The Gala IV

Stood up on all fours, Vincent couldn’t help but admire the woman. She complimented the suite quite nicely, brunette mane framed by the chocolate bar headboard almost as high as the ceiling, a hickory brown wood. Bare skin the same pale cream as the walls, floor, and curtains. The insides of her thighs as ivory as the bedsheets. Lashes as black as the light fixtures. Staring at her petals, core open, reddened and swollen, he knew he’d have to check out early. He’d booked the hotel because he couldn’t bear to stay in the apartment that served no purpose other than to remind him what he couldn’t have. Now, the woman had sullied the Ritz-Carlton. He’d have to rebook in the morning; move as far across town as it took to expel the image of the woman who haunted his every waking and sleeping moment. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he rubbed the tip of his desire along her as he’d imagined in detail. Shuddered at her warmth. Relished in h