Alpine Heat

"Jesus Christ, Lena, you're going to break my neck if you keep tensing up like that."

I laughed, but I could feel my shoulders knotting under his thumbs. Markus had been my trainer for six months, and this was the first time we'd been alone—no gym, no other clients, just the two of us in this ridiculous mountain chalet he'd rented for a "fitness retreat."

"Sorry," I breathed, my face pressed into the leather massage table. "It's just... the air up here. Thin."

"Mmhmm." His hands slid down my spine, pressing hard against the knots. "The air."

The fire crackled in the stone hearth. Snow fell past the window in thick curtains. I was wearing nothing but a towel, and Markus—Markus was wearing those grey sweatpants that should be illegal. I'd noticed the second he walked in.

"Your glutes are tight," he said, his voice lower now. "Really tight."

My breath caught. "Yeah. Squats."

"Squats." His thumbs dug into the top of my ass, right where the towel was tucked. "You've got an incredible shape, Lena. Best natural booty I've seen in years."

I didn't say anything. I just pressed my hips up, just slightly.

The towel slipped.

"Shit," I whispered.

Markus didn't move. "Did that just happen?"

"Accident."

"Right." His hand landed on my bare ass cheek, warm and heavy. "Another accident?"

I turned my head, looked back at him. His eyes were dark, hungry.

"Maybe."

He didn't wait. He slid his hand down, cupping my ass, squeezing. "You've been teasing me for months, Lena. Those yoga pants. Those hip thrusts. You think I didn't notice?"

"I hoped you noticed."

"I noticed." He pulled the towel away completely, and I was naked under the dim firelight. "Turn over."

I turned. His eyes traced down my body—breasts, stomach, the dark patch between my thighs. His sweatpants were tented, obvious.

"Touch yourself," he said.

"¿Qué?"

"You heard me." His voice was rough, commanding. "I want to see how you do it when you're alone."

I swallowed, but my hand moved down. I was already wet—embarrassingly wet. My fingers found my clit, and I circled slowly, watching him watch me.

"Faster," he said.

I obeyed.

"Good girl. Now spread your legs wider."

I did, and he groaned. "Fuck, Lena. That pussy is perfect."

He pulled his sweatpants down, and his cock sprang out—thick, hard, the head shiny with precum. I licked my lips without thinking.

"Want it?"

—Sí.

He climbed onto the table, positioning himself between my legs. I felt the tip press against my entrance, just teasing.

—Mírame.

I looked. He pushed in.

The sound I made was animal. He filled me completely, stretching me, and his eyes rolled back for a second before he started moving. Slow at first. Deep. Each thrust hitting that spot inside me that made my toes curl.

"Fuck," he grunted. "You're so tight. So fucking tight."

"Harder," I begged. "Please."

He grabbed my hips and drove into me, the table creaking beneath us. My hands grabbed at his back, nails digging in. The firelight flickered across his face—jaw clenched, sweat beading on his forehead.

"You like that?" he panted.

"Yes—yes—"

"Tell me you want my cock."

"I want your cock. I want it so bad."

He flipped me over, onto my stomach, and pulled my hips up. The position was primal—my ass in the air, my face buried in the leather. He entered me from behind, and I moaned into the table.

"Oh God, Markus—"

"Look at this ass," he breathed, slapping it. The sound echoed in the room. "Look at it bounce."

He fucked me hard, fast, his balls slapping against my wetness. I was dripping down my thighs, the sounds of our bodies filling the chalet. Snow kept falling. The fire kept crackling. And Markus kept pounding into me like he was starving.

"I'm close," I gasped.

"Not yet." He slowed down, pulled almost all the way out, then pushed back in inch by inch. "I want to feel you come around my cock. But not yet."

He reached around and found my clit, rubbing tight circles while he fucked me slow. My whole body started trembling.

"Please—please—"

"Now," he whispered. "Come for me."

That was all I needed. My orgasm hit like a wave, crashing through me, my pussy clenching around him. I screamed—actually screamed—and he kept thrusting, kept rubbing, kept me coming until I was shaking and sobbing.

Then he pulled out.

"What—"

He turned me over, knelt between my legs, and took my clit in his mouth. I was so sensitive I almost pushed him away, but he held my hips down and licked, slow and deliberate, tasting my cum.

"Markus—"

He looked up, his chin glistening. "I'm not done with you."

He crawled up, kissed me hard, and I tasted myself on his lips. Then he guided his cock to my mouth, and I opened without hesitation.

He fucked my throat while I stared up at him, tears streaming down my cheeks. He was gentle and rough at the same time—one hand in my hair, the other stroking my cheek.

"Take it," he groaned. "Take all of it."

I did. I relaxed my throat and let him push deeper, deeper, until his balls were against my chin and I couldn't breathe. He held there for a second, then pulled out, then pushed back in.

"Fuck, Lena—I'm gonna—"

He came with a guttural shout, hot and thick down my throat. I swallowed, swallowed, kept swallowing until he was empty. Then he collapsed beside me, breathing hard.

We lay there, naked, sweaty, the fire popping softly.

"Well," I finally said. "That was an accident too."

He laughed, pulled me against his chest. "I think we need more accidents."

"Definitely."

We fell asleep tangled together, the snow still falling outside.

I woke up to sunlight streaming through the window and the smell of coffee. Markus was standing by the stove in just his sweatpants, two mugs in hand.

"Morning," he said, grinning.

"Morning." I stretched, the towel barely covering me. "What's on the training schedule today?"

He walked over, handed me a mug, and kissed my forehead. "Glutes. Definitely glutes. We need to work on your form."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand sliding under the towel. "Lots of hands-on correction."

I smiled into my coffee. "Sounds like I need a very thorough session."

"The most thorough." His fingers found my wetness, and I shivered. "Eat first. Then we train."