Chapter Seven
Mari
I’m sore, which makes me smile before I even open my eyes.
That delicious ache reminds me of exactly what happened last night – and then again in the early hours of this morning after we filled our bellies with soup – and despite the mild discomfort, I’m ready to go again.
I was serious about extending my trip, but even another week with Roos doesn’t feel like it will be enough.
Her body is already curled up against me, her spine curved, and her knees tucked up against my side while her head rests on my arm.
I roll over so I can wrap myself around her, and I start to kiss her neck, just under the silk wrap she has tied up over her hair.
When my teeth graze up to her earlobe, she finally starts to stir.
“What time is it?” she asks in the most adorably throaty voice.
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
“You want to fuck again?” Roos asks when she feels me rock my hips into her.
“Something like that.”
“Could you…” She lifts her head to look at me questioningly. “Could you be in charge this time? And maybe fuck me while I just lie here sleepily?”
I catch her drift immediately. “Do you want to pretend you’re asleep, even?”
“Yes.” She bites her lip. “Yes, that’s what I want. I want you to use me. But wait…”
“What?” I prompt as she drifts off.
“I may need a vibrator. To get me off. I find it hard to get hard in the mornings sometimes.”
“Okay,” I say with a soft smile. “Where do I find that?”
“In my top drawer there.” She gestures to the bedside table.
“I can do that, and while I do, remind me of your safe word,” I say as I stretch behind me to find a vibrator and some lube. The vibe is pink and silicone and I hold it up for her to confirm it’s the right one, which she does with a nod.
“My safe word is Monarch,” she says, still not sounding very sure of herself.
“And mine is paparùda,” I say as I slip my arm out from under Roos’ head. “Now go back to sleep, pretty girl. Let me take what I want.”
Roos dutifully closes her eyes as she rolls onto her back, but before she stills, she throws the covers off her body so I can see her slim physique spread out in front of me.
Wearing just knickers and a baby pink cotton vest top with lace straps, I love how exposed she already is for me, and I itch to touch her breasts, lick my way down her slightly protruding ribs, kiss the peak of her jutting hipbones.
But I’m also overcome with my own desire, and I am very aware of how little patience I have.
. I want to rub and writhe against her until it makes me cry because fuck, I feel good.
I feel so good in Roos’ bed. I feel like I’m waking up from a deep sleep, a hibernation that I don’t even recall falling into.
Besides, maybe we’ll have more time. Today, and maybe tomorrow, and next week. If Mum is okay with me staying here a little longer, maybe I can have more nights like this with Roos.
I squeeze some lube into the palm of one hand.
I use my other to pull down the shorts Roos lent me, and then I lower the waistband of Roos’ knickers enough so I can see her.
She’s perfectly proportioned, and the rosiest shade of pink, and I waste no time rubbing the lube on her, making her wet and ready for me, before applying what lube is left to myself.
I keep my eyes on Roos’ face as I throw a leg over her body and get in position.
“Such a good girl, sleeping so deeply for me,” I say in little more than a whisper. Her lips twitch, but she composes herself instantly, eyes remaining closed. I place my hands on either side of her head and lean down so she can feel my breath on her face. “I’m going to fuck you so good.”
“Hmm,” she moans before biting down on her lip as if to silence herself. She can’t see my smug smile, not that I would hold it back if she could.
Keeping my touch as light as I can, I straddle one of her lean thighs.
“I hope you’re having sweet dreams, pretty girl,” I say as I start to move. “I hope you’re dreaming of me fucking you like I am right now. Nice and slow. Using your beautiful body to get myself off.”
I try to keep my pace steady and my strokes long and slow, but it’s damn near impossible.
My cunt is on fire, and I can’t get enough of her creamy soft skin.
I didn’t lie when I told Roos yesterday that sometimes I really like having a cunt, and this precise moment in time, that has never been truer.
As I ride Roos and rock my hips so each downward motion drags a blissful second of friction over my clit, I feel overwhelmed with an energy I can’t help but suspect is the divine feminine.
As if to embrace this, I throw off the T-shirt Roos gave me last night – one I secretly want to keep because it’s very cool – and I start to play with my breasts.
“Am I naked in your dreams, Roos?” I ask her as I continue to fuck her leg. “Can you see my big, full breasts? Do you want to touch them? Do you want to play with my nipples, feel how hard and tight they are for you?”
“Oh, fuck.” Roos bites down on her lip again, but still she keeps her eyes closed like a very good sleepy submissive. I drop one of my hands to cradle her face as if giving her a reward for her discipline.
“You’re being such a good girl,” I say, my breath hitching now as I continue to pluck at my nipple and rock up and down on Roos.
With my other hand, I pick up the vibe and turn it on.
“You stay sleeping while I fuck you. Letting me use you, letting me take what I want from you. When you wake up, I’ll show you my breasts.
I’ll let you play with them. I’ll let you lick and kiss and suck them. ”
“Yes, hmm.” Roos’s eyes squeeze shut like she has to do it to stop them from opening.
“But right now, while you’re sleeping, I’m going to play with you, pretty girl.
” I bring the vibrator between her legs.
I roll it over the tip of her and her whole body twitches.
“I’m going to touch you and tease you until you can’t take anymore.
I’m going to play with your beautiful breasts until your nipples are hard and ready for my mouth.
And then I’m going to suck them, lick them, bite them while you make me come so hard.
And then…” I bite one of Roos’ nipples through the cotton of her top.
“Then I’m going to take you in my mouth and eat you until you come for me. ”
Roos doesn’t even try to hold back her moan, and the pressure in my clit is just too much, just that bit too sore that I can’t hold back.
I lean over, suck on one of Roos’ nipples, and grind myself down on her until I’m coming so hard I can’t hear anything but my thumping pulse in my ears.
When the aching waves of pleasure calm to a soft pulse, I look at Roos, who has opened her eyes completely now.
“Oh, you’re awake?” I say, although staying in the scene isn’t as easy as I’d like.
“I wanted to watch you,” she says simply.
“Did you like what you saw?” I ask, straightening up but making sure the vibe stays on her.
“Yeah.” Roos’ throat works as she swallows deeply, and one of her hands comes up to cup my face. “I really did.”
My breath stalls. I feel suspended in this moment as the thread of our connection gets tighter, thicker, stronger.
Oh, fuck. I really like this girl.
I’m grateful when I remember she hasn’t come, and so I can focus all my thoughts on that and not how I want to ask Roos if she feels it too.
Does she feel like she’s met somebody she wants to know for longer than a few days or a week?
Does she feel like she’s found something that she didn’t know was missing?
Does she feel like the night we shared has healed a part of her that had been raw and open for far too long?
I kiss the heel of her palm and then slide down her body.
I roll the vibe all around her, watching her closely to know where it makes her shiver the most, which place makes her moan the loudest, and then when she’s writhing so much I think she must be feeling the same sweet ache I was a moment ago, I move the vibe out of the way and take her in my mouth.
All of her. I suck and I lick and I kiss until her hips are wriggling under my hands, her own fingers teasing her nipples.
And when it’s her time, I do the same thing she did.
I watch her orgasm. I watch her, and I can’t deny it anymore: I really, really like what I see.
*****
I’m not surprised that we drifted back to sleep after fucking, but I am surprised how long we sleep. When I wake, the light has changed in Roos’ room, filtering through her curtains, the thick material no match for an autumnal sun that still seems to have something to prove.
As I blink into the daylight of what I suspect is at least noon, if not later, I feel a pang of guilt.
We should be outside. We should be wandering the canals and admiring the foliage.
We should be soaking up what sunshine we can until winter really sets in.
I probably should be making my way to the convention because that is why I came to Amsterdam.
But then I turn to see Roos’ body all curled up, her eyelids flickering in sleep, and I don’t want to go anywhere.
Except I need to pee. Like badly. Like, I should have done it a lot earlier, and now I’m probably risking a bladder infection, so I reluctantly untuck my body from its cocoon around Roos and I tiptoe to the bathroom.
Once finished and with my hands washed, I realise I need a glass of water and something else to eat. It’s been so long since I’ve fucked like this – incessantly and as if the outside world doesn’t exist – and I’m not used to neglecting my other needs.
As I pour myself a glass of water from the tap, drink it in one go, and then refill it, I think about how sorely I’ve missed this kind of connection with somebody.
Apps and a couple of regular fuck buddies over the years haven’t come close.
Yes, they’ve made me come, and they’ve left me satisfied, but I haven’t felt satiated like I do now.
Satiated, filled up, whole, and yet also raring to go again.
Eager to have my hands back on Roos. Keening to watch her come again and again and again.
Even away from the bedroom, as we were cooking in the middle of the night and talking yesterday evening, I felt something I haven’t in a long time.
I haven’t felt this connection, this closeness, this level of easy intimacy since… Lexi.
The doorbell rings, and that startles me out of my thoughts, which I’m grateful for. I walk to the kitchen doorway with a packet of biscuits I found in Roos’ cupboard, and look expectantly in the direction of her bedroom, expecting her to walk sleepily towards me to answer the door.
But she doesn’t emerge.
“Roos?” I call out. Admittedly, it’s not very loud. I sort of don’t want to wake her up, but I also don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
I take a biscuit out of the packet and munch on it as I consider my options. By the time I’ve got the second in my hand, I’ve decided to just ignore the doorbell.
But as if to taunt me for my decision, it rings again, harsh and somehow louder than before.
Glancing again in the direction of Roos’ bedroom, there’s still no movement, not even a sound.
When the doorbell rings a third time, I tut and walk to Roos’ front door, where there’s an old intercom that doesn’t have a screen, but it does have a phone.
Clueless who it is, I press the button with a key on it, and a buzzing sound reverberates from the device.
So I guess they’re inside. Maybe it’s a delivery.
Maybe it’s a neighbour who forgot their key.
I’ve half-convinced myself that whoever it was isn’t going to appear on the other side of the front door, so I walk away from it and return to the kitchen, on a mission to find teabags that are similar to the ones you get at home.
When a loud, clipped rapping at the door fills my ears, I realise this person really does want to see Roos. And yet, Roos is still asleep.
Back at the door, I notice there’s no peephole for me to see who’s on the other side of the door, and that seals my decision. I’m just going to ignore whoever they are and wait for them to disappear.
But that seems to be the last thing on their mind as they start to pound on the door in earnest.
“Roos! Roos!” a muffled voice shouts through the wood of the door. They sound Dutch. They’re saying Roos’ name in the way she did – rolling the r and making the s sound more like a z.
I decide to eat another biscuit as I wait for them to give up, and I realise that I’m learning something else about Roos. She can apparently sleep through anything.
But then the shouting – more Dutch words – and the banging gets too much; it’s ruining my enjoyment of my biscuit. And giving me a headache. Sighing, I turn the lock and open the door quickly, ready to tell this person to fuck off, which I’m confident they’ll understand perfectly.
But I don’t do that. I don’t do anything but stand and stare at the person in front of me.
A ghost.
A ghost from my past. A ghost from my past with long-lashed, dark brown eyes that widen from angry to shocked to terrified. Because, yeah, I guess they’re looking at a ghost too.
But then their expression changes. They’re all thunder and lightning, and despite the different hair, the different body, the unrecognisable clothes, I see them exactly as I remember them from the last time I saw them.
Lexi Williams still hates my guts, and the feeling is absolutely mutual.