered, in a thick Madrid-lilt.
She stood in the middle of a bedroom, by a brass bed. The walls were covered in dark red wallpaper on one wall, and a large canvas almost covered the other. Trailing Silk flowers tumbled from ceramic vases, between rows of antique books on a heavy console table. She began to fidget, wondering why she’d been led into the room alone. The door handle turned, and she held her breath. Pedro stood in the doorway, disarming in a crisp white shirt and loose tie over black dress pants.
“Pedro? I thought…”
He smiled and walked toward her, stopping just inches from her. “Shhh, Annie. It’s the game.” He swept hair from her shoulder and ran his thumb over her cheek.
“Is this Kate’s doing?” She looked around, confused.
“Maybe. Thank you for your message.” He kissed her, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her close.
She felt her cheeks redden and she felt too hot in the dress she wore. She’d been taken off guard and felt flustered. His lips were warm and soft, though, and disentangled her from her objection.
He began to unbutton her dress. His hands were light, agile, and confident. He let the fabric slip to the floor.
“But someone could come in…”
He put his finger to her lips. “Shh...not if you’re quiet.”
She stood in her underwear, wondering what he would do next. He paused and stared at her with a half-smile on his lips, then kissed her. His hands gripped her waist, then roamed to her breasts.
“Do as I say, Annie, and we can do this again. But don’t say a word.” He whispered into her ear as he freed her breasts from her bra and nudged down her underwear.
She wanted to undress him, but he held her by the wrists and shook his head. Instead, he loosened his belt and let his hard cock spring from his pants, then pushed her lightly on her shoulder to motion her down. She sucked him on her knees, staring at the door. Willing no one to come in. Laughter drifted from the living room. But no footsteps. His cock was thick and rigid, and tasting him made her ache for him. He stood in silence, looking at her below his belt, releasing only faint sighs as she sucked harder. He tapped her shoulder, and she released him.
“Lie down.” He slipped his tie from his neck and fastened her wrists to the bed frame. She lay still, still staring at the door. He opened her legs and held them wide, then kissed his way down her stomach. She fluttered under his touch. His lips brushed the skin of her thighs, and then his tongue found her. He flicked and caressed her until she forgot the unlocked door. She looked down to see his mass of black hair tousled between her legs, and tensed as climax gripped her. His mouth moved to her stomach again, then up to her breasts, where he arced around her nipples and held the soft skin around them.
He stood up, and belted his pants, staring at her naked on the bed. She stared back, confused. He untied her and kissed her wrists where they’d been tied, and scooped her into his arms to hold her on the bed. “Get dressed and go back to your hotel,” he whispered, looking into his pocket.
He pulled out a key and smiled. “The door locks from the inside. You need a key to come in from the outside.”
**********
She rode a cab home, confused. She had been desperate for him to make love to her. No, she corrected herself. She had wanted him to fuck her. He was teasing her. Pushing her to beg. It made her long for him. She felt a mixture of lust and anger toward him, and the combination churned in her stomach as the cab neared her hotel. Submission. She’d wanted more, despite herself. But to give her everything would be to obey her, she realized. And in this game, she wanted to obey him.
She sent a message to Kate, baffled at how the evening had unfolded: The publisher?
He’s in Paris on vacation. That wasn’t his apartment. Smiley fac
e.
**********
Her hotel room felt empty and over air-conditioned. She hadn’t expected to be home so early. She found the bottle of wine she’d opened earlier and settled onto the balcony. The night sky revealed faint stars competing with streetlights for prominence. She scribbled more notes down, her writing a little sloppy from wine and a rattled mind. She’d assumed that with submission would come sex, but instead she’d been forced to accept less. Perhaps that was real submission, she wondered, toying with the idea as it jabbed at her.
As the streets quieted, she felt more alone, and she cocooned herself in sheets. Bolstered under pillows, she willed him to fade from her mind and allow sleep to come. Jet lag had already warped her sense of time, and she felt torn between sleep and writing. But eventually it did come, with dreams of him and of her novel. He merged with her hero, and she merged with her heroine. She disengaged from her body and watched a scene unfold. He held her down over rumpled sheets, binding her again to the bed frame. But this time he was naked, and hovered over her, biting her lip lightly, before entering her. She watched her with him, part character, part herself. Felt her need met as he filled her and thrust into her.
She woke with sheets wet between her legs. Sweat pooled on her chest, but the cool air chilled her. She showered again and changed into a thin camisole and shorts. She jumped at she heard a knock at the door. It was past midnight.
Pedro stood at the door, in the same shirt and tie.
“How do you know where I’m staying?” Her pulse raced.
“I’m staying in the room opposite yours. That wasn’t my office.” He smiled, looking at her body.
She walked toward him, bold, angry, and full of need for him. They slid back into her hotel room wrapped in each other, and he pinned her against the wall as he kicked the door shut with his foot. Her camisole and shorts fell to the floor as she pushed his shirt off his back, and he raked down her underwear as she grappled with his belt. He slid the leather from his belt loops and let it drop to the floor as she unzipped his pants, and found his hard cock straining for freedom underneath. She turned and pressed him against the wall of the hallway, and felt him shiver as she slid down his body, her curves gliding over him as she made her way down. She took his wet cock in her mouth, and sucked hard as she rubbed the base of his thick shaft. His hands were in her hair, gripping handfuls of it as the pleasure of her tongue and lips left him weak and propped against the wall.
“Yes…” His sighs were low and heavy with need for more. She sucked harder, and he guided her farther into his mouth, tensing the muscles of his hard stomach. As his control slipped a little more he eased her up and toward the desk opposite the bed, where she lay flat on her back with her legs curled around his waist. His fingers were warm as they entered her, first one, then two. She arched her hips, and he dropped to his knees and kissed her thighs, still teasing her with his fingertips until his lips replaced them. He flicked his tongue over her rapidly, enjoying the moan it released from her. As his fingers entered her again, she spread wider. He sank deeper into her, hungry for her.
“Fuck me,” she begged him.
He stood and took his cock in his hand, but held back. “Tease me first,” he ordered, staring down at her breasts that curved to the bedroom ceiling. He moved her ass farther up the desk, so she lay on it fully. She obliged, opening her legs for him, and moving her hands down her body. She stopped to finger her nipples as he stared.
“More,” he demanded, his eyes following the movement of her fingers. She found her pussy wet between her legs and began to touch herself, sliding her fingers into her opening and up over her clit. He looked on with his cock in his hand. His eyes consumed her.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered, opening herself with one hand and fingering with the other. His stare aroused her as much as his hands and lips.
“No, more,” he insisted, rubbing his cock a little faster. He moved closer and inserted his finger into her as she touched herself, and she sighed at the sensation of being opened farther.
“Yes,” he replied, aroused by how the rapid movement of her own fingers were sending shivers through her. Her body tensed and strained as her fingertips swirled.
“But I want to come with you inside me,” she replied, exhaling as a thicker wave of pleasure rolled over her.
“We have all night, Annie,” he corrected, probing her deeper with two fingers. “I want to see you come.”
She loved this game. His dominance and determination, and his insistence on watching her. She came as he fucked her with his eyes and fingers, and gripped the sides of the desk as it rippled through her. The feel of her body tense with climax dissolved his restraint, and he pulled her forward as she wrapped her legs around his waist again. He teased her opening with his cock, rubbing it against her and almost entering her. She grasped his arms; a silent plea for him to thrust into her. She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply as he met her need, at last. He held her legs wide open, allowing himself the lust of feeling her clasping tightly around him. She felt her body slide under the cool wood veneer as he raised her higher and pushed into her faster, digging into her thighs and watching her.
Gently he pulled her off the desk and turned her around, then kicked her legs wider and pushed her back down, so she was more open to him.
“Annie,” he whispered as he took her. “I'm going to fuck you until you scream. Don't move.”
She moaned, holding tight to the edge of the table as he slammed against her. She wanted to thrust back into him; she wanted all of him, now. He felt her need and teased her, withdrawing, then pushing deeper again. He rolled his hips and moved persistently and rhythmically. He wouldn't go faster, he wouldn't go slower, just steady. Deeper, as his balls slapped against her.
She wanted to scream; to wake the hotel guests and let the world know how well he fucked her.
He groaned as she clenched again, enjoying how tight and wet she was around his thickness. His warm, large hands held her hips and squeezed her breasts, pinching her nipples as he thrust into her. She shook at the conflict of fulfilment and frustration as her orgasm built inside her again, slowly curling between her legs and unfolding. Her fingers flexed and twitched as it worked through every part of her. The swirling pressure of pleasure that waxed and waned as he drove harder, then eased. Every nerve in her body was concentrated on his movement and the ache of desire for me. She was waiting to come, but didn’t want it to end, and that tight control made every thrust more fulfilling. But it began to unravel, and she entered a tunnel of total focus, with her breasts swelling in his hands. One more thrust would push her over the edge.
He pulled her up by her hair and increased his pace, and his lips bit her ear delicately. He pushed harder and faster as he felt her come, and then tensed and climaxed inside her, filling her with the warmth of his release. The stood together a moment, with his strong arms holding onto her tight, and she felt his breath slow on her neck. He swept hair off her face and kissed her, then took her hand. His fingers flexed, intertwined with hers, and then led her to bed.
The digits of her phone glowed 5.00 a.m. She closed her eyes as he held her from behind, and she tried to forget that she had to write tomorrow. It would have to be the afternoon. The scent of amber cologne still lingered on his skin, and he felt warm next to her in the cool of the cotton sheets. The street was almost quiet outside, and the curtains fluttered against the open window. His chest began to rise and fall against her back. He was asleep next to her; this man she’d met twelve hours ago. She smiled at the possibilities of travel. How it made the unlikely a sudden option, and revealed new pathways to her as her feet made their way around the city. She wanted more. More of the unlikely and unknown. Paris would be next, then Rome and London. She had no idea what would happen in those three cities, but Pedro, she mused, was the beginning of a greater adventure. His hair brushed against her as he murmured and she felt a confusing mix of peace and disquietude. The intimacy of a moment with som
eone she didn’t know, but whom she’d already given her body to and taken from.