The hotel was all soft shadows and seductive stillness, perched at the edge of the city—just far enough to feel untethered. Elena and Marc checked in for their anniversary, planning nothing more than champagne, silk sheets, and each other.
But plans shifted the moment she walked in.
Isla.
They met her in the dim lounge downstairs—alone, reading by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey untouched at her side. Her smile was slow, knowing. Her voice like smoke and secrets. When Marc went to the bar, she leaned toward Elena.
“Is he the kind who watches?” she asked, lips brushing the rim of her glass.
Elena’s heart stuttered. “He’s the kind who listens when I tell him what I want.”
Later, in the elevator, Elena slipped her hand into Isla’s without a word. Marc said nothing—he didn’t need to. The hunger in his eyes had been growing from the moment Isla laughed.
Inside their suite, the tension broke like a storm.
Isla kissed Elena first, her fingers sliding under her dress with a practiced ease, pulling a moan from her lips before they even reached the bed. Marc sat in the armchair across the room, stroking himself, eyes wide, chest rising fast.
Elena straddled Isla, grinding slowly as their mouths tangled, hips moving in sync, her pleasure echoing off the walls. Then she turned—pulling Marc forward, guiding him behind Isla, his hands gripping her waist, sliding into her inch by inch as she gasped into Elena’s mouth.
It was heady, primal, indulgent. They moved like they belonged together.
Elena lay beneath Isla, tongue teasing her clit while Marc fucked her from behind—deep and slow—his hands tangled with Elena’s as they both made Isla fall apart between them.
Later, they lay tangled in the sheets, breathless and flushed. Marc kissed Isla’s shoulder. Elena traced lazy circles on her thigh.
“Happy anniversary,” she whispered with a wicked grin.
Marc laughed, low and satisfied.
Isla just smiled. “Room for one more… anytime.”