‘It was just a one-time thing anyway.’
‘It was?’
Cat studied her.
‘One thing led to another…’
Cat knew she was lying.
‘On a Saturday morning? The night after you and I had–’
‘Shhh …’
Anastasia silenced Cat with a slow and sumptuous kiss.
Cat pulled back.
‘Why are you here?’
‘Well, firstly, this is my father’s hotel…’
Cat gave her a look.
‘You know what I mean…’
Why did Anastasia desire her so much? She could never understand it.
Anastasia propped herself up and pushed Cat’s shoulder gently so she rolled onto her back. She lowered the white sheet that enveloped her.
‘Because I’m crazy for you,’ Anastasia said, nuzzling into Cat’s neck with a kiss. ‘Your pussy…’
Cat groaned. Anastasia continued to dot kisses down Cat’s decolletage, to her breasts, rounded and buoyantfrom blissful passion. ‘Your talent…’ she said, sucking one nipple with a gentle flick. Cat opened her legs out again and stretched her toes. ‘You’re an artist.’
Cat blushed.
‘And you know what I want to do?’
‘What?’ Cat teased.
‘Next time, I don’t want to fuck you in Papa’s hotel.’
Next time.
Cat wasn’t doing very well at ending it.
Next time.
‘Where do you want me?’
‘I want to make you come in that kitchen of yours.’
Anastasia rolled on top of Cat and paid attention to her other nipple, circling it with her soft tongue.
‘First course, on the worktop,’ she said, not breaking eye contact as she sucked, then lowered herself down to Cat’s belly button.
‘Second course…’ she kissed her stomach. ‘On that beautiful Persian rug in the entrance.’
Cat groaned.
