Page 59 of The Sleepwalker
Pontus hears that her voice is huskier than usual.
Her eyes are bloodshot, and she is busy touching up her lipstick in front of the mirror when he moves over to her, pulls up her dress and enters her from behind.
They return to the bedroom and continue to have sex for another forty minutes before a third alert on her phone makes them stop.
Kimberly gets out of bed, sits down on the floor and pulls on her pumps. She then stands up on unsteady legs and leaves the room without even glancing back at him.
Pontus remains where he is, heart pounding. He hears the front door slam, followed by the sound of her footsteps and thechauffeur’s polite voice. The car doors open and close, and the gravel crunches beneath its tyres as it pulls away.
He should take two milligrams of Xanax and ten of zopiclone, he thinks, so that he can try to get a bit of sleep. His alarm is set to go off at seven, and then he will have to eat a quick breakfast, drive back to Falun and head straight to work.
He hears the same rattling sound from the kitchen again, as though someone has just opened the cutlery drawer.
It is quarter past two in the morning, and he is wide awake. He could easily have continued having sex; his erection is still rock hard, his muscles quivering.
Pontus raises his right hand and tentatively examines his forehead. The skin feels tender, and he suspects he will end up with a bruise. He had been doing Kimberly from behind when she cried out in orgasm and slumped forward. He collapsed with her and cracked his head against the headboard.
Four crazy hours.
The drug turbocharges the limbic system, causing the heart to race, endorphins to pump, and an intense longing to throb in his loins.
The increased blood flow made Kimberly’s skin hot to the touch and turned her lips a deeper shade of pink.
Pontus closes his eyes as fragmented memories from the past few hours wash over him.
The goosebumps on the waxed skin of her mons Venus when she parted her thighs.
The bedside lamp that toppled over and hit the floor with a strange metallic clang.
The faded tattoo on his bulging stomach, glistening with sweat.
Her sucking on his fingers, pushing them inside herself, swollen and wet.
Him crawling between her legs and licking her. Seeing hertense her thighs and buttocks before groaning loudly.
‘Keep going .?.?.’
Her straddling him, a bead of sweat dripping from the tip of her chin. Him squeezing her breasts with both hands, pushing them together and seeing the fine lines on her chest stretch up to her throat.
She was completely electric.
Some five or six times, he had flipped her over onto her back, pumping harder as she bucked her hips towards him.
‘Don’t stop, don’t stop .?.?.’
Those are the words she repeats most frequently on nights like this, but he would never stop; he is always utterly fixated on his own pleasure. An urge beyond all reason. A chemical rutting period, as she likes to call it.
He pulled out and ejaculated onto her stomach. His seed trickled along the scar from her caesarean section when she reached over to turn off the first alarm, then she rolled onto her front and raised her backside towards him.
Pontus is lying quietly in bed, but he is still high and can’t stop thinking about sex. He also knows that Kimberly has probably started masturbating in their Mercedes-Maybach.
He pictures her with her legs spread in the backseat, caressing herself, pushing three fingers inside and failing to hide her orgasm from the driver.
Deep down, however, he knows that probably isn’t the case. He knows that Kimberly will have already begun to morph back into his wife in the car. To Caroline, who – with a self-deprecating laugh – would say that a crystal-clear mind and a throbbing clitoris are the ultimate combination when doing business.
Pontus gets out of bed and checks his phone. He writes a quick text to Kimberly, asking her to come back, but she replies with nothing but a heart.
He notices that the veins on his arms are protruding as he picks up his clothes, turns them right side out and gets dressed with trembling hands.
