I rise on my toes and press my lips to his.
He responds immediately, hands tightening on my waist, pulling me flush against him. The kiss starts soft but doesn't stay that way.
Not tonight.
He lifts me up onto the machine. The metal is cold through my thin sleep shorts. I breathe through it as he tugs me to the edge, thumbs pressing into the soft skin of my inner thighs.
His hard cock strains against his pants.
My fingers fumble with his belt. He helps, shoving everything down just enough. His hand slips between my legs, pushing my panties aside. Two fingers slide through me, and he groans against my neck.
"Always so ready."
"Always." I pull him closer by the back of his neck. "Now hurry. I need you."
There's no buildup tonight.
He pushes inside me in one firm stroke, and my spine arches off the machine. His hand covers my mouth before the sound fully forms, holding it in while he buries himself to the hilt.
"Quiet, Red."
I nod against his palm.
He starts to move—fast and deep, one hand gripping the machine for leverage, the other still clamped over my mouth. My legs lock around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust.
The machine rattles beneath me. His breathing is ragged in my ear. Mine comes in sharp bursts against his fingers.
Euphoric. Electric. Exactly where I'm meant to be.
Until the door opens.
Everything happens in fragments—frozen, yet lightning-fast.
Lotte in the doorway. A forgotten towel in her hands. Her mouth falling open, eyes going wide as she takes in the scene. Me on the machine, Tristan between my legs, his hand over my mouth. The unmistakable position of two people caught in the act.
She opens her mouth to scream.
Tristan moves faster than I've ever seen anyone move.
One second he's inside me. The next he's across the room—one hand over Lotte's mouth, the other catching the door before it swings wide. He pulls her inside and kicks it shut in a single motion.
She claws at his arm. Her legs kick at the wall. Muffled sounds fight against his palm.
Her eyes find mine over his shoulder, begging.
Tristan is eerily calm as he looks down at her. "If I let you go, you walk straight to him and tell him what you saw. By morning, everything I've ever loved will be gone."
Lotte thrashes harder. A guttural sound pushes past his fingers.
"So this isn't personal. You understand that, right? This is just how the numbers work out."
He pauses, glancing at me briefly.
"Actually, I lied." He shrugs. "It's a little personal."
His free hand moves to the other side of her neck.
One sharp twist, and her body goes slack.
