Night 4: Found Me, Fucked Me

This is part of The Noughty Nest: A Sultry Escapes Series. Start with Night 1 for the full experience.

Night 4: Found Me, Fucked Me

Last night, before we said goodnight...

"Not here," he whispered. "Not like this."

And I don't want our first time to be here in the bathroom"

"You deserve a real moment. Not a stolen one."

I nodded.

Still flushed. Still throbbing. Still tasting him on my lips.

"Camila's going on a tour tomorrow," I said.

"I'm not going. Not interested."

"What time do you work?"

"Ten."

That was enough.

If she actually left by 9, and I let him know in time... we could have a moment.

A real one.

"Text me if she goes," he said.

"And I'll come."

This morning...

I woke up a little after 8:15 a.m.

Sunlight slid through the curtain like an invitation.

Camila was already up, fixing her hair, getting her bag together.

She didn't ask if I wanted to come.

She knew I wouldn't.

By 8:30, the room was quiet again.

And I was texting him.

She's gone.

I put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, so housekeeping knows not to come in.

But I just heard someone in the hallway--my cleaner maybe?--talking. I'm nervous.

Marko:

Unlock the door.

My heart was pounding.

I unlocked it.

But then I panicked.

I thought I locked it back.

I turned toward the bed--trying to calm my nerves, trying to breathe.

I hadn't expected this rush of adrenaline.

Voices were still echoing faintly in the hallway.

What if someone saw him?

I hovered near the edge of the mattress, debating whether to text him to wait--

But it was too late.

Click.

The door opened.

He was already inside.

Quiet. Confident.

And fully dressed for work.

Marko.

He didn't say a word.

Just walked straight over.

Kissed me.

Hard.

Hungry.

Like he'd waited all night for this.

His hands moved to his belt.

Undoing it slowly as he watched me.

"I only have a little time..."

"But I need to feel you again."

His shirt came off.

Then his pants.

And I--

I was already throbbing again.

The last thing I saw before everything blurred was his smile...

Because he knew--

This time?

There was no one to interrupt us.

He started slow.

T-shirt still on. Calvin Klein boxers hugging his hips.

I was in just my black nightdress and panties.

We kissed--deep, slow, our tongues sword-fighting like always.

Then I straddled him.

His hand slid beneath my panties--

"I was soaked--dripping for him."

He smeared it across my lips.

Kissed me harder.

Then slid two fingers into my mouth.

"Taste yourself," he groaned.

"Mmm... sweet. Just like I thought."

I moaned against his knuckles, sucking slow.

Then he pulled my panties aside.

His cock, thick and long, found the perfect angle--

Spoon position.

He slid in, inch by inch, deep and steady.

"Fuck me harder," I begged.

"I want to feel it in my soul."

He did.

Kissed me. Fucked me. Spoke to me.

"You're so fucking wet for me."

"Say my name when you cum."

My lips parted, my body still pulsing around him.

"Marko--fuck--Marko."

"Louder."

I locked eyes with myself in the mirror--

saw the way he split me wide open--

and let it out, wild and unfiltered:

"MARKO--FUCKING POLO!"

He paused.

Growled into my neck--then laughed, just once.

That deep, damn-you're-bad kind of laugh that made my orgasm ricochet.

But he didn't stop.

"That's right," he whispered, cock still buried.

"You found me."

Then he moved.

Fast. Hungry.

One arm under my ass, the other pressed firm to my back--

he lifted me.

Like I weighed nothing.

My legs wrapped around his waist, still stuffed full of him.

"You found me," he said again, voice rough.

"Now don't let go."

He pinned me to the mirror.

The glass was cold.

His chest was hot.

And my pussy?

A fucking waterfall.

"You got a taste... now be a good boy and eat."

And Marko?

He feasted.

Licked between my thighs like it was his last meal.

Stopped to kiss my thighs. Then my clit.

Added a finger. Then two.

He whispered filth.

Asked for mine.

I gave it.

"You ever had two men?"

"No... but would you?"

"Whatever your fantasy is--I'll make it real."

I came. Hard.

Then I slid down his body and pulled the head of his cock free.

Beautiful. Clean. Already leaking.

I sucked him slow.

Licked the shaft. Cupped his balls.

He moaned like I was the only prayer he knew.

"Fuck. Anna, I'm your bitch."

I climbed back on top.

Bounced on his dick like I owned it.

He grabbed my jaw.

Slid two fingers in my mouth.

"Suck them."

"Show me how nasty you are."

I did.

"Mouth full. Pussy stuffed."

"Just how my nasty girl likes it."

His fingers rubbed my clit as I rode him.

And then--he flipped me.

Now he was on top.

He slid in deep and slow.

Then pulled out just far enough to spit--

A direct hit on my clit.

As he continue rubbing my clit.

He bent me over--

kissed my spine slow--

and whispered in my ear:

"This is my favorite position."

I barely had time to react before he anchored me--

half on the bed, half suspended off it.

His strong arms lifted my hips,

my legs pulled to the side so wide and sudden

I might as well have been in restraints.

No ropes.

No cuffs.

Just control.

He locked my body in a perfect hog-tie without a single knot.

And when he slid in from behind--

deep, slow, deliberate--

my bodyvibrated.

So much I actually looked up at the wall--

Was that the ship docking?

Nope.

Just Marko.

Fucking me with the force of a damn engine room.

My mouth opened in a gasp I couldn't even finish.

This guy is a fucking pornstar.

And lucky for him?

I've always been porn-ready.

He didn't rush.

He took his time--

thrust after thrust--

each one slamming into me like he wanted to leave a mark.

Like heneededto.

He gripped my neck with one hand,

rubbed my clit with the other,

and kept that pace--

until I unraveled on him.

"You feel so fucking good," he groaned.

"Look how you cream on me--fuck, baby, that's all mine."

I could barely breathe--

his thumb wrecking me from the outside

while his dick owned everything inside.

My legs shook.

My pussy clamped around him.

I was spiraling.

And just when I thought I might pass out?

The alarm went off.

"Shit..." he cursed, still buried inside me.

"I would've fucked you endlessly if I didn't have to go in."

"I'll be horny thinking of you all damn day."

He kissed my shoulder--soft, reverent--

then pulled out slowly, letting the moment linger.

"When we're alone, on vacation?"

"I'll fuck you until the sun gives up."

I needed a shower.

Not because I was dirty.

But because I'd been undone--completely.

Marko had given me orgasm after orgasm, each one folding into the next until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

And yet...

He never came.

He washed up at the sink, quiet and calm, slipping back into his uniform while I lay breathless on the sheets. Still trembling. Still soaking.

"As long as you're satisfied," he said with a soft smile, brushing my thigh. "That's all I need."

That man...

He fucked like sin but loved like a secret.

Slow. Patient. Focused.

Like every moan I made was his prize.

And me?

I was ruined.

Because he knew how to fuck, but more than that--he knew restraint.

He was hard the whole time.

Hungry.

But disciplined.

We'd gone for over an hour--easy.

No rush. No pressure.

Just pleasure.

Mine.

And now, under the pulse of hot water, I traced every ache with my fingers.

Each sore spot was a memory.

Each pulse between my legs, a reminder.

"You're experienced," he'd whispered when I gripped him tighter and told him how I wanted it.

If only he knew.

I'm the one who built the Noughty Nest.

And somehow, he made me feel like I was discovering pleasure for the first time.

Not long after Camila returned from her tour, we had lunch on the deck--just casual chatter, the sun warming our skin. We were mid-conversation with a lovely older couple when Rachel--Jim's wife--appeared out of nowhere.

"Another late night, Anna?" she asked, smiling in that way that meant anything but friendly.

I didn't respond.

But Camila was ready to leap.

"I'm going to guest services," she snapped once Rachel walked off. "This is harassment."

And she was right.

But all I could think was...

Would this bring Marko into the spotlight?

We'd worked too hard to be discreet.

I didn't want whispers.

And I definitely didn't want consequences for him.

I knew we needed to slow it down--at least for now.

And then it got stranger.

Later that afternoon, our cleaner knocked.

It wasn't unusual--he'd been by before, offering towels or fresh linen.

But this time?

"Hi... do either of you need anything? Just wanted to check. Also... who's Anna? And who's Camila?"

That was new.

The towel exchange was routine.

But names?

I told him, trying to keep it casual.

But something about it left me unsettled.

Later, I asked Marko if his roommate was our cleaner.

"No," he replied. "Definitely not him."

So who was asking?

And why now?

I didn't have the answer.

But I had my answer for us.

We needed to cool it.

We didn't meet up that night.

No kiss.

No heat.

Just space.

We texted--briefly.

Something spicy. Always charged.

I missed him, of course I did.

His kiss. His voice. His eyes.

But for once, I let my mind win over my body.

It was the right thing to do.

Even if every inch of me still ached for him.