Eyes on Me

Checked into the Grand Hotel Palace in Rome. Mr and Mrs Smith again. Felt less stupid this time. More like an alias that belonged to us. Like we had a life that only existed in hotel rooms far from home.

Was watching him in the taxi from the airport. Two months since Paris. Eight weeks of going home and making pasta for the children. Sitting through Mark's faculty dinners. Billing hours at chambers. All of it feeling like I was underwater.

'You look tired,' Richard said in the lift.

'I am. Mark's been attentive.' Attentive meant watching my phone. Asking where I'd been. Wanting sex almost every night like he sensed something.

Richard's hand found my knee. 'Just us now.'

---

Suite this time. Not like that first soulless Cambridge hotel or even the Paris room. Bigger. Heavy curtains. No mirror opposite the bed though, a different energy.

He locked the door and stood with his forehead against it for a moment. 'I missed you so much.'

He helped me out of the dress. Black lace underwear again. The expensive set I'd bought in that shop off King's Parade. Hid the receipt in my chambers filing cabinet.

'No mirror here, Rich.'

'We don't need one sis.' His hands on my waist. Warm through the lace. 'Want to watch you this time. Watch your face.'

He lifted me, my back against the wall. His hands cupped my arse. Held me there.

'This one is for me, all that time with Mark. Thinking about this.'

His fingers found the edge of the stockings. Then between my legs. Already soaked through the lace. Eight weeks of need.

He pulled the knickers aside. Pushed two fingers inside. I was dripping for him. Could hear it. That slick sound of his fingers working me.

'Open your eyes, Natalie. Look at me and tell me what you've been doing for two months.'

'Washing dishes. Doing briefs. Taking the children to their swimming lessons.'

'No, don't be silly. The other thing.'

'Yeah okay, you know I think about you.'

'When Mark touches you...'

'Yes, I think it's you. I want it to be you.'

He bit my shoulder. Hard enough to leave a mark. 'God, Nat I want you.'

He freed his cock. Thick. Already leaking. Lined himself up and pushed inside me against the wall. No gentleness. Just need. Split me open. Too big. Always too big at first. My cunt stretched around him. Taking every inch.

'Fuck, you're soaked. So ready for me.'

Started moving. Fast and hard. His fingers digging into my arse. The sounds of him fucking me. Skin on skin. My arousal running down his cock. Down his balls.

'I missed you. Missed this. Missed being inside you. Missed how tight your cunt is.'

I felt myself coming fast. Couldn't help it. Spasming around him. Could feel myself gripping his cock. Trying to pull him deeper.

'That's it. Come on your brother's cock.'

The words pushed me over. Came hard. Gushing. Could feel it running down my thighs. Down his. My whole body shaking.

He didn't stop. Kept going through it. Building me up again.

'Again, Nat. Come for me again.'

His mouth on my neck. Both of us desperate. Two months too long. He came inside me. Buried deep. Could feel his cock pulsing. Filling me. The hot rush of cum. So much of it. Flooding me.

When he pulled out it started running immediately. Down my inner thighs. Obscene amount. He put his fingers back inside. Pushed it deeper.

'Want you full of me.'

Afterwards he carried me to the bed. Laid me down gentle and kissed me slow.

'I love you,' he said. 'I know we're not supposed to. But I do.'

'I love you too.' Pulled him down. 'That's the problem.'

Went to his bag. The tie. Always the tie now. One of his work ones.

'The wrists?' he asked. Not demanding. Asking.

'Yes. Then my ankles.'

Watched him tie me. His hands shaking slightly. Still nervous. Still careful with me.

He brought out a silk scarf. 'Can I?'

'Yes.'

Looped it around my eyes. Everything went dark.

'Tell me if it's too much,' he said quietly. 'Any of it. Just say.'

'I will.'

Heavy darkness. Could smell his aftershave. Could smell us. Sex and sweat.

'I'm just looking at you right now,' he said. Voice soft. 'My sister. Tied up for me. Trusting me. Covered in my cum.'

'Talk to me,' I said.

'I think about leaving Clare. Every day. Then I think about what that means. What it would cost.'

'Rich...'

'But then I think about you going home to Mark. Him touching you. And I can't stand it.'

'I can't stand it either.'

Then his weight on the bed. He laid beside me. His hand on my stomach. Warm. 'What are we going to do, Nat?'

'I don't know.'

'We can't keep doing this. Two days every two months. It's killing me.'

'Me too.'

His hand moved lower. Between my legs. Found me still ready. Still slick with his cum leaking out. He pushed it back inside with his fingers. Then started touching me properly. Two fingers inside. Moving. The sounds filthy.

'I want more. I want you properly. Not stolen weekends.'

'I know, I want that too.'

'Then we have to actually decide. Not just talk about it.'

His fingers curled inside me. Found that spot. Started moving faster. Could hear how aroused I was. Sloppy. Dripping. 'Decide now. In this darkness. Where it's just us.'

'I can't.'

'You can.' Moved faster. Harder. 'Say it. Say you'll leave him.'

'I'll leave him.' Came as I said it. Like the words pulled it from me. Seizing around his fingers. Blind and bound and his. Could feel myself gushing. Soaking his hand.

He pulled his fingers out. Moved over me. His cock pushed inside. Still hard. Slick with my arousal and his cum.

'Say it again.'

'I'll leave Mark.'

'And I'll leave Clare.' Slow thrusts. Deep. 'We'll do it properly. Together.'

'The children...'

'I know. But we'll figure it out.' Kissed me through the blindfold. 'Won't we?'

'Yes.'

Made love then. Not fucking. Slow and deep. Both of us knowing what we'd just promised. What it meant. He came inside me again. Warm. Deep. Held me after. His cock still inside. Softening. Keeping his cum trapped.

---

The next day we walked through the Borghese Gallery. Marble everywhere. Gods frozen mid-transformation. Richard held my hand tight. Every touch felt dangerous. Like someone might see. Might know.

We stood in front of Apollo and Daphne. Her body turning to laurel. Trying to escape.

'She doesn't want to be caught,' I said.

'But she is anyway.' Richard touched my wrist. Where my pulse was. 'Sometimes you can't escape what you are.'

We sat on a bench outside. Cold stone. December wind.

'I meant it last night,' he said quietly. 'About leaving Clare. I'll do it when we get back.'

'I meant it too.' My hands were shaking. 'I'm terrified.'

'So am I.' He looked at me. 'But more terrified of losing you.'

'Everyone will know. Mum and Dad. The children. Mark's family.'

'They won't know why. They'll just think we had affairs. They won't know it's each other.'

'Won't they though? Won't they see it?'

He squeezed my hand. 'Maybe. But by then it won't matter.'

We sat there. Two people planning to blow up their lives.

'Show me you're serious,' I said finally. 'About this. About us.'

'How?'

'Something reckless. Something that proves this isn't just hotel rooms.'

He looked at me. Understanding. 'The bar?'

'Yes.'

---

In the bar on Via Veneto the light was dim. Music loud. American tourists at the next table. Talking about the Trevi Fountain.

Wore a short skirt. No knickers. Sat close to Richard at the corner table. Could feel the leather seat against my bare arse.

'You sure about this?' Richard asked.

'Yes. Are you?'

He nodded.

My phone buzzed. Mark calling. Looked at Richard.

'Answer it,' he said. 'Go on.'

Answered. 'Hi.'

'Just checking in. You at the conference dinner?'

Richard's hand slid up my thigh. Under the skirt. I reached for him at the same time. Found his cock through his trousers. Already half hard.

'Yeah, it's just finishing. Boring speeches.'

His fingers pushed inside me. Two. I unzipped him. Freed his cock. Started stroking. Both of us working each other whilst I talked to my husband.

'When's your flight tomorrow?'

'Three.' Voice catching slightly. His fingers curled. Hit that spot. Had to bite down. Kept stroking him. Could feel him getting harder. Thicker. 'Gets in... gets in around six.'

'You alright? You sound odd.'

Richard's fingers moved deeper. Faster. I squeezed his cock. Hard.

'Just tired. Long day.' Voice strained now. Couldn't hide it. 'The wine at dinner was...' His fingers hit that spot again. Had to stop. Breathe. 'Was quite strong.'

'Right. Well get some rest.'

'I will.' Barely holding it together. Richard watching me. Enjoying this. Both of us getting close. 'Look, Mark, I should...' Voice breaking. 'Should go. They're waiting.'

'Sure you're okay?'

'Fine. Just need some air.' Almost panting now. 'Love you.'

'Love you too.'

Hung up. Came immediately. Cunt clamping down on his fingers. Kept stroking him through it. He came seconds later. Cock pulsing in my hand. Both of us biting back sounds. His cum spilling over my hand. My arousal flooding his fingers.

The Americans kept laughing. Completely oblivious.

He brought his fingers to his mouth. Licked them clean. I did the same. Licked his cum from my hand. Looking right at him.

'Christ,' he said.

'He nearly knew.'

'Made it hotter.'

'You're a bastard.'

'You love it.'

Did. That was the problem.

---

Back at the hotel. Couldn't wait. Barely got the door closed.

But then we stopped. Stood there looking at each other.

'Want to try something,' he said.

'What?'

'Your turn. To tie me up. Do whatever you want.'

Looked at him. 'Anything?'

'Anything.'

Made him lie on the bed. Secured his wrists behind his back. Tied them to the headboard with his tie.

Peeled off my stockings. Sheer black ones.

Shoved one inside my cunt. Let it sit there. Soak up us. What we'd been doing all weekend. My arousal. His cum still inside me from this morning. Pushed it deep. Worked it around.

Pulled it out. Soaking. Dripping. Smelling of sex. Of cum and cunt.

Walked back to the bed. He was watching me. Eyes wide.

Shoved it into his mouth. He let me. Closed his lips around it. Could see him tasting it. Tasting us. His eyes rolled back. Let out a low groan.

The other stocking I tied around the base of his cock and balls. Tight. Makeshift cock ring. He groaned around the stocking in his mouth. Already hard again. His cock thick. Veins standing out.

Straddled him. His cock trapped between us. Not inside yet. Just resting there against my cunt. Could feel the heat of him. The hardness. Pulsing.

'This is worship,' I said quietly. More to myself than him.

Started travelling his body. Everywhere. My hands. My mouth. Took my time. Spent forever on his chest. Licking. Biting. Sucking his nipples until he winced. Made sounds around the stocking. Muffled. Desperate.

Reached his ear. Bit the lobe. 'I need to know you adore this. Adore my body on yours.'

He groaned. Deep. Desperate. Shivered beneath me.

Ground my cunt along his cock. Every move designed to draw a reaction. Slick and ready. His muffled sounds perfect.

Wrapped my leg around his. Pinning him there.

Then turned around. Reverse. Took his toes into my mouth. One by one. Could see my own feet near his face. Toes painted that dark red Mark hated. Denied Richard access.

He spat out the stocking. 'Please, Nat. Your feet. Need them.'

Gave them to him. Here we were then. Brother and sister. Sucking one another's toes. Simultaneous. My cunt grinding back against his stomach. Could feel the muscle there.

Felt his cock twitch and strain against the stocking tied around it.

Turned again to straddle and face him. Guided his cock inside. Slow. Clenching. Tight as I could hold him. Leaned in. Took his lips into mine. Made love to them as I made love to his cock.

Up and down languid. Feeling every inch of him. Until I sensed his need building. His desperation.

Untied his hands. Instantly he flipped me onto my back. Took back control. Drove into me. Hard. Deep. My feet on his chest. My toes back in his mouth. Fast thrusting. The bed frame hitting the wall.

Sat up. Needed to see where we were joined. His cock disappearing inside me. Meeting every thrust with one of my own.

'I love you,' he said. Looking at me. 'Whatever happens. I love you.'

'I love you too.'

Came together. Him flooding me. Me clenching. Milking him. Taking everything.

---

Richard was standing by the window. Already dressed. Could see the Vatican in the distance.

'It's six thirty.'

Rolled over. Could smell us on the sheets. 'I don't want to go back.'

'Neither do I.' He came to the bed. Sat down. 'But we have to. So we can actually end things properly.'

'What if we can't? What if we get back and it's too hard?'

'Then we'll do it anyway. Because I can't keep doing this. Living half a life.'

'Me neither.'

He stroked my hair. 'One week. You tell Mark. I tell Clare. Then we figure out the rest.'

'What if they ask why?'

'We tell them we fell in love with someone else. That's the truth. The only truth that matters now.'

Sat up. Wrapped the sheet around me. 'Everyone will hate us.'

'Probably. But we'll be together. That's all that matters.'

'I'm scared.'

'So am I.' He stood up. Looked at me. 'But I can't go home and pretend anymore. One week, Nat. You know it has to be now.'

'Mark's been watching me. Checking my phone when I'm in the shower. Asking about every meeting.'

'Christ.'

'I nearly told him last week. Just to end it. Realised I'd rather blow everything up than keep lying.'

'So we do it properly. Tell them both. Face whatever comes.'

'Yes.' Felt terrified saying it. But also relieved. 'Now get dressed. I have a flight.'

---

We walked through the lobby. Could see the concierge watching us. Wondered what he saw. Just another couple checking out. Had no idea what we were planning.

We stood by the kerb. Roman traffic already building. Scooters everywhere.

'I'll text you,' Richard said. 'After I tell Clare. Let you know it's done.'

'I'll do the same. After Mark.'

'And then?'

'And then we figure it out. Together.'

The taxi arrived. He kissed me. Right there on the street. Didn't care who saw. 'One week, Nat. Then we start properly.'

'One week.'

Slid into the back seat. Watched him standing there as the taxi pulled away. My brother. The man I was about to blow up my life for.

---

Later in the afternoon at Fiumicino I sat in the departure lounge. Checked my phone. Message from Richard already.

*Just landed. Already miss you. One week. I promise. I love you. R x*

Replied: *One week. I love you too. N x*

Looked at my reflection in the glass. The wife and solicitor. The woman about to ask for a divorce. The woman in love with her brother.

One week to tell Mark. One week to end everything. One week to start the impossible.

Could still back out. Could go home and pretend Rome never happened. Keep it as stolen weekends forever.

But I wouldn't. Because Richard was right. We couldn't keep living half a life.