Chapter Text
You really shouldn't be staring, but it was hard not to. You couldn't see past the dark lenses of her round sunglasses. The wind blew by, shaking her raven tresses, stealing a glimpse at the pearl earrings and exposing the slope of her neck. The muscles were tense, and the deep furrow of her brow as she spoke into her cellphone in what you could only assume was her mother tongue. Your eyes followed the exposed skin, her clavicle, the bit of cleavage. Her blouse was soft ivory, and her skirt that had a slit in the side was a rich charcoal. The curve of her calf was taut; you see the delicate scallop design of her heels. The sun was just about to rise against the horizon. Its light hits the train and reflects on its shiny surface of navy and white. That light hit the woman you were gawking at. She looked magnificent, and you felt like a creep as you stared. You would let your eyes bounce from the train to her, skyline, and back. Though you might have been caught with your staring that, she stopped mid-sentence, and a devilish smirk appeared.
You lick your lips and look away in the opposite direction. A rosy hue appeared on your cheeks as you gazed at the other passengers boarding the train and fiddled with the bowtie neckline of your emerald dress. You ran a hand through your hair, tucking some strands behind your ear. You would only be on the train for two days and one night. Your final stop was Venice, where your friends were waiting for you. It was only a one-night stay in the sleeper. Your friends had encouraged you to take the train—a quick scenic route. This was all to celebrate your birthday. Your birthday will have passed by the time you reach your final destination. This had been a spur-of-the-moment purchase. A purchase you made with your credit card, a drunk purchase. You had even wept a little the following day when you saw what you had done.
You follow along quietly, boarding the train. You are given the itinerary and led to your sleeper cabin. Your small luggage has already been brought to your suite. You were upgraded to a suite with a private en-suite. The suite's interior is lined with rich, deep red wood panellings and decorated with soft creams and rich reds. The suite is furnished with intricately framed mirrors, and most furnishings are about a hundred years old. You feel like you shouldn't touch anything, let alone breathe. As you sit on the edge of the bed, you can feel the train's gentle rocking. The blinds are open, and you can see lush greenery outside. There's a small couch closest to the door and a small table with a bucket of champagne and glasses. You were allowing your hands to run across the lush comforter. Yeah, your credit card was weeping. At least the champagne was of no cost and would be refilled to your heart's content.
***
After a much-needed moment to yourself and possibly half a bottle of champagne and some fruit, you explored the other cars—a novel of choice in hand. Few on-board restaurants would be open, considering only ten or twelve passengers had boarded. Much of the train was styled from the 1920s, with some Art Deco and Art Nouveau touches.
The lounge is decorated in a beautiful combination of rich blues and creamy hues that adorn the space. Aromatic fresh-cut flowers were carefully arranged and placed in the center of each table, adding a touch of elegance and freshness to the atmosphere. You noticed delicate lamps with intricate designs that added a warm and cozy feeling to the already pleasant ambiance. The seating arrangement was interesting. The chairs were all covered with a soft, striped blue and white fabric that appeared comfortable. The seats varied in size and shape, ranging from cozy two-seaters to oversized, comfortable single chairs. This gave passengers different options to choose from depending on their preferences. As you glanced towards the windows, you noticed the beautiful blue satin curtains that were neatly tied, allowing the passengers to enjoy the stunning views of the outside world as the train moved along its set path.
You sit in one of the single chairs, resting your book atop the dark tabletop. There were a few other people in the lounge. However, they were immersed in their conversations or simply enjoying the views. Green foliage from treetops and houses would come into sight. You can hear the wheels of the train clacking against the tracks.
You immersed yourself in your novel, not realizing you were halfway through. The soft rapping of knuckles against the tabletop draws your attention away from the page you are reading to look up. The elegant woman from earlier; this time, you could see her eyes. They sparkled with mischief and joy. She is leaning slightly, offering you a bit of cleavage to peak at. You feel like you are gawking again. You blink a few times.
"May I sit here?" Her voice is rich and smooth. Her free hand points to the free seat across from you.
Clearing your throat, sitting up, you speak, "Go ahead, please sit,"
She smiles warmly, "Thank you, I didn't mean to interrupt your reading. You seemed extremely focused," sitting across from you.
"Oh! I'm sorry. I was focused. It's a short novel and short trip,"
"It's quite all right, a short trip? Business or pleasure?" She tilts her head, resting an elbow on the tabletop, a small smile gracing her crimson lips.
You start to close your book, bookmarking the page. You scratch at your brow, "I suppose pleasure?"
"Oh, what kind of pleasure?" She asks, her other hand drawing patterns on the table. Her nails are painted in deep burgundy and well-manicured. Her eyes drink you in, often landing on your lips.
You can't help but blush at her question, "I'm not sure yet,"
"Hmm, I'm sure you'll be able to make it pleasurable," She took her bottom lip into her mouth and turned her head to look out the window.
You realize you haven't even offered your name to the mysterious goddess that captured your attention—licking your lips and tucking your short strands behind your ears. You let your gaze fall on her; she has been watching you this whole time. One word comes to mind: amused. The wrinkles around the corner of her eyes crease, and the plastered smile on her lips is evidence enough of that amusement.
"How rude of me, I did not introduce myself. Alcina, and what might I call you?" She leans slightly forward, resting her hands atop the table between you two.
Alcina. What a lovely name. You repeat it in your head, and you can't help but feel as though you have heard the name before. It sounds sweet and decadent as you repeat it.
“Y/N,”
There it is again, a beaming smile from her. You were starting to squirm in your seat; the way she looked at you made you feel warm, like she was undressing you as if you hadn't been the first to be staring her up and down. You stare at your wristwatch. You hadn't spoken to the maître d' yet about your dinner plans.
"Say, would you like to join me for dinner?" she asks, fiddling with her thin bracelet.
You raise your brows, blinking a few times. You are starting to think that she can read your mind. You chew on your bottom lip.
"I don't want to intrude…"
"Nonsense, it would be a waste if you got a table for yourself, and I would be alone at my table,"
"Only if it's not a bother to you,"
"It wouldn't be."
You lean back in your seat, offering a small smile, fiddling with your novel. Clearing your throat, "I should probably get ready for dinner then."
Alcina hums, "We should. Shall I escort you to your suite?"
"Umm, sure."
You slide out of your seat. You notice her doing the same as you get up from your seat. She walks right behind you, and you can smell her perfume, a combination of floral and citrus scents with a hint of musk. You recognize the floral note as roses as you return to your rooms, passing through other train cars. You feel her hand brushing against yours whenever you need to move out of the way for staff or other passengers. Your skin tingles whenever her fingertips brush up against you. Once you reach the sleeping car, the hallway is narrow; the rich wood panelling shines from the sunlight that filters through the windows. The patterned carpet hushes the sound of your footsteps, and a soft hum resonates from the train. You reach your door and watch as Alcina slips past you, leaning against the wall.
"I will see you shortly,"
You nod your head; she pushes away from the wall and turns a particular sway in her hips as she walks away. You swallow hard. It would be best if you got ready.
***
The water from the shower head cascades down your face, running your hands through your wet hair. You were almost done with your shower. You were letting the water hit you for a bit longer. Had your friends been present on this trip, they would have teased you—your repertoire in flirting or dating had been lacklustre. Currently, you are in a dry spell. Your last relationship had been taxing, and having moved to the other side of the world. You had opted to call it quits. You focused on work for a year straight, becoming oblivious to advances. Aside from your birthday, the whole point of this trip was to get you out and about. To quote, at least get you laid by your friend's standards. You sigh, shutting off the gold taps, stepping out of the shower, drying yourself and tying the plush robe. You shiver involuntarily. You stare at the red basin, mirror foggy from the steam. You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous about having dinner with Alcina. It seemed she had already planned this from the moment you stared at her on the platform. What bothered you was her name. You felt as though you had heard or seen it somewhere. Maybe you could ask her over dinner. It wasn't a common name, but you have heard it somewhere.
Stepping out of the small en-suite, feeling your nerves spike, you had to decide quickly what to wear. Was it too late to skip out on dinner?
***
You hear the soft rap against the door; you stand up from the couch. You run your hands against the satin of your light apricot dress. You smooth out wrinkles, fix the scoop neckline, and play with your earring stud.
It's just dinner, and you are keeping each other company for dinner. There's nothing nefarious about having dinner with an attractive woman. Extremely attractive. God. You have been depriving yourself for a year.
You open the door, and your mouth hangs open. The sun casts a beautiful halo around her. She was donning an off-the-shoulder dress in what you believe is a deep crimson that hugs every curve. Your eyes wander from her cleavage towards the pearls surrounding her neck. She exuded the epitome of the upper echelon. You close your mouth. You are clearing your throat, puffing your cheeks. Her fingers drum against the clutch that she holds.
"My, don't you look lovely," She states, reaching out to touch the material of your dress at your neckline, her fingertip ghosting the visible skin on display.
"Thank you, and you look gorgeous,"
A pearly grin is directed at you.
"Shall we?"
"Oh yes." You step out, closing the door behind you.
She leads the way, and you are staring at the sway of her hips following the line of the zipper. You can see the lines of her shoulder blades as she walks ahead; her pace is accommodating to your own. She was pretty tall. If you had to guess, you were probably about the bust level to her. Even with heels on, you were still at bust level. Alcina was way out of your league, and you mean way out of your league. A soft blush settles on your cheeks. You chew on your cheek as you stare out the windows. The sun is starting to descend on the horizon, its orange glow filtering through the windows.
With so few passengers on board, only one restaurant was open. You are both led to your table, much like the lounge, adorned in rich blues, greys, and soft creams. The few passengers that were on board stared between you and Alcina. They were mostly staring at Alcina. Who wouldn't?
Dinner was pleasantly filling. You were waiting for dessert. You hear Alcina chuckle lightly.
"Hm?"
"You seem eager for dessert,"
"I always have room for dessert, especially one as enticing as a chocolate cake with a vanilla bourbon custard,"
She chuckles again, and you could get used to hearing it.
"Do you travel often?" she asks, letting her finger trail around the rim of her water glass.
"Not particularly. Unless you count me moving from one continent to the next as travelling," you answer, watching how her finger stills.
Her cheek rests in the palm of her other hand as she stares at you through her lashes.
"Hmm, dating anyone?"
You see the waiter with your desserts, placing them in front of you both.
She sits straight now, waiting for an answer.
You lick your lips, "I'm not dating anyone,"
The minute that escapes your lips that you aren't dating anyone, you feel her heeled foot brush against your calf. Thinking that it was just an accident, you fidget slightly.
"Oh, a pretty girl like you not dating anyone? I find that hard to believe,"
You instantly blush, "I haven't had the time to date…" With dessert fork in hand, you dig into the decadent cake, bringing it to your lips. Again, you feel her heeled foot brush against your calf going higher. You stare out the window, nearly choking on the piece of cake.
"Well, I suppose you have plenty of time to get to know someone. You mentioned earlier that this was a short trip?"
"I suppose so… well, this train experience is short. With a bit of peer pressure from my friends, they convinced me to take time off work to celebrate my birthday since a few of them were in Venice, and here we are,"
"It's your birthday?" her features soften, and her foot stills underneath the table.
Crud.
"With what remains of this day, yes," you set your fork down on the plate, reaching out for your water glass and sipping on it awkwardly. You stare out the window; it seems you have arrived in Paris as the train stills.
Nothing more is said. She merely stares at you, furrowing her brows and pouting her lips.
You are allowed to step off the train, and Alcina disappears, indicating that she needs a moment to herself. A cigarette case is in her hand, an intricate lighter that matches the case. You watch from a distance on the platform as more passengers board the train. You see the velvety smoke that wafts in the air from Alcina. You begin to walk alongside the train, running your hands against the satin of your dress. You clench and unclench your hands when you have them at your side. You shouldn't have mentioned that it was your birthday.
You hear your name, and you look over your shoulder.
"Don't stray too far," you feel her slip her hand in your own. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"To celebrate your birthday, we should have a few drinks,"
"Alcina, it's fine…"
"I won't take no for an answer. I have a gift in mind,"
"Just one drink…"
***
One drink had turned to two, to three. Alcina's hand would rest on your thigh. At the same time, her other hand held the stem of her wine glass. Listening to the soft tunes of the baby piano brought out into the lounge. At some point, your hand had wandered to the small of her back. Your fingers draw soft patterns mindlessly doing so. You feel her lean in closer to you, her lips ghosting the shell of your ear as she whispers, "Would you like your gift?"
You shudder, spilling a bit of your drink on your dress. Her words against your ear sound suggestive. You feel tingly and nod your head. Like before, she leads the way, and you follow along. This time, she holds onto your hand, tugging you along and staring over her shoulder once or twice. You watch the soft bounce of her raven curls, amongst other moving things. You smile at a few of the staff that appear along the way—bidding them a good night. She squeezes your hand tightly, slowing down as you arrive at your door. She turns around, holding onto her clutch tightly.
"I just want to be clear. Are you sure you would like your gift?"
You tilt your head and offer a beaming smile. "Alcina, your company has been a gift already."
"That is sweet of you, dear, but I am being serious."
"I am positive that I would like your gift,"
"Well, are you going to invite me inside or did you want your gift out here?"
"Oh! Sorry."
You open the door, and she steps in before you. You follow behind, closing the door shut. As you turn around, she presses you against the door. Her hand locked the door. You hear the soft click, her breathing, and the train horn blaring. She peers down her nose to stare at you, chest to chest.
"At first, I had planned to have a little fun with you due to your staring at the start of this. Tease you a bit, but you ended up being so soft and honest," She begins, pressing her lips together.
You stare at her, "It wasn't my intention to overly stare…" you whisper.
"I know…" her hands rest on your hips, gathering the satin of your dress to rise higher. Slow and meticulous.
She presses her lips at your shoulder, leaving a lipstick mark and trailing them towards your neck and jaw until she meets your lips. Her lips were warm and soft, and you parted your lips, allowing her tongue to slip inside, tasting the wine that she had been drinking earlier. Her knee was pressed between your legs. Her hands wandered away from your hips, lifting a leg to wrap around her while your hands snaked around her shoulders. She pulls away from your mouth, taking hold of your bottom lip between her teeth. Letting go, trailing her lips down your chin.
It's dizzying the sensations. You smell her perfume, and it consumes you entirely. Much like the way her lips are consuming the flesh of your skin. Her lips nibble and suck on a particular spot on your collarbone. Her tongue was soothing over the spot. Her hand cups one of your breasts, gently squeezing, and she begins her descent. Your breathing was becoming ragged, watching how she descended slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. She was letting your leg fall back down, pushing them apart, hiking up your dress. You hold onto the fabric that has been hiked up. You were feeling a bit light-headed. Dazed even.
Her hands trail the warmth of your thighs, squeezing the flesh; her breath is warm against the thin, lacey material that shields you. Her tongue swipes over the thin material. Your breath hitches at the feeling. Her fingers hook at the hem of your underwear, rolling them to your ankles. You stare down at her, meeting her gaze—a smirk appearing on her smudged lips. She presses her lips on the inside of your thigh while her hand massages the other. She was trailing along until she reached your center. Lips ghosting everywhere else. Until her tongue circled your clit. Your legs were trembling, and you were panting. A throaty hum escapes her as she takes you into her mouth. She was sensually sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. The patch of dark hairs tickled her nose, alternating between sucking and gliding her tongue against you. Her arousal coated the fabric of her lacey thong.
“Alcina…” You rasped.
Her fingers dig into your skin, the flat of her tongue running back and forth against you. You feel the need to grind your hips against her tongue. She pulls away a sliver of saliva and slick follows her tongue, rising upwards, trailing her fingers against your thighs. She savours the taste of you. You whimper at the loss of contact. All of her actions are elegant and hot. Her lips trail the tops of your breasts, leaving wet kisses as she trails the underside of your neck, her tongue licks your lips. Eliciting a moan from you. A hand firmly grips your waist while the other has found its way to the nape of your neck. Her lips greedily consume your own. You taste yourself as she explores your mouth. She was sucking on your tongue. Your fingertips roam the expanse of her back, gripping the fabric of her dress. She had you breathless, melting into a puddle before her.
Letting her tongue flick your own, pulling away to watch the panting mess she has made of you, "Who would have thought your staring would reap a reward?" She purrs.
The room is filled with your shared breaths, and you find it hard to answer her. She leads the way toward the bed; a gift is left at the end. She had tossed it to the couch. She pulls on the zipper at the back of your dress. She is freeing you from the confined fabric. You tug on the straps of your clothing, letting it pool at your ankles. You kick off your heels. You were stark naked in front of her, and you swear that her eyes begin to glow in the dark room. She pushes you onto the bed. Silently watching as, she freed herself from her dress and undergarments.
You were doing it again, drinking in every curve, the light bounce of her breasts, the soft swell of her stomach, the dark patch of curls at her mound. She was a goddess. Your eyes darken as she crawls on top of you.
"You're beautiful," you blurted, mouth salivating at the sight of her.
"Hm, and here I thought you had gone mute,"
"I find that you make me breathless, and I find it hard to formulate words,"
She chuckles at your words, letting her nails drag across your chest, pinching the pebbled peaks.
"How cute," she coos. You arch into her touch.
"Alcina…" You whine.
She lets go. Her mouth replaces her fingers on one breast, flicking your erect nipple and taking it between her teeth while she pinches the other.
"Oh god, Alcina,"
"Hmm?"
She was proving a point that her tongue was sinful. You stare down through lidded eyes at her, and her glossy nails drag against the skin of your breast, against your ribs, and down your stomach. Raking her fingers against your mound, parting your wet lips.
Pulling away from your breast, she murmurs, "Always staring, dear. Shall I show you how wet you are?"
Her fingers ghost down your wet core, lightly slapping three fingers against you. You hear how wet you are. You see her wet fingers as she plays with it.
"Fuck…"
"Oh, my. Who knew a curse could sound so sweet? Is that what you would like me to do?"
"Yes..."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I want you to fuck me,"
"The night is still young… and it is your birthday…"
God, this woman would be the death of you.
Slowly, her fingers glide against you. A soft groan escapes her lips. Her lips find purchase in the crook of your neck. Her breaths warm against your skin. You grind your hips against her fingers, and she bites down. You hiss at the pain.
"Patience," she murmurs against your skin, soothing the bite with her tongue.
Back and forth, circling your swollen clit, slowly. You were desperate for release. Over and over, antagonistically slow.
"Alcina, please…" You pleaded between breaths, jerking your hips against her fingers.
She pulls her hand away, bringing her fingers to her mouth, humming at your taste. This was your punishment, you suppose, gawking at her like a piece of meat. She moves to align herself against your wet cunt. You feel her arousal against your own. She holds onto your leg; her knee resides on your other side. You sit up slightly. She sets a slow pace against you, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh; you do the same to her thigh. A gentle rocking. Her moans fill the room, breathy and symphonic. You meet her movements in tandem.
"Fuck,"
She pants, smiling as she listens to your desperate curses and moans. The room feels warm, with a slight scratching to the mattress beneath them. The wooden headboard bangs against the wall as she ruts faster against you. Ragged breaths. Wet noises. Simply enjoying the feeling of your wet cunt against her own. A strangled noise escapes you both, trembling as you lift your hips, attempting to squeeze your legs shut. A shockwave passes through you. She continues to grind against you, nails leaving marks on your thigh, tumbling down from her pleasure.
You blink a few times, feeling as though the room was beginning to fade to black, and you shiver at the contact of her lips against your own.
"Happy Birthday."
***
You are startled awake by movement. Everything that happened the night before coming back. You hide your face in your pillows, a soreness, an ache in your muscles. You were peeking at the bright light that filtered into the room.
"Good morning," she voices at the end of the bed, a piece of fruit at the end of the fork in hand. She was freshly showered.
You blink a few more times.
"Good morning…" your voice was hoarse; you wrapped the blanket over your head, peeking at her.
"I took the liberty of ordering you breakfast, and I used your en-suite…" she plops a grape in her mouth, observing you, "We arrived in Switzerland, lush greens and mountainside."
"I see, thank you,"
"Are we feeling shy today?"
"No, I just…no,"
"How cute,"
"You're teasing,"
"I did plenty of that last night,"
"Alcina!"
She chuckles, looking away from you, "If you'd like, I'll close my eyes while you make your way to the en-suite."
"Tease," you repeat.
Getting up from bed, making your way to shower, and brushing your teeth. Closing the door behind you.
***
She keeps you company in your room, feeding you and playing with a short strand of hair. In between, you become tangled limbs again. There is an amicable silence as you lay in bed staring at her.
"Take a picture, it lasts longer,"
"Can I?"
"No,"
Before leaving your room, she had asked many questions about your age, favourite colour, and activities. It had felt like she was playing twenty questions with you. You couldn't help but laugh softly; she had pouted her lips when you wouldn't answer her questions, pinning your wrist. You would cave in answering her. She had been vague in answering your questions.
Reluctantly, you watch her leave. You were freshening up again, changing into a sleeveless blouse, a pair of jeans and flats. Side parting your short hair. You had packed up, looking for your small purse with your cell phone. It felt bittersweet. She littered you in marks, and you had blushed a beet red at the sight of them. Your friends would have a field day when they saw you—pressing your hands against your cheeks, ensuring your phone was fully charged. You listen to the engine chug, the wheels against the track, the soft sway in motion, the blaring horn, and the soft knock at your door. Oh! The door.
You get up from the couch and open the door.
"Alcina?"
You see her suitcase and purse; she's wearing a crimson wrap dress—the scalloped heels were a cream-coloured pair instead of the black ones.
She clears her throat, standing straight, "I feel I haven't answered your questions, and I want to be clear that I don't make it a habit of sleeping with just anyone,"
You smile softly, rubbing your hands against your jeans, "It's all right. I don't want to pry if you're not comfortable sharing,"
"It's not all right, and my intentions weren't pure at the start," she twists her fingers together; behind her, you see you are arriving at the platform in Venice. You hold a hand up, returning to your room to collect your small suitcase and purse.
"I'd like to get to know you,"
"I would like to get to know you too,"
She peers down her nose to stare at you until you are on the platform. You have your cell phone in hand and hand it to her. You watch as she enters her contact information, pausing and then typing away, sending herself a message to ensure she has your contact information. Returning your phone into your hand, she rummages through her purse. She was pulling out a neat business card and handing it to you. The card was alabaster in colour, and the font was a neat calligraphy font in gold. Alcina Dimitrescu.
"If you are taking three weeks off, why don't you tag along with me after you meet your friends? I want to explore other avenues with you..."
She pecks your lips, not disappearing in the crowd.
You stare at the business card. You were staring at her name, flipping it over. Dimitrescu winery. CEO.
Oh, fuck. Fuck. No wonder her name was so familiar. Oh, fuck.