The night at the club was still long, humming with music, but upstairs, in the suite Mary had booked, the silence was of a different kind, one that intoxicates you into madness.
Mary closed the door behind her as she was drugged to thick, the high level of ecstasy was getting on her nerves and watching Sarah pour two glasses of wine with trembling fingers began to crumble her down.
Neither of them had said a word since they slipped away from the crowd. The laughter downstairs had grown distant, irrelevant. And between them there was this strange magnetic pull that they both ignored for far too long.
Mary took the glass, her fingers gently brushing off with Sarah. It felt electrifying and no one spoke about it, but both of them felt it.
"You okay?" Sarah asked softly, her voice almost shy.
Mary's gaze lingered. "I don't know what I am tonight."
Sarah stepped closer. "Maybe we don't have to."
Their eyes met as they slowly leaned against one another. Sarah made a bold attempt cruising her lips on Mary's.
She tasted like wine dripped in honey. Her kiss was slow, uncertain, but deep—like she was waiting to let it happen.
Mary blew into her mouth, pulling Sarah closer, letting her hands tangle in that cascade of hair she had admired too many times before. She felt Sarah's fingers sliding under her top, warm palms exploring the soft skin of her back, her waist, her hips.
"You're beautiful," Sarah breathed, voice breaking. "I've always thought so."
Mary didn't say much. She pulled her top off instead, eyes locked with Sarah's. It was a silent invitation, a dirty confession.
Sarah's hands trembled as they cupped her breasts, thumbs teasing over hardened nipples. Mary arched into her touch, gasping softly, the tension of years unraveling between their bodies.
They fell onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and breathless whispers. Skin to skin, breast pressed together sandwiching their love within. Mary's thigh slipped between Sarah's as they moved in a sinful rhythm.
Sarah's mouth explored every part of Mary's bare body, her neck, the collarbone, breasts. Mary kept whispering her name like a prayer. "Sarah… God…"
Their bodies danced, hips grinding slowly, the heat kept building up with every movement. Sarah's hand slipped between Mary's thighs and into her thongs as she felt the wetness there, the need that pulsed against her fingers.
Mary clutched at her, throwing her mouth down by her pinky thongs.
"Yes," she moaned, eyes fluttering shut. "Don't stop."
They found a rhythm together—delicate and aching. Sarah's lips moved inside her while Mary cried out, holding Sarah tighter, hips bucking, until she shattered in waves of pleasure.
And then, Sarah gasped, too, when Mary turned her over and returned every touch with equally intensified hunger. Their bodies tangled, soaked in heat and desire. No words were spoken—just shallow breaths.
When it was over, they lay in silence, sweaty, tangled in sheets, their faces inches apart.
Mary brushed a lock of hair from Sarah's face. "What just happened?"
Sarah smiled faintly. "Something we shall never forget."
And beneath the silence, something bloomed—something more than lust. Something neither of them dared name just yet.