Chasing Heartbreak by Kat T. Masen
KATE
Present
“And so, then he says, what about kids one day?”
Eric’s high-pitched squeal causes me to distance the phone from my ear. With my thoughts focused elsewhere, I think of a reasonable response to calm him down.
“So, he’s thinking about kids? It’s not going to happen tomorrow,” I reassure him while scanning the area of the hotel lobby. “Tristan loves you. Don’t panic over something that isn’t worth panicking about now. You guys just got back together after a long time apart. Slow down and try to enjoy each other’s company.”
“That’s the problem. I’d love to slow down, but Tristan wants to move forward. He’s talking about commitment.”
When it comes to relationships, Eric dreads the ‘C’ word. In ways, I don’t blame him. Not that I’ll openly admit that. Just because it works for some people doesn’t necessarily mean it works for others. I believe we should all set our own rules in life, and conforming to society can only set you up for failure. Different people, different rules, and different relationships.
“Eric,” I repeat, willing to calm him down with my soft tone. “You love him, right? Just follow your gut.”
“My gut has gained ten pounds thanks to his cooking!” Eric’s shrill is enough for me to end our conversation. “I’ll be the laughing stock of Weight Watchers come fall.”
“Stop being dramatic. I have to go,” I tell him, noting the time on the clock on the wall above the concierge desk. “We’ll talk later.”
“You can’t go! And anyway, what are you doing? You’re so secretive these days that for all I know, you’ve joined the Parisian mafia and work undercover as some mob boss.”
“You’ve watched The Godfather way too many times,” I point out to him. “I have some urgent business to take care of tonight. We’ll talk later.”
I press ‘end call’ before he has a chance to say goodbye or quote lines from the movie with his terrible impersonation of Marlon Brando.
Keeping my phone in my hand, I scan the hotel lobby area with a flutter of anticipation in my stomach. A few guests wait patiently to be served by the hotel staff with suitcases beside them, waiting to check-in. Many of the guests are traveling couples looking far from exuberant. Their withered faces appear tired from their travels and accompanied with evident jet lag.
Dressed in my beige coat, which looks rather suspicious in this summer heat, I wore nothing but my newly purchased La Perla black corset beneath it. The fabric of my coat against my bare skin heightens the desire desperate to be fulfilled, causing me to bite my bottom lip to control the urges in this public space.
My Jimmy Choo heels click against the marble tiles while I circle the area like a lost puppy. Rechecking my phone, the screen is crowded with notifications but none of which I need at this moment, including many from Eric with Godfather memes.
I continue to wait for Dominic’s text informing me of his room number and attempt to distract myself with the surroundings. Dominic purposely chooses this hotel each time he visits, wanting a tastefully luxurious boutique hotel that still feels intimate, unlike the bigger hotel chains known for their high-occupancy rate and, therefore, people everywhere.
The hotel is located in the heart of Saint-Germain des Prés and just a short stroll to Notre Dame. It’s a popular choice amongst adults traveling without children, boasting contemporary-styled rooms with a private terrace. I’ve grown fond of the place, but perhaps it’s the memories attached—the secret rendezvous which occurs twice a year whenever Dominic visits Paris.
Behind the closed door, another side of me emerges. No one to judge me for my lifestyle, the way I allow my body to succumb to the one man who I purposely ran from years ago. Just the thought of it sends a warmth throughout me, teasing me between my thighs while I sit here amongst a crowd of people.
The thrill of our encounters has become an addiction, one so hard to break because as long as the secret remains between us, no one else will get hurt.
It’s our rules, our game, and we both win if played right.
Inside my hand, my phone beeps. Glancing down, my eyes wander over the simple text with the number two-one-two. The adrenaline kick starts like an engine ready to roar, and ignoring everyone surrounding me, I make my way to the elevator and up to level two.
When I reach the floor, the room is located in the far west wing. With each step closer, my heart starts to race. My body begins to tingle with an ache only Dominic can conquer. The memory of the touch of his hands against my skin comes to the forefront of my thoughts, making it hard for me to breathe without the slightest of moans.
The door comes closer and closer until I’m standing in front and staring right at it.
Without hesitation, I twist the knob with a hard turn and slowly push the door forward as the dark room engulfs me. Every fiber of my being is vibrating with excitement running through my veins and manipulating my mind to succumb to all its fantasies.
Turning around, I close the door slowly and face it for a brief moment, taking a deep breath to control myself until hands place themselves on my shoulders, sliding my coat off my barely covered skin.
The room is dead silent, all but the sound of his heavy breathing mimicking the hunger of a wolf eyeing its prey. With every exhale, I close my eyes and listen to his desires being played out through these delectable sounds.
Beneath the coat, the new corset is half leather, half lace. The black fabric barely covers my erect nipples caused by a sweep of cold air from the air conditioning, hardening them to a delicious ache.
Slowly, he presses me against the door, his usual greeting, which I’ve grown to crave. Resting the tip of his index finger on my cheek, he gently glides it down past my cheekbone and the sensitive part of my neck. Closing my eyes, I savor each feeling, allowing my senses to completely take over.
He applies more pressure, pressing me against the door while he cups my chin.
“I’ve been waiting,” he whispers into my ear, grazing his teeth along my lobe. “Fantasizing about every single thing I’m going to do to you.”
“Show me,” I demand, straightening my posture to invite my dominant persona back into our sick and twisted game. “Show me what you want.”
Placing his hands on my shoulders, he swiftly turns me around, so our bodies are face to face. His naked torso teases me in the shadows—a perfect chest sculpted from his rigorous workout routine. I ache to run my hands down, graze each ab with the slightest of touch but know he wants it hard and fast for our first fuck.
His knee jerks my thighs opens, and raising my arms to rest against the door, he enters me without warning, causing me to gasp as my breath catches in my throat.
With each thrust, his rigid and controlled body pushes in deeper. Arching my neck, my voice is trapped inside, willing to be hidden the way he likes it. Dominic isn’t like any other man I’ve been with, begging to scream their names while in the throes of passion.
He demands dead silence.
Only the sound of his cock entering my wet arousal echoes in the room. I crave the sound—the louder it gets, the more I become closer to exploding around him.
Pressing his palm against my neck, I lift my gaze toward the ceiling, closing my eyes and allowing the sensations to burst through me like a rampant storm. But I’m teetering on the edge, barely holding on, every inch of me sensitive to his touch, and the darkness from my eyes being shut becomes a burst of light.
I’m coming undone, the warm sensation swelling into a blissful wave crashing into me. My breathing is uneven, and without a moment to calm myself, he removes himself with urgency and pushes me to my knees to suck him off. My lips wrap around the tip of his cock, sucking him clean until there’s nothing left but the sound of his heaving pants echoing inside the hotel room.
In silence, we move toward the bed, the same way we’ve always done, and once again, he demands me to get on all fours for more, but this time, he urges me to instruct him what to do, our roleplaying only adding to the frenzy unleashing between us.
Every step, every motion, he demands my direction like a puppet being guided on strings. I’ve learned to listen to my body, void myself of any emotions, and experience sex how Dominic has taught me. Just like in his club, we all chase a fantasy, and mine is coming to life with a man who knows exactly what I need.
I dominate the boardroom, and now, I’ll dominate the bedroom exactly the way I want it.
But shortly after I demand he lower himself and finish me off with his tongue, my mind goes completely blank as the second burst of lights flashes before my eyes, and the tidal wave soars through me with such intensity.
Lowering my head, my hands begin to shake, threatening my whole body to collapse on the bed. Breathing in and out, I shuffle toward the pillow and turn myself around, falling onto my back while catching my breath.
Dominic joins me, pulling out a cigarette from the bedside table and lighting it a few moments later. The first time he did this, I didn’t care for the smell. But smoking in Paris is welcomed, and over time, I’ve grown accustomed to it.
The two of us lay in silence. My eyes begin to droop from exhaustion, and rightfully so, I allow them a moment’s rest to build my stamina and strength for a few more hours of raw sex.
Yet, something is off. My head doesn’t want to relax, almost as if it can sense a storm in the horizon warning me to buckle down and prepare myself. I blame the stress, the nonstop hours I have been working, and the insider-trading debacle which has become a greater issue than we first suspected.
Even my normal sleep routine has been interrupted. I struggle of late to fall asleep without sleeping aids or a glass of wine. For the most part, I ignore the warning signs, but in this very moment, something is pressuring me to pay attention.
My eyes spring open, the voices unable to shut down. The room is dark, but a small ray of sunshine peeks through the violet drapes. Suddenly, thirst consumes me. Beside me, I open the water bottle and take a long-winded sip. When I finish, I notice Dominic staring at the ceiling. Much like me, he appears bothered by thoughts. His cigarette has been extinguished beside him, and although it would be right of me to ask if he’s okay, I instantly remember our rules.
I fall back onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling until he clears his throat. It was always bound to happen, his ending of our affair due to his marriage, and I’m certain he’s about to say just that. I prepared myself for it a long time ago, removed any emotions harbored, and selfishly prioritized my sexual needs. Dominic fits into my life with convenience. I don’t have time for a partner, and work will always be my number one priority.
I experience love in various forms, but life without it is perfectly fine. There’s no one to demand my attention and no one to worry about beside myself.
It’s the way I set my life up, and nothing will change that.
And so, I mentally prepare myself for his final parting—his exit out of our tryst.
“Kate,” he begins with a despairing tone while looking down onto the pristine sheets. He crosses his arms with a pensive expression. “Things aren’t working with Allegra.”