The hotel lounge was full but quiet, softened by the hush of low jazz and the warm lull of intimate conversation. Leather armchairs curled around small tables, inviting confidences. The lighting was low and golden, designed to flatter, to beckon. Waiters moved soundlessly in black waistcoats, gliding with drinks and delicate plates, their presence part of the room’s elegant character.

Alex arrived first.

He stood at the bar, a glass of cognac cupped loosely in his hand, eyes drifting over the room with languid ease. His jacket hugged his shoulders perfectly, his crisp and sharp shirt collar, though he tugged at it as if it chafed him. Nerves, perhaps. Or something deeper. Something darker. A pulse thrummed low in his blood when he saw her.

Katherine.

She stepped in on the arm of her date, Brian, older, well-kept, with silver streaks at his temples and the mellow tan of a man who spent his afternoons on manicured fairways. His hand rested lightly against the small of her back as he guided her inside, a gesture of quiet possession. Of belonging. Of control.

After Alex’s last date a week before, this was their attempt to recalibrate,  an experiment in double-blind dating. No games. No introductions. Just strangers meeting strangers to see what desire might ignite.

She laughed softly at something Brian murmured, tilting her head so her pinned hair revealed the delicate line of her neck. Her dress was a deep green, backless, and dipped low enough to catch every stray glimmer of light. She moved like a woman used to admiration, and keenly aware of its power.

Alex swallowed hard.

She hadn’t seen him. Not yet.

“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting,” a voice chimed at his side.

Lucy.

Her black slip dress clung like liquid shadow, its slender straps framing the smooth planes of her shoulders. A whisper-light shawl draped around her arms, skimming the soft curves of her body. Her makeup was minimal—fresh, dewy skin warmed by a flush of rose, lips glossed to a gentle sheen, eyes luminous beneath feathered lashes that caught every flicker of light.

She slipped onto the stool beside him, satin brushing her thighs with a whisper. Leaning in, her scent drifted over him: warm vanilla entwined with smoky amber, wrapping around his senses, slipping beneath his guard.

Tonight, she was dressed to seduce. And she knew it.

He kissed her cheek, lingering just long enough to feel the softness of her skin. “You look… stunning.”

“You’re overdressed,” she murmured, her gaze sliding down his shirt with lazy appreciation. “What’s wrong… afraid of me?” Her lips curled into a teasing smile as she looked up through dark lashes, her eyes glimmering with unspoken promise.

He laughed it off.

“No,” he lied.

Alex signalled for a gin and tonic laced with crisp cucumber. Lucy crossed one leg over the other, the gentle brush of her knee against his thigh sending a low ripple of heat through his blood. Her pale-blue–nailed fingers traced the rim of her glass as they talked about her newest tutorial, campus politics, and the boys she artfully dodged.

“I swear,” she murmured, leaning closer so her breath teased his ear, “twenty-year-olds just want to get in, come, and apologise.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “And you want...?”

“Someone who knows how to stay in.”

The line fell heavily between them. She didn't look away. Didn't flinch. Her meaning lingered in the humid air, curling into his chest. He smiled faintly. "I'll do my hardest to comply."

Across the lounge, Katherine had seen them now. She masked the flicker of recognition with practised grace as Brian spoke beside her. She nodded absently, her attention drifting back to the bar. To Alex. To the much-younger woman leaning in, their bodies close enough to suggest shared secrets. She watched as Lucy's hand rested lightly on his thigh, the way she threw her head back to laugh, her mouth parted just enough to look inviting.

Her drink arrived, a glass of Burgundy. She sipped it slowly, letting the warmth bloom across her tongue as her eyes lingered on him.

So, we’re playing, are we? she thought. Fine.

She shifted slightly in her seat, crossing her legs with a fluid grace that revealed a slip of silk brushing her thighs. She knew he was watching.

Alex was.

He watched Brian lean in, murmuring against her ear, saw her lips part with a small smile before her fingers curled lightly around Brian’s wrist.

He exhaled slowly, fighting the quickening in his pulse.

Beside him, Lucy’s hand slid higher on his leg. “You seem distracted,” she teased, eyes glinting.

“Just watching the room,” he murmured, his voice low.

Lucy glanced around with playful disdain. “Old money everywhere,” she whispered. “Bet that one’s married,” she added, nodding at Brian. “Can’t imagine she’s not shagging someone’s dad.”

“What makes you think that?” Alex asked, a smile flickering.

“His ring finger,” she said softly. “He’s only just taken it off.”

Alex winced, a small involuntary flicker that Katherine caught, though she couldn’t read it. He recovered quickly, offering Lucy a thin smile. “Stranger things have happened.”

In the dining room beyond, tables were spaced just enough to prevent conversation, but near enough for stolen glances. For silent declarations.

Katherine laughed again, the sound slipping like silk over the music. Not too loud. Just enough to travel. She touched Brian’s arm, leaned in with feline grace. Then she crossed her legs again, the opposite way, and Alex glimpsed the dark shimmer between her thighs. Silk. Damp.

Lucy was talking, her voice warmer now, her fingers curling lightly around his wrist as she leaned closer. A pause. A glance. Her next words came softer, dipping in pitch, sliding under his skin.

"I mean… sometimes I wonder what it would be like. Not just reading about it, but feeling it." Her voice wavered with quiet vulnerability, which made him ache. She glanced away, a small smile playing on her lips as though dismissing her confession, but her hand remained, thumb stroking lightly against his pulse.

Earlier, Alex had teased her, describing in hushed, wicked detail how he pictured her, how she would look, her lips parted, her body trembling, the camera catching every flicker of surrender.

Now, as her eyes lifted back to his, there was no mistaking the softness there. The silent invitation. The quiet, beautiful surrender as if she was already halfway there, perhaps… she was.

Alex tilted his head slightly, eyes half-lidded. "What would it be like?"

She hesitated, her confidence faltering in an almost sweet way. Almost innocent.

"To… let go a bit," she said softly, her voice thinning to a whisper. "Not think so much. Just let someone else set the pace."

He didn't answer immediately. He watched her, gaze calm and steady, letting the silence thicken between them until she squirmed slightly under its weight.

Lucy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling just enough for him to notice. She glanced down at the empty glass in her hand, the gloss on her lips catching the low light.

“I’m not saying I’d actually do anything mad,” she added quickly, her voice gaining a brittle edge. “I’m… not exactly the reckless type.”

Alex’s lips curved into a slow smile.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “that’s exactly why you should try.”

The waiter cleared their plates and set down the dessert menus with hushed efficiency. Alex leaned back in his chair, his body language unhurried, possessive, his gaze locked onto hers as if he were already undressing her with his eyes.

“Why don’t we finish upstairs instead?” he said, almost casually.

Lucy blinked, caught off guard. “Upstairs?” Her voice wavered, softer now, more fragile. “I… didn’t think…”

Her mind scrambled to catch up. She’d imagined another drink, more teasing conversation, a slow seduction unfolding under candlelight. But the quiet certainty in his gaze unravelled her. Heat coiled low in her belly, her pulse fluttering against the delicate skin of her throat. Her breathing quickened, a flicker of nerves brushing beneath her ribs.

Alex only smiled faintly, his expression patient and unreadable, like he already knew her answer.

She tilted her head, a small grin breaking through. “Booked a room?”

He nodded once. "Two. Just in case." His tone was light, almost playful. But he neglected to tell her the other room was for Katherine, his wife.

Her smile spread slowly, sensual and knowing. "I like a man who plans."

Across the lounge, Katherine read the message in Alexe’s look, "Shall we go somewhere more private?" she whispered across the table.

Brian stood, pulling her chair back with practised courtesy. As they passed Alex and Lucy's table, Katherine didn't spare him a glance. But her perfume, jasmine and rose, layered with warm sandalwood, drifted in her wake, wrapping around his senses like a silent challenge.

The lift creaked softly as it ascended, polished mirrors reflecting the golden light into fractals of desire. Katherine stood to the left, Brian close beside her, his hand resting at the small of her back, fingertips grazing bare skin. She wore no bra beneath the green dress. Her choice. Deliberate. A taunt meant only for Alex.

Alex stood behind them. He pretended not to notice. Pretended Lucy’s hand curled at his wrist was the only touch he craved. But his eyes flicked to the glass panel before him, tracing the graceful curve of Katherine's spine and the delicate flutter of her breath as Brian leaned close and murmured something low against her ear. Her lips parted slightly, a tremor rippling through her shoulders.

Beside him, Lucy caught the distant focus in his gaze. She leaned closer, her voice soft with concern.

“You alright?”

“Fine,” he said, too quickly, the word tight in his throat as his eyes lingered on Katherine’s reflection, already imagining what came next. 

Room 210

Brian unlocked the door and stepped aside, gesturing for Katherine to enter first. She moved past him silently, her heels sinking into the thick carpet, the room greeting her with the clean scent of expensive soap and polished mahogany. Ambient lighting pooled softly across the king-size bed, illuminating crisp white sheets and the deep burgundy drapes.

She walked to the curtains, fingers brushing the heavy fabric before drawing it aside. Sliding open the balcony door, she stepped out into the warm September night. The air was thick with the scent of lavender from the flowerbeds below, stirred now and then by a gentle breeze that teased the loose strands of hair against her neck.

As she stood, feeling the heat of the day still clinging to the tiles beneath her feet, she sensed movement across the way: six feet, no more.

Another balcony door slid open.

Alex.

She didn’t turn her head. Didn’t look directly. But every part of her felt him there, the silent pull of his presence crackling between them like an unlit stage moments before the curtains rose.

Room 211

The lock clicked softly as Alex withdrew the key card and pushed the door open. Lucy entered first, laughter still tumbling from her lips from something he'd whispered in the corridor. The sound was light, airy, edged with anticipation.

She slipped off her jacket in one fluid motion, letting it slide from her shoulders to drape across a chair. Her eyes roamed the room with curiosity, taking in the elegant restraint of its decor: polished walnut furniture, muted lighting, the hint of citrus and sandalwood from discreetly hidden diffusers.

Alex moved to the curtains, fingers curling around the fabric as he pulled it aside. He opened the sliding doors and stepped out onto the balcony, the warm air washing over him. Lavender. Late summer heat. Silence.

Across the way, another balcony door stood open.

Katherine.

Lucy followed him out, barefoot now, her toes curling against the cool tiles. She glanced at the view, smiling softly. "This is nice," she said, her voice bright with approval. "You always bring your women to four-star hotels?"

From the other balcony, Katherine’s gaze flicked up briefly, her expression unreadable as she watched them through the dim light.

Alex’s lips curved into a faint smile, his voice low and edged with promise. “Only when I want to hear them scream.”

Katherine bit her lower lip, a tremor of memory sparking low in her stomach.

Lucy raised an eyebrow, her smirk playful and challenging. “Cheeky.”

She stepped closer, letting her hand trail lightly down Alex's arm. Still, his eyes stayed locked on Katherine across the narrow divide, the quiet tension vibrating between them like a bowstring drawn tight. 

Room 210

Brian poured the wine into two squat crystal tumblers, dispensing with the pretence of stemmed elegance. His movements were slow, deliberate, weighted with the knowledge of what was about to unfold. Katherine stood by the window, the curtain's edge brushing her bare shoulder as she looked out into the velvet night. The balcony door remained open, just enough to let the sounds drift in and out.

She felt the lavender-scented breeze slip across her skin, cooling the flush gathering at her chest. Her dress clung to her thighs, the silk whispering as she shifted her weight. Her back remained exposed to the waist, moonlight brushing her skin in pale silver.

“You’re nervous,” she said softly, her tone edged with a teasing cruelty she didn’t entirely mean.

Brian chuckled, his laugh deep and quiet, as he handed her the glass. His fingertips lingered against hers, rough against smooth.

“Not nervous,” he said. “Just aware.”

“Of me?”

He tilted his head, studying her face as though committing it to memory. "Of the moment. And you, in that dress."

She stepped closer, closing the small gap between them until their bodies touched. Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. “And what would you do,” she asked, her breath brushing his lips, “if I told you I wore nothing beneath it?”

His eyes darkened, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed her.

His mouth was warm, his kiss unhurried, tasting of slow hunger restrained for too long. His hands came around her waist, then slid lower, gathering the silk upward in smooth, possessive motions as he walked her back toward the bed.

The wine sat forgotten on the sideboard, the glasses untouched, a silent testament to their abandoned civility.

Room 211

Alex stepped inside behind Lucy, leaving the door ajar just enough for sound to travel freely between the rooms – and return. Cool night air curled into the room, stirring the sheer curtains and carrying with it the faint rustle of leaves, as well as perhaps the almost imperceptible sighs from across the narrow divide.

But tonight was not about performance.

Lucy stood by the balcony, her back to him, the black slip dress pooling just below the curve of her hips. The fabric clung to her softly, catching light with each quiet breath she took.

He paused, watching her. Not like a man about to conquer, but like a man revering something fragile. Something half-offered, half-guarded.

She turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder, her voice low, uncertain. “Is this… alright?”

He didn’t move closer immediately. He nodded once, his voice calm. “We don’t rush. Tonight, there’s no script. Just us.”

Lucy exhaled shakily, as though releasing something she’d been holding back for too long – not breath, but the tension that curled tightly inside her chest.

Her hands rose to the slender straps at her shoulders, hesitating. She looked at him, her eyes wide and searching.

Alex stepped forward then. His fingers brushed her skin as he slipped one strap down, then the other, the pads of his fingers warm and careful against her arm. The dress fell in a whisper, pooling around her ankles.

Beneath it, simple white lace panties. Nothing more.

Her arms hovered, then crossed loosely over her chest. “Don’t look at me like that,” she half-laughed, her voice catching.

“Like what?”

“Like… you’ve done this before. Like you know what comes next.”

He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent and her trembling presence. Reaching out, he stroked her hair, brushing a loose strand from her cheek with tender precision.

“What comes next,” he murmured, “is whatever you need.”

Lucy bit her lip but didn’t look away. Slowly, she let her arms fall, sliding one around his neck as she rose onto her toes, pressing her lips to his in a long, searching kiss. Her mouth parted with a soft sigh as their bodies eased together.

Alex undressed in silence, unhurried, each movement deliberate. When he stepped forward again, he was bare from the waist up, trousers undone, his torso lean and strong despite the softness of age. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at her.

“Come here.”

She approached slowly, her bare feet silent against the carpet. Standing between his knees, she felt exposed, trembling. He took her hands in his, his gaze meeting hers steadily, seeing her–not her body, but her.

“May I touch you?” he asked softly.

Lucy nodded, her cheeks flushed with heat and shy anticipation.

He kissed her belly first, soft, lingering kisses along the delicate curve of her waist, his hands resting lightly on the backs of her thighs. Sliding to his knees before her, his mouth brushed her lace-covered warmth, inhaling her scent, savouring the way her hips trembled toward him.

Her breath caught in her throat.

He peeled the lace down with reverence, letting her step out of it. Then he kissed her again, there, where she was already soft and wet, his tongue slow and patient. Not greedy. Not forceful. Just enough pressure to make her knees weaken.

Her fingers curled into his hair, torn between pulling him closer and drawing back from the intensity.

He flicked his tongue slowly and deliberately, then paused to look up at her, his voice dark and calm. "You're allowed to make noise," he murmured.

Her eyes widened slightly.

“I want you to.”

And then he kept going. Long, steady strokes. Circling. Flicking. Sucking lightly. The flat of his tongue melted into the teasing curl of its tip. Her moans came hesitantly at first, fragile and new, like the start of a song she hadn't sung in years.

Outside, the night air drifted in through the open balcony door.

Whether Katherine heard it or not didn’t matter.

For once, this wasn’t about her.

Tonight was about Lucy – and about teaching her how to receive without shame.

Room 210

Brian’s mouth travelled lower now, tracing the slope of Katherine’s neck, tasting her skin with slow deliberation. Each kiss pressed a little deeper, sinking warmth into her flesh as his hands gathered the green silk around her hips and peeled it down with reverence, baring her inch by inch to the cool night air seeping in through the balcony door.

Katherine lay back on the bed, her hair spilling dark across the white duvet like spilt ink. The scent of Brian's aftershave—cedarwood, aged leather, and something faintly smoky—wrapped around her senses, grounding her as his fingers slipped between her thighs.

“We already,” he murmured, his voice hushed with wonder and masculine pride.

“You like that?” she whispered, her tone languid, half-mocking, her eyelids heavy with arousal.

His only answer was the way he parted her legs with silent intent.

His mouth descended, hot and eager, brushing her inner thigh before finding the tender, slick heat of her sex. The first touch of his tongue drew a gasp from her lips—a sound she let escape, let fill the quiet room and drift out through the open door into the humid lavender-scented night.

She didn’t suppress it, she wanted it heard by Alex.

Room 211

Lucy froze mid-breath, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Did you hear that?” she whispered, her voice cutting through the hush of the room, strung tight with tension.

Alex tilted his head slightly, letting the question hang in the hush between them. His eyes flicked towards the balcony, the curtains drifting gently in the warm breeze, carrying faint sounds of pleasure from somewhere nearby.

“Someone’s enjoying themselves,” he said calmly, his tone almost casual, as though commenting on a passing car.

Lucy stared past him towards the open door. Another moan floated in, distinctly female. It was not muted. Not shy. A sound of open, unashamed pleasure, unafraid of being overheard.

Her fingers tightened around Alex’s wrist. Not to push him away. To anchor herself in the vertigo of the moment. She swallowed hard.

“Do you think it’s...?”

"A couple," he murmured. "Two doors down, maybe. These rooms are close."

She blinked, her cheeks flushing deeper, her body tensing with something she couldn’t name. Shame. Desire. Both.

Alex reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not sure about.”

Her eyes searched his, needing reassurance, needing to know she could stop this spinning feeling inside her.

He gave it with a simple nod, a quiet certainty that steadied her.

Then he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth, his lips brushing her skin like a secret. “You’re very safe,” he whispered.

She exhaled shakily. “I know.”

He guided her backwards, his palm firm on her lower back. She let him, folding into the movement, sitting on the edge of the bed, knees bent, feet flat on the carpet, her breath coming in slower now.

Another moan drifted in through the open door. Longer this time. Edged with a rising, unstoppable tide.

Lucy’s cheeks burned hot. Her thighs pressed together involuntarily.

Alex’s hand slipped under her dress, tracing up her thigh with a touch so light it made her shiver. He paused at the hem of her knickers.

“Can I?”

Her answer came after only a beat, a small nod, eyes wide and vulnerable.

He eased the dress up, revealing pale skin inch by inch. She propped herself on her elbows, chest rising and falling with each quickening breath.

Alex crouched beside the bed, still clothed from the waist up, but his movements carried a quiet authority. This presence filled the room with a sense of safety and dark promise.

He kissed her knee first, then higher, each kiss deliberate, asking silent questions that her quiet gasps answered.

Her head fell back onto the pillow with a soft thud. 

His fingers hooked under the waistband of her knickers. She raised her hips, a shy but certain offering. He slid them down slowly, watching her breath catch.

She was wet, not dripping. Not obscene. But open. Ready. Trembling.

He kissed her again, his lips brushing just beside where she pulsed with heat, teasing her with nearness. When his tongue finally touched her, she gasped aloud. It wasn’t overwhelming. It was… gentle. Reverently.

He tasted her like a man memorising her, learning the secret shape of her pleasure.

Outside, another moan rose from the other room—high, unrestrained, a woman crying out into the humid dark.

Lucy’s fingers threaded into Alex’s hair, gripping softly. “God,” she whispered, her voice thin with disbelief and want.

He paused, looking up. “You alright?”

She nodded, her words coming out as breath. “It’s just… she’s so… loud.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

She hesitated. Then she shook her head, her cheeks flushing deeper.

“No. I… I want to be louder than her.”

A slow, wicked smile flickered in Alex’s eyes before he lowered his mouth to her again.

This time, his tongue pressed deeper. Slower. The flat of it dragging firmly against her, circling, teasing, then flicking with precise little strokes that made her hips writhe beneath him.

Her moans started hesitant, then grew louder, rolling through the quiet room in broken, unguarded cries. Her thighs trembled around his shoulders, toes curling into the sheets as pleasure built, tightening inside her until she could no longer hold back.

She came with a sudden, sharp cry, a sound that split the night and carried out through the open balcony door with clear, raw beauty.

She fell back against the bed, chest heaving, eyes glazed, her lips parted around shuddering breaths.

Alex rose beside her, kissing the inside of her wrist softly.

A breathless, incredulous laugh slipped from her lips. “I’ve never… never come like that.”

He smiled gently. “You did beautifully.”

She rolled onto her side, pulling him down beside her, curling her body against his for warmth and grounding.  

From outside, faintly now, a male voice, guttural and trembling. “Katherine...”

Alex blinked, hearing it clearly, though Lucy remained unaware.

Room 210

Katherine lay back against the pillows, thighs parted around Brian's broad shoulders. His mouth moved with a practised skill, steady, confident, claiming her with the certainty of a man who knew that pleasure wasn’t just sensation but command. Pressure. Timing. The gift of permission wrapped in possession.

She arched into him, slow and deliberate, her fingers twisting through the thick waves of his greying hair.

Her head pressed back into the mattress as a moan slipped from her lips, not for him. Not for herself. For the night. For whoever might hear it. Then, she heard it.

Not Brian's deep breathing. Not her ragged sighs.

Her.

A cry, faint but clear, drifted through the open balcony door. High, feminine, edged with wonder and shock. The sound of someone surprised by pleasure. A girl's voice, young, unpolished. Innocent in its surrender.

Lucy.

Katherine’s eyes flew open, her chest tightening with something sharp. Not jealousy, not pain. Something colder. Rivalry.

She held her breath, listening harder.

Another gasp followed, sharper this time, breaking like a wave against the hush of night. The girl was close or had just come. It was impossible to tell, but the rawness in her voice was unmistakable.

Brian’s tongue never faltered, his hands gripping her hips tighter as he worked her open. She was wet, dripping, ready, but her mind had slipped elsewhere.  

To the same room as Alex.

Was he watching Lucy’s face now? Whispering to her to open wider, to cry louder? Was he kissing her like she was delicate, or taking her like he owned her?

A tremor ran through Katherine’s belly, a dark twist of want and rage.

She shut her eyes, letting Lucy’s sounds echo through her chest. Then she moaned—longer, louder, her voice ringing off the whitewashed walls. She arched her back, grinding herself against Brian’s mouth, her fingernails digging into his scalp.

He groaned softly into her flesh, taking her cry as surrender, as triumph. His pace quickened, tongue flicking harder, surer.

Katherine let the next moan come unbound, chest open, throat aching with the force of it. She wanted it to carry. Wanted it to push back through the night and wrap around Alex like a grip he couldn’t ignore.

If Lucy could be heard, then so would she.

She would not be outdone.

The night air pressed heavily against her flushed skin as Katherine stepped onto the balcony, a thin robe draped loosely over her shoulders, barely tied at her waist. Her skin still glowed with the aftermath, her thighs tingling from Brian's mouth.

Brian joined her a moment later, his shirt only half-buttoned, a tumbler of whisky in his hand. He placed his palm on her waist, grounding her in silent ownership.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

She smiled faintly, her eyes fixed on the darkness beyond. “Mmm.”

They stood in silence, shoulder to shoulder, the city’s hush folding around them like a dark velvet shroud.

Then, a soft creak next door.

Lucy stepped out barefoot onto the stone tiles, wearing nothing but a long T-shirt that barely reached mid-thigh. Her hair fell messily around her shoulders, and her arms were wrapped around herself, despite the warmth of the night. Vulnerable. Claimed.

Alex followed, pausing in the doorway before stepping out beside her.

For a moment, the four of them just looked.

Katherine’s gaze found Lucy’s first, a polite smile brushing her lips, automatic, insincere. Lucy returned it with shy uncertainty, leaning subtly into Alex’s side.

Brian noticed her then, eyebrows lifting. "She's young," he whispered a little too loudly in her ear, a chuckle behind his words. "Dirty old man if ever I saw one."

Katherine’s mouth curled faintly. “She’s confident,” she said softly, though her tone carried something darker.

Brian chuckled again. “So’s her man.”

But Katherine didn’t reply. Her attention was elsewhere, locked on Alex.

Across the way, Lucy leaned in toward Alex, whispering, “That’s her… the noisy one.”

Alex didn’t lie. His voice was calm. “Guess so.”

Lucy studied Katherine a moment longer, then whispered, almost to herself, “She’s… beautiful.”

Alex nodded once. “She is.”

Lucy didn’t ask more, but she shifted closer to him, her body pressing lightly against his side in a silent, possessive gesture. Or was it curiosity? Or the flicker of something territorial she didn’t yet understand? 

Katherine saw it. Felt it. And held Lucy’s gaze longer this time, unblinking.

Then Alex’s eyes met Katherine’s.

And the moment stretched, taut as a wire.

No smile. Not yet.

Just a silent exchange—a narrowing of his eyes, the faint lift of her chin.

You heard me, her gaze whispered.

You answered, he replied.

Finally, the faintest curve touched his lips, small and real.

Alex reached out, brushing Lucy’s shoulder with gentle fingers. “Cold?” he asked softly.

She shook her head, eyes distant. “Just thinking.”

He held the door open for her, guiding her back inside with the quiet authority of a man who had already decided what came next. As Lucy slipped into the glow of the room, he cast one last look across the balcony.

Katherine didn’t move. Didn’t break eye contact.

Brian’s hand slid along her lower back, his touch warm but heavy. “Shall we?” he murmured.

She didn’t answer.

But she didn’t resist as he guided her back inside, the sliding glass door closing behind them with a soft, final hush.

Outside, the breeze fell still.

And in the silence that followed, only the echo of what they'd given the night before remained. 

Room 210 – Katherine

Morning light sliced through the hotel curtains in narrow slivers, fractured by the folds of heavy drapery that barely shifted in the stale air. Katherine stirred, her cheek pressed into a pillow that no longer held the warmth of another body. For a moment, she kept her eyes closed, clinging to the lie of the sheets. Pretending he was still there. That the soft ache on her inner thigh wasn't just a phantom memory.

But silence has a way of telling the truth.

She opened her eyes slowly.

The room hadn’t changed, but everything within it had.

A dull ache between her thighs reminded her of the night before. Of Brian inside her. Of his mouth coaxing cries from her lips, loud enough to carry beyond these walls. Loud enough for Alex to hear. That was why she had arched her back, let her voice fill the room—not just for her pleasure, not for Brian’s praise.

For Alex and only him. But now Brian. He was gone.

No note on the bedside table. No tea steaming by the television. Not even a damp towel from his shower was draped across the rail as if he had never been here at all.

She sat up slowly, knees curling to her chest, the sheet falling away to pool around her hips. Her spine curved forward, her hair falling like a curtain around her face as she pressed it into her knees. Not crying. Not yet. Just breathing.

He left before I woke, as if I were something completed. Something used.

The thought settled in her chest with the heavy certainty of cooled wax. Not sharp. Just solid. Immovable.

She exhaled and looked toward the balcony. The door was open, the curtain shifting in the breeze. Outside, the city was stirring: early traffic and distant voices. But the sound she strained for, a door next door, a voice, his voice… never came.

She rose, letting the sheet slide from her body without thought. Her skin bore faint bruises of teeth and fingers along her hips and thighs. She looked down at them, not flinching. Not ashamed.

Last night had been hers. Her defiance. Her declaration.

But as she tied her robe loosely at her waist and stepped out onto the balcony, the air pressed warm and heavy against her chest. She rested her elbows on the rail and looked across the gap.

The balcony opposite was empty. Curtains drawn tight. No movement. No sign of life.

Katherine searched for some flicker of him through the parted fabric. No laugh from the girl. No footsteps across the tiles. No murmured words.

But in her mind, she could see them. Lucy curled in the sheets, hair a dark halo of sleep-tangled waves. Alex beside her, his hand splayed possessively across her hip, his mouth pressed to her ear, whispering soft praise.

He stayed for her.

The truth settled cold in Katherine’s chest. Not jagged. Just… final.

Her body had been filled last night. Her cries had been heard. But her soul… it still waited. Unseen. Unclaimed. Unwanted.

She closed her eyes against the morning glare, letting the memory of her voice echo back through her bones—raw, open, desperate for an answer she never received.

Room 211

Lucy lay curled against Alex's side, one bare leg draped over his thigh; her breathing was soft and rhythmic, her lips parted in sleep. Alex had been awake for an hour, staring up at the ceiling, one arm behind his head, the other resting loosely across her hip.

He felt… sated. But not settled.

He replayed the sounds of the night before. Not Lucy’s sweet, unpractised moans. Not her shivering sighs as she broke apart beneath him.

Katherine’s.

The deep, unguarded cry that had carried through the night, echoing off stone and glass until it reached him. The way her voice cracked when she came. The fleeting glance across the balcony afterwards, their eyes meeting in silence that said more than any whisper.

Lucy stirred beside him, nuzzling her cheek against his chest with a sleepy smile. Her hand slid down, brushing him softly. “Mmm… morning.”

“Morning,” he said, brushing her hair back.

She blinked up at him. “God, I feel sore.”

“Good sore?”

She stretched languidly, her thigh pressing tighter against his hip. “The best kind.”

Her voice carried sleepy pride. Contentment. Completion.

He kissed her forehead gently. Soft. Automatic.

But he didn’t feel finished.

His thoughts slipped back across the balcony, unbidden, to Katherine. To the faint shape of her robe in dawn light, the way her hair might fall around her face now, hiding her expression, to the hollow silence that waited where her voice had been.

Lucy’s hand slid beneath the sheets, curling around him with a sleepy giggle. “God… doesn’t this ever get soft?” she whispered, half-amused, half-awed.

She slipped under the blankets and took him into her mouth, warm and eager. He closed his eyes, letting her lips work him slowly.

But in his mind, he saw Katherine.

Standing at the balcony rail. Eyes half-closed against the morning light. Wondering if she was thinking of him.  

She was.

He needed to see her, even for a moment.

Room 210 – Katherine

She dressed in silence.

Every movement was careful and deliberate, not born of calm, but of emptiness. There was no urgency. No eyes watching. No one to hurry for or impress. The soft zip of her dress cut through the quiet like a blade, louder than it had any right to be.

The bed lay unmade, its sheets twisted and rumpled. The other side remained untouched since dawn.

At the mirror, she smoothed her hair, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. Her gaze caught itself, holding for a moment longer than she intended. There was no lipstick to fix, no mascara smudged under her eyes. Just the face of a woman who had wanted connection, recognition, maybe affection, and woke to find only silence.

Her fingers lingered on the door handle.

She glanced back once. Not at the bed, nor the discarded robe curled like abandoned skin on the carpet. But at the balcony curtain, half-stirred by the morning breeze.

He hadn’t come to say goodbye. Not even to look.

She opened the door and left without leaving anything behind.

Room 211 – Alex

He stepped onto the balcony just as Katherine’s door clicked shut.

Only the faint echo of her footsteps remained, fading into the hush of morning.

Behind him, Lucy still lay tangled in the sheets, her hair a dark halo against white pillows, her body stretched with sleepy satisfaction. She belonged to the room now, warm, content, his.

But Alex’s eyes stayed fixed on the space across the rail. The balcony where Katherine had once stood, naked except for her robe and the quiet ache she carried in her chest.

She hadn't waited and hadn't called. She simply… left.

His palms pressed hard against the cool metal railing, knuckles whitening as his jaw tightened. 

He’d heard her go. 

Now the room felt too full with Lucy’s quiet breathing. And emptier than he could stand.

-------------------------- to be continued --------------------------------------