Scarlet Window

And just for a second she wondered who was the afterthought.

Anna--in case he needed an alibi or to soothe his conscience. Because he spent so much time with Marie.

Or her. Because he'd decided on a whim she would need something more--as he had put it--fuckable.

She turned away, letting the assistant ring up all the items.

He paid cash, took the bag and wished the assistant a nice day.

Marie followed him outside in silence, happy to leave the store and the moment behind.

The sun had started to set in the meantime. They hurried back towards the street, where a taxi was already waiting, hazards blinking.

Joshka opened the door for her with a smile.

She hesitated before getting in.

"Where are we going?"

"We still have the SteerCo deck," he said, one hand resting on the car door.

She held his gaze for a moment, then she got inside, letting him close the door before he got around the car and into the other back seat.

He placed the shopping bag between them, arm looping around it until his hand settled on her thigh.

She kept her eyes on the city passing outside the window. The people going on about their lives.

She should be working. The deck still needed a proper review. With Joshka almost never leaving her alone, she couldn't focus anymore.

His fingers brushed idly against her tights as his hand made its way under her skirt. The other hand held his phone, facedown against his leg.

On their first project together she'd admired how he'd taken a slot every evening to talk to Anna. No matter how much was going on, somewhere around dinner he'd taken some time from his busy day to call home.

She told herself that no woman should settle for less.

The past week, he'd called home less--and shorter.

When his phone buzzed again, his nails dug into her thigh before he flinched, relaxing again like he'd meant to grab the phone harder and had simply mixed up his hands.

It made her be grateful she'd put her own phone into flight mode. Meeting Thomas for lunch wouldn't sit well with him. Still talking to Thomas put them both at risk.

The taxi stopped in front of their hotel.

Joshka finished typing a message before he exited, closing the distance on the sidewalk quickly.

By the time they reached the elevators, he had run his hands through hair twice and was scratching against a day's stubble on his jaw. His phone buzzed again.

On the screen, Marie could see the messenger app and Anna's name. She quickly set her eyes back to the floor.

He led her into the elevator, hand at the small of her back, phone back in his coat pocket. With his other hand he lifted the shopping bag.

"Which one first?"

She shifted once, just slightly out of his touch.

"The adjustments to the appendix."

He laughed like she'd made a joke.

"I'm serious, Joshka," she shifted towards the edge of the elevator.

He huffed, a slight smirk spreading on his face. He closed in until his lips were just next to her ear.

"Who says we can't do both?"

"Our deadline."

His hand reached to tilt up her chin. But she refused to meet his gaze.

"Should have made you keep that last one on," he huffed. "It looked so perfect on you."

The elevator doors opened with a ding. "Floor seven."

She stepped out first, ignoring his touch.

He closed in before stepping ahead to open the door for her, opening the door with his app. The light blinked green, lock clicking.

"After you," he said, hand settling on her back.

She stepped inside. The room smelled like the perfect storm of herself, the distinct scent of the hotel--and Joshka.

It was like coming home to find an intruder there. There was no place she had to herself anymore. Not a minute of the day she wasn't in his reach.

The door clicked shut behind them, heavy and final.

With quick steps she aimed for the small table, setting her bag down. They needed to finalize the slides.

But Joshka had other plans. He reached for her coat, taking it slowly.

"Let's relax a bit first," he said, hands roaming over her arms. "Mh?"

"We need to--"

"Later," he said, already pulling her towards the bathroom.

She tried to slip from his grasp as elegantly as possible.

"Joshka."

He chuckled, hands reaching for her hips.

"Work can wait," he stepped behind her, pushing her towards the shower. "You looked so stunning in that black lace."

She turned, pushing his hands away.

"Joshka, no!"

In one fluid motion, he snatched her arm, gripping tight like a vise.

"You do not want to play coy with me, Marie," his voice was barely above a whisper. "You will behave."

Her eyes snapped up. His eyes were dark and piercing, jaw tense.

"Thought so," he hissed, shoving her into the bathroom.

Their clothes hit the floor in silence. She brushed over her arms once, bracing against the cold air in the small space.

He shrugged off his shirt and stepped out of his boxers, cock already half-hard.

He stepped into the shower and turned it on before guiding her inside.

The water was too hot at first but she embraced the sting. Joshka's hands settled on her hips, pulling her back against him.

"Come here."

From the dispenser he took some of the hotel's shower gel, spreading it over her breasts and stomach with soft caresses. His hands roamed, over her skin, soft foam building with every movement. He took his time on her breasts, his chest pressed against her back.

"You're tense," he murmured against her neck.

Her body had locked up the moment he'd pulled her into the shower, no matter how hard she forced herself to relax.

"I think we both learned something in Prague," his hands cupped her breasts.

She felt him hard against her already.

Her eyes closed for a moment. She knew what he wanted.

"I learned not to touch your phone," she whispered.

He hummed against her temple, fingers teasing her nipple.

"Don't you want to ask what I learned, Marie?"

She swallowed. He'd learned not to leave his phone laying around. That using her birthday as a passcode had been stupid. He'd learned that she could fight back in ways he didn't anticipate.

But she couldn't say any of those things.

"What did you learn?" She asked instead.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers twisting her nipple until she flinched from the pain.

"You need it rough," he said, voice thick with triumph. "You need me to take you."

She froze, heart creeping up her throat until it beat in her ears.

"No, Joshka--"

"Let's not waste time pretending," he said. "Your body doesn't lie to me."

One hand was on her hip, the other started sliding up her spine to grip the back of her neck.

"What are--" She didn't get further.

Her chest hit the cold tile. The contrast with the hot water made her gasp loudly.

"Stop it," she demanded, water getting into her eyes and mouth.

He placed himself with the back to the shower, halfway shielding her from the water. Only a fine spray of mist and ricochet droplets reached her now.

One hand left her ass to guide himself. She felt the blunt, insistent pressure of him searching for purchase, aligning the head of his cock along her folds.

"No--" she tried.

His hand tightened on her neck, pressing her cheek against the wall until she could smell the wet grout. The tile was ice against her face and breasts.

"Stop fighting it! You know how this ends."

With a sharp push of his hips, he forced himself inside, impaling her on his cock.

"Joshka--please--" She cried out, palms slipping on wet tile as she tried to brace against the pain. Her hands scratched against the tile, trying to push back. But his hand on her neck held her firm.

"That's better," he growled.

He didn't give her body time to adjust. His hips snapped forward, driving deeper with each brutal thrust, forcing her body to accommodate him.

The stretch seemed to displace the very air in her lungs. The cry that escaped her was raw and strangled, water rushing into her mouth.

He groaned into the back of her neck, a sound of muffled triumph and pleasure as her walls fluttered against the intrusion.

In an attempt to lessen the sting and escape his grip, she lifted onto her toes but it only made the angle sharper.

He held her against the wall, impaled on his cock, turning the shower into a steaming cage where his pleasure was the only thing that mattered.

All she could do was bite her lip until the burn settled into a dull sting.

He thrust harder, the angle nearly driving tears into her eyes. His hips snapped back and forth as he drove his cock into her, rhythm already picking up.

Her body jolted with each movement, cheek scratching over the tiles.

He hadn't given her any time to accommodate his size.

With every push she tried to keep her head from hitting the wall or her cheeks from splitting open from the grout.

It never stopped. Like the space between them had morphed into force and water and friction. To only his cock driving into her and his hands digging in hard enough to bruise.

Before she could stop herself, she let out a soft whimper.

He responded almost immediately, shifting the angle, strokes growing almost punishing.

"There you are," he murmured, lips trailing down her cheek. "This is what you need, isn't it?"

"Stop--" she gasped, trying to bite down the sob that threatened to escape her. She failed. It came out strangled and broken.

With every stroke she could feel the ridges of his cock driving against her sensitive walls. She could feel the impossible stretch around him because still couldn't properly fit his sheer size.

There was no grace to it, only the mechanical grind of his hips and the frantic pulse of the water against the tiles.

She closed her eyes, letting the water run over her. There was no escaping him. Only taking him. Thrust after thrust.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he groaned, hips snapping against hers as he drove into her with a bruising, almost frantic confidence.

She was caged between the wall and his weight, every thrust pushing her hard against the stone.

He adjusted his hold, freeing one hand.

When his fingers found her clit, her knees nearly buckled. But he held her there, inescapable while his fingers worked her in fast circles, teasing until her leg twitched.

Heat sparked along her spine. Real, unwanted heat. He breath hitched as he kept stroking the soft bundle of nerves with maddening precision.

The tension in her legs and core made it worse. As did his cock--claiming her so fully, stroke after stroke that she could feel her walls flutter around him in anticipation.

As if encouraged by her reaction he picked up the pace, every stroke driving her into the wall. Like he'd meant to fuck her through it.

"Yes," he thrust harder, fingers working her clit tirelessly. "Let me feel it."

Her body obeyed traitorously, clenching around him like a vise as though it wanted to keep him there, as her hips twisted. She gasped, swallowing water again.

His fingers sped up, finding her slick and eager despite the water rushing down on them. Her clit pulsed, her own orgasm already building hot and blinding in her thighs.

Her hips twitched once, making his fingers brush directly against the perfect spot. The effect was instant. Her core tensed, heat flooding her.

"You like that?" he groaned against her ear. "Your body wants me like this."

He sped up, cock growing impossibly thicker, stretching her walls.

"No--" she tried, but it turned into a desperate moan.

With a strangled sob, her legs gave.

He caught her, impaled on his cock, one hand holding her upright.

And with the next hard thrust, she broke.

The orgasm ripped through her, her body clenching around his cock in waves she couldn't control. She cried out, the sound echoing off the tile. Her back arched into him, hips chasing the stimulation as her mind screamed in protest.

Her muscles melted while her walls closed around him, desperate for friction and fullness. He fucked her through the first seconds, igniting every nerve in her, until his own rhythm stuttered.

"Fuck, Marie--" he groaned.

He came seconds later, hips snapping against hers, pressing her hard against the tile. She could feel his cock twitch as he spilled inside her with a low moan.

With panicked clenches she kept milking him until she couldn't tell anymore where she ended and he began. The heat kept crashing as he flooded her with his cum. Every muscle screamed for release and tension at the same time.

For a moment, her mind went mercifully blank.

He groaned against her temple, hips pressing his cock impossibly deeper.

For a long moment they stayed like that. Her legs still unsteady. His hands still wrapped around her, holding her against him like he wanted the air between them to disappear.

"That was..." he kissed her jaw, breath ragged. "You're amazing."

He held her there for a moment, hot water rushing over them.

She forced a tired, watery smile, leaning her head against his chest just so she didn't have to look him in the eye.

Water kept washing over them both, hiding the tears that had found their way onto her cheeks.

The warmth of his release trickled down between her legs. She shifted once, triggering a new gush.

The water took it, the proof of her defeat eagerly circling the drain before it was swallowed with a steady gurgle.

Inside, she felt hollow. Like she'd sold the last piece of herself, watching as it disappeared with the foam and the lies under cold hotel tiles.

He turned her around, hands settling on her hips.

"I knew you were in there somewhere," he kissed her forehead gently. "That was incredible."

Between her legs she could feel the empty heat of where he'd been. Like her body couldn't understand why he was gone already.

Like it was missing him.

He shook his head once, thick droplets hitting her chest. Then he reached and turned the shower off.

Cold rushed in, goosebumps forming fast as the chill bit into her skin.

He handed her a towel first, then took his own.

She wrapped herself fast, not caring for the way her hair was a wet mess of dark curls plastered against her face and shoulders.

He pulled her close.

"You responded so well," he said softly, hand reaching to cup her face.

She stayed silent. There was nothing she could say.

"We're getting better at this," he continued with a smirk before he closed in, lips brushing hers. "Understanding each other. Enjoying each other."

She let him, eyes wide open as he kissed her.

He pulled back again, turning towards the mirror, adjusting his towel. Water still glistened on the muscles on his chest.

Their eyes met in the reflection. He smiled again. Then he ran his hands through his hair, adjusting the strands until it was back to that effortlessly styled look she'd always secretly admired.

Nausea rose in her throat. She swallowed once, watching him continue about his routine like this was an evening like any other.

A shiver made her flinch, water drying over her arms and back, finally breaking through the haze.

She clutched the towel tighter and left the bathroom. Behind her, she could hear Joshka hum faintly.

By her suitcase, she ignored the lingerie he had bought, opting for a comfortable pair of panties and soft sweatpants. She'd intentionally packed a pair that was oversized and hiding her figure.

From her bag she pulled the laptop and propped it up on the small desk. Her legs felt sore. Her hips would be bruised. And between her legs a faint sting flared up with every shift of the underwear against her abused folds.

A soft but insistent buzz emerged from her bag. Her phone.

Maybe it was Thomas calling to confirm lunch. Or maybe the client notifying them which file contained their latest decision for the outsourcing.

She picked up, pinning the phone between her shoulder and ear.

"Marie Deller."

"Marie! Oh good, I caught you." The voice was warm and familiar. "It's Anna."

She nearly dropped the phone. For just a second she wanted to hang up. Pretend nothing had happened.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Anna continued. "I called the office and they gave me your number. I hope that's okay?"

"Sure," she managed, clutching the phone tighter.

"I'm so sorry to bother you. I know you and Joshka are busy with the case," somewhere in the background something clattered, followed by a coo from Sophia.

"It's fine," Marie tried to keep her voice down without whispering. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, just--" Anna hesitated. "Has Joshka seemed... stressed to you? He's been so distant lately. I'm worried about him."

Marie's throat closed. She turned her back to the bathroom door.

"The case has been demanding."

It was all she could manage.

"I know. And I'm grateful he has you to support him. I just..." Anna's voice cracked slightly. "I miss my husband, Marie."

Marie's knees nearly gave. One hand reached for the safety of the table. She didn't know what to tell Anna. Nothing she could say would ever make this right.

The silence seemed to drag on forever.

"Marie?" Anna's voice came again. "Are you still there?"

It finally got her out of her trance.

"I should go," she said quickly. "I'm sure he's fine. He's just--tired."

"Thank you, Marie. That's sweet of you."

She hung up just as Joshka opened the bathroom door.

"Who were you talking to?"

Their eyes met. He stood there, expectantly. She couldn't lie. He'd check thinking it was Thomas.

"Anna," she said, trying to make her voice sound normal.

His face went carefully blank, shoulders straightening almost imperceptibly.

"Why did she call you?"

Her hands clutched the phone tighter.

"She's worried about you."

"What did you tell her?"

Her thumbnail traces the small ridges of the volume buttons.

"That you're tired. Because of the case."

He studied her for a long moment like he was trying to determine if she'd told the truth.

"Good," he said finally. "That's good."

She set the phone down on the table. Nothing was good. None of this was good.

"Call your wife, Joshka," she said, voice small in the enclosed space.

"I already talked to her earlier."

She wanted to laugh. The short call about Sophia while he had stood in the changing room of a lingerie store buying something for another woman.

"I meant really talk to her," she said quietly. "She misses you."

"We still have a lot of work to do," he said. "The SteerCo deck needs serious revision after they decided against the centralization of finance functions."

"We could get a visiting associate to support," she suggested. It wasn't the first time. She just had to try again.
He pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer.

"The budget is tight already. You know that," he said quietly. "And we're such a good team, don't you think?"

He reached for her waist, pulling her closer.

"This was meant to be just us," he brushed a wet strand of hair from her temple. "I don't mind the longer hours."

She minded. So did his wife.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Let's power through the remaining slides and then get some sleep, what do you say?"

Her hands were still at her sides, not reaching for him. Never reaching for him.

"Okay," she managed, pulling back just slightly.

He let her go, turning to his suitcase to take his essentials back to the bathroom.

Her breathing didn't want to steady. Like something was sitting on her chest, keeping her from actually taking a breath.

She inhaled shakily. The sound more sob than taking in oxygen.

This was only their second week on the case.

There was no version of the next months she could survive. He knew what made her react. He'd learned her. Her body.

And he would use it against her every second of the day.

Her phone buzzed again. She flinched, halfway expecting Anna to call back and confront her about everything.

She reached for it slowly and turned it over.

The lockscreen showed one new message.

It was from Thomas.

"Hello Marie. Lunch sounds good. Let's meet at 12:30 at the Italian place at Odeonsplatz. KR Thomas."

She committed the time and place to heart, then deleted the message.

Since he was part of the promotion committee, Thomas would know the moment everything was locked in.

Now she had to convince Thomas to tell her the moment those decisions were final.

Because that was the moment she could leave. The moment Joshka couldn't hold her career over her anymore.

With a tap, she opened her mail account. It had become a habit that kept her sane.

She found the folder, unlocked it with her face ID and stared at the contents of the mail.

The screenshots she had taken from the fabricated chat with Joshka were still there. Ready if she needed them. Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe it would take her down with him.

But it was something she could use to finally be free of him.