14. Rolf
CHAPTER 14
ROLF
T he room I reserve is dark and elegant with satin sheets covering the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. There’s enough space for a wild affair but when the door closes there are only three bodies in a room and three sets of hands that can't seem to move fast enough.
We’re almost naked before we reach the bed. I’m so eager, I nearly trip over my feet when my pants drop to the floor. Karl’s shirt lands in a careless pile, joining my own. Zoe’s lips part with the kind of exhale that leaves a man drunk and helpless. Her bra is lace and satin, and I pull her into me, more urgently than I mean to, savoring the sound of her pulse against my own.
Zoe pushes me against the wall with playful force, and my hand tangles in her hair as I bite back a moan. She focuses on me with the precision of a surgeon, fingers making new memories of my body. It’s dizzying to be wanted this way, her confidence filling all the spaces of our anticipation. When she moves, she doesn’t even look back to ensure we follow her. But of course, we do.
I press my lips against her shoulder, tasting her bare skin, her clean scent. My mouth trails down her arm as the light overhead catches her curves and angles. She’s twenty-three but looks like a timeless temptation I can hardly stand. My god, she feels like art, like poetry, a promise wrapped in silk and lace. I grip her waist and inhale the closeness of her. Her kisses are fire, and they melt the space between us. My whole being vibrates with the gravity of her. She feels like she’s already ours.
Zoe breathes against my chest, and I see her intent, see the way she’s already mapped the next minute and the next. The heat from her skin spills over mine. It’s molten, unrelenting, as her mouth drops kisses down the length of me.
And Karl.
I feel him before I see him, the shape of his presence pulling into ours. A soft moan escapes her as his arms wrap around, and she tilts her head, lets him leave his own marks along her neck, teeth and stubble brushing her collarbone. She presses back into him, eyes closed in perfect bliss, and her confidence is contagious. The arch of her back is all I need to see—so much desire.
Karl’s attention moves down her spine, hands taking their time, savoring every inch of bare skin. Her last shred of fabric, a short black skirt, slips lower, pooling at the floor, and I catch her chin, force her to see what she is doing to us. She is exquisite, impatient, an angel or maybe a devil, and there’s nothing I can do but give myself to it, to her, to us.
Zoe returns every kiss, her full lips staining my skin pink, marking me the way I long to mark her. The tempo of her touch matches the rhythm of her breath, and I watch her turn to Karl with an energy that defies explanation. She slides to her knees and lifts her chin, her gaze shifting between the two of us.
Her fingers slip beneath his waistband and it’s his turn to moan. She takes her time with him, deliberate and skilled, slow enough that I’m aching for her to come back. He leans back, lips parted in surrender, eyes half closed, the intensity of it leaving him breathless. Zoe is a marvel of precision and perfection, touching and pulling and working every corner of his restraint. Her mouth leaves marks on his chest and shoulders that match the marks she left on me. His gasp sounds like victory and defeat, everything all at once, the taut control of a man who is about to break in the best possible way.
“Rolf,” she breathes, her eyes on me even as her hand moves over Karl. “Karl. God, I want both of you.”
There’s no hesitation, no question about what we are doing and why. My pulse roars and my vision tunnels, focus collapsing to this second, this touch, the shape of her, and anticipating the sound of her release.
I pull her back to me with the force of a collapsing star, letting gravity do its work, the speed of my breath catching up to the speed of my need.
She laughs, surprised and delighted, the warmth of it more intimate than anything yet. My fingers are everywhere at once, exploring the small of her back, the arch of her ribs, the warmth of her skin. She twists with a dexterity that leaves me in awe, one arm reaching to draw Karl back in, fingers pulling him closer, insisting. Her hunger for us is delicious. She devours with both hands, never breaking eye contact with me.
Zoe pushes us onto the bed, ravenous and unrepentant, and the collision of body against body is as beautiful as I thought it would be, as unpredictable and natural and feral as art. She straddles me, hair tumbling over her eyes. Her touch is precise and burning, and I let it consume me, the heat spilling over everything. Zoe exudes life without limitation or compromise. She pivots, finds Karl’s mouth again, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. He takes advantage of her distraction, rolls her to his side, and we’re one impossible shape, indistinguishable in the tangle of limbs and devotion.
Our simultaneous gasps fill the dark silence.
When she finally says I love you, it’s like air.
Karl and I collapse into it, the three of us making declarations that were already written. The room goes electric with future and possibility, and I swear I’ve never been this alive.