Crash

Teach me

Everything happened so fast. Penelope's fingers fumbled with the hotel key card as Charles kissed her, pushing her back firmly against the door. The two of them practically fell inside as the lock finally clicked open, the key card landing on the floor, forgotten. She was already so high off the win that every touch from him sent her into overdrive.

"Please," she whimpered, his mouth moving down her collarbone. "I need you, please."

Charles seemed to hear her. Slowly, he began to undress her, taking his time as though every added inch of her skin he got to touch was a privilege. Every jolt of pleasure or fevered kiss made her want him more. Desperate, her fingers moved to his waistband, but Charles had other plans. His hands locked around her wrists, pinning her arms so she couldn't move.

"Relax" he breathed, lowering her backwards until he was on top of her, their noses millimetres apart. "Let me do the work tonight."

He kissed her, long and tender, but there was something hungry there too. His fingers still moved slowly, applying pressure in all the places that he knew made her squirm. She gasped as he moved lower, kissing the soft skin of her inner thighs. Her breathing came in ragged gasps as he moved higher, her nails digging into the mattress, crying out. The louder she moaned, the faster he moved, desperate to please her.

"Charles," she begged, her heart racing. "Don't stop."

"Tell me what you want," he instructed. "I want to hear you say it."

Her mind was so scrambled that it was hard to form words. Every time she tried to talk, all she could manage was a moan, but she knew what she wanted. She tilted his face upwards, pulling him back upwards so he was hovering over her again, her nails digging into the muscles rippling down his back. 

"You," she managed, kissing him as she pulled him as close to her as she could, feeling him press against her. That feeling drove her crazy, almost enough to send her over. "I want you."

He got agonisingly close, holding her there. "Say it again, amore mio."

"Please. I want you. Please."

*************************

The next morning, Penelope found herself alone in the bed when she awoke. In the background, she could hear the gentle hum of the shower, telling her that Charles wasn't far away. As she blinked the sleep from her eyes, she began to take in the mess around her. There were various items of clothing strewn across the room, her skate bag hanging crooked on the door, suitcases piled in the corner. 

Penelope's hair was tangled, she'd forgotten to take her makeup off, and the only item of clothing she was wearing was Charles's dirty T-shirt that was inside out and probably back to front. Still, she felt weirdly at peace. All the pressure she'd been feeling over the past twelve months had lifted off her shoulders when she'd won Nationals, and that felt amazing. Penelope found herself humming as she padded through to the suite lounge, taking it in now she had the time. It was fancy - a bar in the corner, a 70 inch TV, floral arrangements on the counter. The feature that struck her most was the white piano sitting in front of the windows, seeming weirdly out of place even in a hotel as upper class as this. 

Curious, she sat herself down on the stool, lifting the lid to reveal the keys. She pressed various ones in no particular order, creating a jumbled mess of sound that in no way resembled any form of song. 

"Sounds beautiful," Charles said from behind her, smiling to himself. His face was still flushed from last night and his hair was wet, two little strands plastered to his forehead. His arms were bare in the tank he was wearing, and Penelope found herself staring at the shape of his veins, her heartrate increasing as he got closer.