All Is Fair: A Trent Alexander-Arnold x Kylian Mbappè x Original Character Erotic Series.
18+ Minors DNI
Chapter 20
Due to a slight schedule change, Kylian’s end-of-year holiday with his friends was delayed by a day or two, reducing nine days of relaxing under the Caribbean sun to seven. While Rosa was looking forward to being somewhere warm and sunny, it also gave her a chance to go back to New York for a few days to properly prepare for the trip.
Christmas had been quiet for Rosa; she'd spent the holiday cosy in the comfort of Kylian's Parisian penthouse while he spent time with his family at his father's place, just outside the city, before returning later that evening with more dessert than either of them knew what to do with.
“So Kylian's here, like, in New York?” Kayla murmured lowly, slightly out of breath after such an intense pilates class. Rolling her yoga mat so she could slot it into its holder.
“Here as in I'm meeting him at the Four Seasons later for dinner, there were plans to be in Saint Barth but he had business here and coming home for a few extra days only made sense to me,” Rosa explained raising her hands above her head to stretch her fatigued muscles.
Kayla slung her gym bag over her shoulder, the faint scent of eucalyptus from the studio clinging to her skin as they pushed through the heavy double doors into the bustling corridor.
Fluorescent lights looked overhead, casting a glow on the tiled floors. Rosa adjusted her ponytail, feeling the cool air raise faint goosebumps on her arms still warm from exertion.
Halfway down the hall, a familiar voice cut through the chatter—Quentin, broad-shouldered and grinning, towel draped around his neck like he'd just stepped off the basketball court he stood outside the doors of. His eyes lit up as he spotted them, lingering a beat too long on Rosa's toned legs and the way her sports bra hugged her. “Rosa? Kayla? No fucking way, it's been forever,” he said, smile bright as he made his way over to the women.
Quentin wiped a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, his gym shirt clinging to his chest as he closed the distance between them. The hum of distant treadmills faded into the background chatter of other members grabbing water bottles from the dispenser. Rosa felt a flicker of nostalgia stir, the easy camaraderie from those late-night study sessions.
“Quentin, hi,” Rosa smiled back, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder pulling her into a quick hug before doing the same to Kayla.
Quentin pulled back, an easy grin still plastered on his face as he glanced between the two women. “What have you guys been up to? Still killing it in the city?”
“Trying to,” Kayla laughed, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “Working hard and behind adults. You know how it is.”
“Sounds about right,” Quentin nodded, his eyes lingering on Rosa a moment longer. “What about you? How is Nate?” he asked, instantly making Rosa's stomach drop at the mention of her ex.
Rosa shrugged, a smirk on her lips in an attempt to hide the internal blow of his question. “We broke up after graduation.”
“Fuck, my bad for asking,” Quentin replied, his tone light but cautious.
Rosa chuckled, her eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment. “You're good, you wouldn't have known.”
Quentin shifted his weight, the rubber sole of his sneaker squeaking faintly against the tile as he rubbed the back of his neck. The air between them hummed with the low buzz of the vending machine nearby, dispensing a can that clattered into the slot. He glanced at the exit doors, then back at Rosa and Kayla, his grin turning a shade more playful. "Hey, we should grab a drink sometime if y’all are down. Catch up properly—no ex talk, I promise. Sound good?"
Both women exchanged numbers with their college friend before heading into the changing rooms, the conversation between them flowing as they dressed to face the cold outside before heading their separate ways.
When she made it home to her apartment Rosa stripped off her sweats and her gym clothes beneath, tossing them into the laundry hamper before climbing into the shower, the hot water loosening her muscles and reverting her hair into its natural curl pattern as she allowed it to wash over her before getting out.
Rosa took her time cleaning her apartment, the routine grounding her, as she pushed thoughts of Quentin's casual invite and the unexpected pang of Nate's name to the back of her mind. She fluffed the cushions, straightened a framed photo of her and Kayla from college, and spritzed the air with a floral-scented cleaner that cut through the faint stillness.
Satisfied, she retreated to her closet, picked out an outfit that was both comfortable and casual while hugging her curves just right, pairing it with flats and minimal jewellery—a simple gold chain that rested against her collarbone. Makeup came next: a sweep of mascara, a touch of gloss on her lips, and her hair pulled back into a low bun. Once ready, she grabbed her coat, purse, and scarf the apartment now hushed and orderly behind her.
The Uber pulled up curbside minutes later, its headlights cutting through the evening chill as Rosa slid into the back seat, the leather warm against her legs. The drive to Tribeca wound through bustling streets, city lights blurring past, until the Four Seasons loomed just outside of the sleek black car, all gleaming glass and poised doormen. In the lobby, polished marble echoed the heels of her Chanel loafers.
Following the directions Kylian had sent over via message, Rosa made her way up to his suite, pulling off her coat and folding it over her arm as she stalked the hotel's long hall looking for the door number that belonged to him for the duration of his stay.
Her knuckles rapped sharply against the heavy door, the sound muffled by the thick wood but firm enough to carry. It swung open almost immediately, revealing Kylian in a white t-shirt that clung to his broad chest, his dark eyes lighting up with that familiar hunger as they roamed over her. Without a word, he reached out, his hand curling around her waist to draw her inside, the door clicking shut behind them as his lips crashed onto hers in a kiss that tasted of mint and urgency, his fingers digging into the soft clinging fabric of her leggings.
Rosa's breath hitched, her body responding for a split second before instinct kicked in—she pressed her palms against his chest and pushed back gently but decisively, creating space between them. Her heart hammered, a mix of the day's unresolved tensions bubbling up; Quentin's easy charm, Nate's ghost lingering in her thoughts, and now this pull toward Kylian that felt both thrilling and dangerously familiar.
She needed to slow it down, to reclaim some control before she lost herself in him within seconds of being in his presence. "How was your day?" she asked, her voice steady despite the warmth creeping up her neck, stepping back further to drape her coat over a nearby chair, her eyes scanning the suite's dim lighting and the faint scent of his cologne hanging in the air.
Kylian paused, a slow grin spreading across his face as he leaned against the wall, arms crossing over his chest, clearly amused by her deflection. “Filled with meetings I'd rather not attend, how was yours?”
“I went to a pilates class, caught up with a friend, and did some cleaning,” she replied, keeping her voice light. “Nothing too exciting.”
“Cleaning, huh?” Kylian chuckled, his gaze never leaving her. “You could have just come here instead.”
Rosa smirked, attempting to brush off the heat creeping back into her cheeks as Kylian inched towards her. “I like cleaning. It helps clear my mind, put things into perspective.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded, stepping closer, the playful glint in his eye intensifying. “But I hope you know I’m here to help with that too. Mind clearing and all.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to stifle a smile. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Maybe I am,” he said, leaning down slightly, his breath brushing her neck as he whispered, “But it’s something you enjoy, no?”
Rosa bit her lip, feeling the electricity between them live and wild, but she forced herself to focus. “I was thinking, after dinner, I could take you somewhere.”
Kylian studied her for a moment, the playful demeanour shifting to something more serious, his dark eyes searching hers. “Where?”
“To one of my favourite places in the city, it's super quiet and out of the way,” Rosa explained. Although he acted as if he was anything but, Rosa understood that to the world Kylian was someone, and with that came the inability to move as freely as the average man could.
Rosa's pulse quickened at his proximity, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down her spine, but she held her ground, meeting his gaze with a mix of defiance and curiosity. The suite's ambient light cast soft shadows across his features, highlighting the stubble on his jaw and the intensity in his eyes that made her stomach flip.
Kylian straightened up slightly, his grin softening into something more genuine as he tilted his head. "Before we head out, though—restaurant or room service? Your choice."
Rosa considered it for a beat, the idea of slipping having to be cautious, Kylian running the risks of being spotted, it all seemed a little ill-fitting for such a chilled night in the city. Especially with the knowledge they were supposed to be on an island somewhere before plans were changed
"Room service," she said finally, slipping off her shoes before sinking into the plush lounge chair, the fabric cool against her skin. Deciding over what to order from the hotel's kitchen came easily, a little bit of everything and an order of warm cookies and ice cream for dessert.
Around twenty minutes later, a knock echoed through the room; Kylian answered to reveal a cart laden with a steaming pizza they could tear into together, fries piled high, and crispy chicken tenders and an array of condiments. The savoury aroma filled the air, mingling with the faint city hum beyond the windows.
They settled back into the lounge area, the oversized cushions enveloping them as Rosa plucked a fry from a plate, its saltiness bursting on her tongue while Kylian slid a slice of pizza onto her plate first, his fingers brushing hers deliberately.
Laughter bubbled up between bites, easy conversation flowing about nothing and everything—the crunch of the crust, the tang of the sauce, the way the tenders had a perfect crunch.
She watched him savour a tender, sauce smudging his thumb, feeling the casual intimacy wrap around them like a blanket. As plates emptied, Kylian wiped his hands on a napkin and pulled out his phone, dialling with a quick thumb. "Hey, prep the driver—we're heading out soon," he said into the receiver, his voice low and assured, eyes flicking to Rosa as he spoke.
Rosa felt the shift in the air as Kylian ended the call, his eyes locking onto hers with a spark that made her heart stutter. She set her napkin down, the faint stickiness of sauce lingering on her fingers, and stood to stretch, the room's carpet soft under her bare feet. The city lights twinkled through the glass, pulling her toward the window where she leaned against the cold pane, watching traffic snake below.
Kylian rose too, moving behind her with quiet steps, his hands finding her waist in a gentle grip that sent warmth spreading through her core. He rested his chin on her shoulder, murmuring something in French —the neon glow on wet streets after a passing winter shower, the hum of life that never slept. Tension heightened as his fingers tightened their grip on her hip.
She turned in his hold, facing him squarely, her palms pressing flat against his chest to feel the steady beat beneath. The scent of his cologne mixed with pizza clung to him, grounding her as she searched his face for hesitation, finding none. His lips curved, drawing closer, while outside a car horn blared sharply, slicing the moment with the raw edge of the real world pressing in.
“I feel like I haven't seen you since we arrived in New York,” Kylian murmured.
“Professional boundaries,” Rosa smirked, giggling as he dramatically rolled his eyes.
“What if I wanted to see my friend?” he asked, his hands slipping to Rosa's backside as he pulled her body flush against his.
“You’re Kylian Mbappé, I know you have a lot of friends,” she retorted, stepping out of his way so she could grab her coat.
Kylian's thumbs hooked under the hem of his black beanie, tugging it down until the wool grazed his eyebrows, shadowing his distinctive features. He zipped his hoodie up to his chin next, pulling the hood strings tight to frame his face in a cocoon of fabric, the faint scent of Dior cologne clinging to it. Rosa watched from the couch, her pulse quickening at the practised disguise, the way he transformed.
Exiting the hotel was easy, the lobby was empty and the guests that lingered didn't care for anything but their own endeavours on the cold winter evening.
Outside, the winter air nipped at their skin as Rosa led him to the waiting black SUV, sliding into the back seat first, Kylian following close. Upon Rosa's instruction driver navigated Manhattan's gridlock toward Brooklyn, streetlights streaking past windows fogged by their heat, her hand finding his knee in the dim interior. Minutes passed as the city's bridges loomed, the skyline twinkling.
Choosing her favourite the tucked-away bar in Brooklyn's quieter streets, Rosa pushed open the heavy wooden door, the warm murmur of patrons enveloping them. She approached the bar, ordering two glasses of deep red wine with a familiar nod to the bartender, then guided Kylian up a set of narrow stairs to the rooftop.
The night air up top carried a crisp chill, stars faint above the city haze, empty chairs and tables shrouded in darkness—the cold and late hour keeping everyone indoors. She settled into a corner loveseat, handing him his glass, the stem cool against his palm.
“This view is insane,” Kylian gushed, pulling his phone from his pocket so he could take a picture of his view, the Brooklyn Bridge looming big and bright in the near distance.
“Its one of my favourite places in the city,” Rosa smiled, standing to her feet so she could join him as he took in the city in all its concrete glory. “There’s an ice skating rink just over there,” she continued, pointing across the way.
“Do you know how to?” Kylian asked, turning to look at Rosa in amusement as he took a sip of his wine.
“Of course I do, can you?” she bit back playfully, eyes bright and warm as she looked up at him.
“I can, although my career means I don't get to do things that run the risk of breaking anything,” Kylian laughed making Rosa do the same. “When I was younger my parents used to take me and my younger brother Ethan skiing every year, I miss it,” he revealed.
“I mean, I'm not a world-famous footballer like you, but I understand,” Rosa joked, sipping from her glass.
“You don't treat me like I'm famous,” Kylian smiled. “I like it,” he purred.
“I would've thought most people liked being treated as though they're more important than anyone else?” Rosa shrugged lightly, her shoulder brushing his arm in the chill air, the faint scent of her perfume mixing with the crisp night breeze off the river.
She set her glass down on the low table, fingers lingering on the rim as she met his gaze steadily, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. Kylian's laugh had eased something in her, a quiet unravelling of the day's tensions, but beneath it stirred the pull of unspoken wants—his nearness, the way his presence filled the empty rooftop without overwhelming it.
Kylian noticed as a shiver ran through Rosa and reached for her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a gentle circle. The touch sent a spark up her arm, chasing away the night's bite, but it also deepened the knot in her stomach—the one that twisted between thrill and caution.
“Cold?” he asked as Rosa nodded, her breath visible in the crisp air, the warmth of his hand seeping through her skin.
“I wanted to look good and I figured I'd be warm enough, it’s my fault,” Rosa murmured, leaning into Kylian's warmth.
“Let's head back to the car,” Kylian suggested as Rosa's breath caught slightly at his touch, the suggestion hanging in the air like the distant hum of traffic below. She nodded again, letting him guide her toward the stairs that led down to the quaint bar, his hand firm in the small of her back, before dropping from its place as they stepped out into the street.
“I love the city, but I hate how cold it gets,” Rosa shivered as she crossed her arms, pushing her hands into her armpits to escape the chill as she strolled leisurely beside Kylian through a rather quiet corner of Brooklyn.
“Was the outfit worth it?” Kylian smirked, the thick-knitted Dior hat and Nike hoodie pulled low over his eyes doing wonders at concealing his identity as he embraced the rare moment of anonymity.
“I think so,” she giggled, a puff of smoke following the soft sound as Kylian's eyes traced over her head to toe, quietly admiring her.
The leggings she wore shaped her ass and legs in a way he couldn't ignore, the Chanel loafers she'd paired the rather casual outfit with giving an understated touch of elegance. On her top half, she wore a knitted Ralph Lauren sweater and a thick winter coat, with a scarf dropped around her neck in an attempt to shield her from the New York winter.
“I would agree, although I prefer you warm,” Kylian drawled, his eyes meeting Rosa's as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes.
A comfortable silence lingered as they walked back towards the tinted black truck where Kylian's security and driver waited patiently for them.
“The evening was fun,” Rosa said, her breath visible in the crisp air as she slowed her steps near the truck, glancing at the familiar street corner that led to her apartment. She waved politely to the security guy lingering by the vehicle, his posture relaxed but watchful, then turned back to Kylian with a soft smile. Her fingers tugging at the edge of her scarf as the wool scratched against her skin.
Kylian nodded, but as she pivoted toward the sidewalk stepping away, his hand shot out gently, catching her elbow. “Rosa, I'm not letting you walk alone in the dark. Get in—I'll drop you.” His voice carried a firm edge, one that brooked no argument, even as his thumb brushed her sleeve in a small, reassuring circle. The truck's door clicked open behind them, engine humming low.
She paused, twisting to face him, her cheeks flushed from the cold or maybe something else. “Kylian, really, it's just a few blocks. I do it almost every day.” The wind picked up, rattling bare branches overhead, and she pulled her coat tighter, eyes meeting his with a mix of independence and quiet plea that he'd drop it. He shook his head, stepping closer, his presence blocking the breeze as the security detail shifted subtly, ready to move.
“Get in,” he murmured into her ear.
Rosa's breath caught at the warmth of his murmur, the scent of his cologne mingling with the sharp winter air as she felt the solid wall of his chest inches away. She glanced toward the truck, its interior lights casting a soft glow on the leather seats, then back at Kylian, whose jaw had set in that stubborn line she was starting to know well.
Her hand rose instinctively to his wrist, fingers light on the cuff of his sleeve, not pulling away but holding there, a silent negotiation in the chill. The security guy averted his eyes, pretending to check his phone, while the distant honk of a cab pierced the quiet street.
Kylian's grip on her elbow tightened just a fraction, not painful but insistent, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse stutter. He could see the flicker of hesitation in her face—the way her lips parted as if to protest again, the subtle shift of her weight from one loafer-clad foot to the other. Leaning in closer, his free hand brushed a stray fallen lash from her cheek, the touch lingering longer than necessary, sending a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “I insist,” he added, voice low and rough, laced with the protectiveness that had simmered all evening, now bubbling to the surface as the wind whipped her scarf loose.
She exhaled slowly, her defiance dissolving between them, and finally nodded, her fingers tightening on his wrist before slipping free. As she stepped toward the open door, Kylian followed close, his hand settling at the small of her back, guiding her into the warmth of the truck. The door thudded shut behind them, shutting out the cold night, and the engine rumbled to life as the security climbed into the front.
“To her place,” Kylian instructed, his knowledge of Brooklyn limited despite having visiting the city more times than he cared to count.
“Where exactly is that?” his security officer spoke up, the car's dash illuminating the front of the vehicle as the GPS came to life at his touch.
“There's no need to search for it, just drive straight ahead and take the first left. I'll guide you,” Rosa explained, her palms slightly clammy under the watchful eye of Kylian's security guard.
The truck rumbled forward, tyres crunching over pavement stone and dried tarmac, streetlights flickering past as the car glided through the street. Rosa leaned forward slightly from the back seat, her voice steady despite the knot in her stomach. "Straight through the light, then right at the bodega with the flickering neon sign." Kylian's security nodded without a word, the city unfolding in flashes of colour and shadow outside the tinted windows.
Kylian sat close, his thigh brushing hers with every turn, the heat of him cutting through the leather seat's chill. He watched her profile, the way her fingers twisted the edge of her scarf, and felt a pull low in his gut—not just from the evening's wine, but something rawer, hungrier.
The high-rise loomed ahead sooner than expected, its redbrick facade etched with fire escapes like veins. "Pull up here," Rosa said, and the truck eased to the curb, engine idling with a low grumble. Kylian was out before she could gather her bag, circling to her door and offering his hand, enveloping hers in his larger one as they stepped onto the sidewalk.
“You don't have to walk me up,” she smiled softly.
“I know I don't, but I want to,” Kylian murmured, taking a step closer to Rosa urging her towards the building’s entrance.
The doorman, a rather tall greying gentleman who often spoke to Rosa about his life and family, pushed the glass door open with a smile and a gravelly “Good evening, Ms Rosa,” his eyes flicking curiously to Kylian before stepping aside. Cool lobby air washed over them, carrying the faint scent of polished brass and cleaning products. Kylian kept his hand firm on the small of her back, thumb tracing a slow circle through her coat as they crossed the tiled floor toward the elevators, the soft ding announcing its arrival like a held breath released.
They stepped inside the mirrored box, doors sliding shut, and the air thickened instantly. Kylian turned to her, backing Rosa gently against the wall, his mouth crashing onto hers in a kiss that tasted of wine, urgency, and restraint that hung by a thread. His hands roamed freely, one sliding up to cup her face, fingers tangling in her hair, while the other gripped her hip, then lower, squeezing the curve of her ass through her leggings.
Her body melted into his, breaths mingling hot and heavy, the elevator's mechanical whir fading under the press of bodies until it jolted to a stop at her floor. The kiss broke apart just enough to stumble out, lips brushing as she hurriedly guided him down the dimly lit hall to her towards her door.
Rosa's fingers trembled against the lock, the key scraping metal as Kylian's body moulded to hers from behind, his erection grinding insistently against the cleft of her ass through their clothes. His palm splayed wide on her hip, fingers digging into soft flesh, holding her while his other hand roamed upward, cupping her breast and thumbing the hardening nipple beneath her knitted sweater. His breath hot on her neck, he nipped the shell of her ear, a low growl rumbling from his chest that vibrated straight through her core.
“Stay,” Rosa breathed. “Please don't leave me like this,” she swallowed, teeth clamping down on her plump bottom lip as her back bowed and she pressed herself up against him, their breathing deepening simultaneously.
“Like what?” Kylian mused into her ear, catching the flesh of it between his teeth.
“Wanting you,” she gasped, her head falling back against his shoulder as his fingers pinched her nipple through the wool, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain straight to her throbbing clit. His other hand slid from her hip down to the damp heat between her legs, palm pressing hard against her pussy through her leggings, making her buck against him. “Fuck, Kylian,” she whimpered, the key finally turning in the lock with a loud click that echoed in the empty hallway.
“Let's make a deal,” he drawled into her ear. “I’m going to go and tell my security guard to leave me be, when I return neither of us is leaving this apartment until the morning.”
She pushed the door open with her hip, the familiar creak welcoming them into the dim apartment, streetlight filtering through half-drawn blinds. Rosa kicked off her shoes, the cool hardwood kissing her bare feet as she padded toward the bathroom, heart pounding with anticipation. Kylian lingered in the entryway, phone already in hand, his eyes devouring the sway of her hips before he turned on his heel.
Water rushed from the faucet into the deep porcelain tub, steam rising in lazy curls scented with vanilla oil she drizzled in, bubbles foaming thick and inviting. Rosa shrugged out of her sweater and leggings, the fabric pooling at her feet like shed inhibitions, her skin prickling in the humid air.
She slipped into a robe from the hook—black silk, whispering against her curves—but left it untied, the panels framing the swell of her breasts, the wanting and desperate place between her thighs, every inch exposed and gleaming faintly under the bathroom light. Leaning against the sink, she watched her reflection, nipples tightening at the thought of his return, fingers tracing idly down her sternum.
The front door clicked shut again, heavier footsteps approaching, and there he was in the doorway, jacket shed, sweater sleeves rolled to expose his forearms. His gaze locked on her, dark and hungry, sweeping from the parted robe to the bath filling behind her.
“Come to me,” Kylian beckoned, his voice low and commanding, eyes never leaving the valley between her breasts. Rosa pushed off the sink, silk robe slipping further open as she closed the distance, hips swaying with deliberate slowness, as the steam wrapped around them. He met her halfway, hands cupping her face, his thumbs smoothing over her cheekbones before his mouth crashed down on hers—ravenous, all teeth and tongues, tasting of mint and the faint traces of dinner wine.
She moaned into his mouth, fingers twisting into his sweater, pulling him closer until their bodies fused, heat lingering where her skin met his clothed torso.
Kylian's palms slid down her sides, gripping her ass to hoist her onto the cool marble counter, the shock of it drawing a gasp from her lips that he swallowed with another kiss. Rosa's hands were frantic now, yanking his sweater over his head to reveal the taut planes of his chest, the faint line of dark hair that trailed downward. She traced the ridges of his abs with her nails, then tugged at the waist of his pants, the material slipping down his thighs along with his boxers, freeing his thick cock that hung long, thick, and hard against her inner thigh. He kicked the fabric aside, stepping between her spread legs, the robe falling completely open to bare her fully to his gaze, nipples hard and aching for his touch.
He lifted her again, muscles flexing under her grip as they stumbled to the tub, water lapping at the edges with frothy insistence. Kylian sank in first, back against one end, legs stretched long, then pulled her down opposite him, her calves draping over his thighs underwater. Bubbles clung to their skin like secrets, the heat seeping into sore muscles, her foot brushing his erection teasingly as she settled, eyes locked on his.
Wrapping his hand around her ankle, Kylian raised Rosa's perfectly pedicured foot above the water's surface, playfully inspecting it as he ran the pad of his thumb over the hard black gel that covered the nail of her big toe. “Pretty feet,” he murmured more so to himself than anything before placing it back down into his lap.
“You're weird,” Rosa teased giggling softly, her cheeks and chest warming as his remained fixed on her. “Can I make a confession?” she asked sitting up a little in the tub hair slick to her shoulders and the top of her back.
“The floor is yours,” Kylian murmured.
“You’re nothing like I assumed you'd be,” she began. “Not in a bad way, but before meeting you… Getting to know you I had my assumptions.” Rosa explained, watching kylian closely as she silently prayed her words did nothing to offend him.
“Which were,” Kylian asked, his grip still lingering on her ankle.
“When we first met in Paris you were quiet, you played the back of the room although that's kinda impossible being you… I assumed you were just this cold distant guy, but now…,” Rosa trailed off, unsure of how to put together her next words.
“Now what?” Kylian probed.
“Now I know that for someone with so much access, you have so little freedom,” Rosa murmured as her eyes met Kylian's from the other side of the tub, the rhythmic drip of water falling against the surface of the bathwaterer and the sounds of the relaxed drawn-out breaths filled the steamy warmth of Rosa's bathroom.
“I’ve come to accept it,” Kylian drawled, a lazy smile spreading across his features as he relaxed further into the tub, allowing the hot water to soothe his muscles.
“Just because we accept things doesn't make them right,” Rosa shifted slightly in the water, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the tub's edge as the steam curled between them like unspoken words. Kylian's gaze held hers, steady and unyielding, the kind of look that made her chest tighten with a mix of amusement and something a little more delicate. She leaned forward just enough to let her knee brush his under the surface, a deliberate touch that sent ripples across the water.
“You're insightful,” he noted, his smile widening as he thought back to his conversation with Brice on their flight to Paris, when he'd branded Rosa the same thing.
For someone who often played the back of the room and only spoke when necessary, there wasn't much she didn't observe, and while it sometimes made Kylian feel more exposed than he cared to, it was a quality of hers he equally enjoyed.
“I’m kinda prone to fucking up, I need insight,” Rosa joked, the quip hardly amusing Kylian as he took in her features closely, the twitch of her pout, the flicker of hurt in her eyes as she belittled herself.
“Why do you talk down on yourself so much?” he asked curiously. “I’ve known you for some time now and I have yet to see any of these bad qualities.”
“Maybe you're not looking hard enough,” Rosa shrugged, her shoulders dipping below the waterline as bubbles clung to her collarbone. Kylian watched the way the light from the overhead fixture illuminated her skin, turning the droplets of water into tiny glistening shapes.
“Come here,” he settled his hands on her waist, guiding her closer through the shifting water. Rosa complied without hesitation, her movements fluid as she rose and pivoted, the warmth sloshing gently around them.
She swung one leg over his, settling onto his lap with a soft exhale, her thighs bracketing his hips firmly. The sudden closeness pressed her round, perky breasts right into his face, the slick skin against his cheeks and nose, scented with the faint vanilla of her soap mixed with the steam's humid embrace.
Kylian's breath hitched against her, his lips parting instinctively as he nuzzled into the soft valley between them, feeling the steady tap of her heart beneath. Water beaded on her curves, trickling down in lazy paths that he followed with his mouth, tasting the salt of her flesh and heat.
His hands slid up her back, fingers splaying wide to pull her flush against him, the friction of their bodies igniting a fire under his skin. Rosa's fingers threaded into his wet hair, tugging lightly as she arched into the contact, her breath coming in shallow huffs.
The tub's edge creaked faintly under their weight, bubbles popping sporadically around them. Kylian tilted his head, capturing one nipple between his lips, sucking gently at first, then with more insistence, drawing a low moan from her throat that vibrated through her chest into his.
Her hips rocked once, instinctively seeking more, grinding against the growing hardness beneath her. He groaned into her skin, one hand dipping lower to grip her ass, kneading the supple flesh as the water lapped higher with every movement.
Rosa's moan deepened into a husky sigh as Kylian's teeth grazed her sensitive bud, sending shocks of pleasure straight to her core. She ground down harder, feeling the length of him pressing insistently against her folds through the barrier of water, her body clenching with need. His grip on her ass tightened, urging her rhythm, while his other hand roamed up her spine, tracing the knots of her vertebrae with deliberate pressure.
It hit Kylian then, sharp and unbidden—a rush of arousal twisting tighter in his gut, not just from the slick slide of her body over his, but from the way she anticipated every shift, every unspoken want. She knew him, read the tension in his shoulders before he voiced it, matched his pace without a word, as their desires synced in a primal wordless language.
That understanding, raw and intuitive, made him hotter than the steam rising around them, making his cock throb against her. He released her nipple with a wet pop, breathsuneven, eyes locking onto hers—dark and knowing, pools mirroring his own hunger.
“You're bad,” Kylian drawled, a gravelly laugh bubbling low in his throat as the unsheathed head of his cock kissed against her entrance. The most careless and irrational parts of him wanted nothing more than to angle his hips, slipping inside of Rosa without a condom, but he knew better than anyone that some rewards weren't worth the risk.
He handled Rosa as if she were weightless as he rose from the bathtub with her in his arms, water splashing onto the tiled bathroom floor as he stepped out, carrying Rosa back into her bedroom and tossing her onto the bed.
Rosa bounced on the mattress, her wet skin leaving damp spots on the sheets as she propped herself up on her elbows, watching Kylian with hooded, lust-filled eyes. Water dripped from his body in beads, tracing paths down his chiselled abs before pooling at his feet, but he didn't care—his focus was solely on her body, thighs parted just enough to tease him. He crawled onto the bed, knees sinking into the comforter, and hooked his hands under her thighs, dragging her closer until her heat right against him, somehow even hotter than in the tub.
The air between them crackled, thick with the scent of bath salts and desire. Kylian leaned down, bracing one arm beside her head, his free hand sliding up her inner thigh, fingers brushing over the slick folds of her pussy before parting them. She gasped, hips bucking up instinctively, and he smirked, circling her clit with purposeful slowness, feeling her pulse throb under his touch. Every twitch, every hitch in her breath fueled him, her responsiveness like gasoline to a raging fire—he pressed a finger inside slowly, then another, curling them to touch that spot that made her back arch off the bed.
He pumped steadily, thumb maintaining a firm pressure on her clit, watching her face contort in unadulterated pleasure—lips parted, cheeks hotter than the steam had left them. Rosa's hands fisted the sheets, knuckles lightening a shade, as tension curled tighter low in her stomach, her moans filling the bedroom.
“Tell me what you want,” Kylian drawled his fingertips ghosting over the spongy spot inside her, lips curling into a smirk as a moan ripped from her throat and her arousal dripped, down between his fingers and into his palm.
“You,” Rosa whispered, their eyes meeting as the air between them sweltered, filled with want and unbridled lust. “However you want me.”
Rosa's fingers trembled slightly as she reached toward the floor where Kylian's puffer coat lay discarded in a heap, the black waterproof fabric stark against the cream carpet. She managed to snag the edge of the pocket, pulling out his slim leather wallet with a soft rustle, her breath still coming in shallow pants from his teasing touch.
Flipping it open, she rifled through the compartments—cards, cash, a crumpled receipt—until her fingertips closed around the foil packet tucked in the back. She tore her gaze from it back to him, holding it up like an offering, the metallic sheen catching the dim light from the bedside lamp.
Kylian pulled his fingers free from her with deliberate slowness, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean, tasting her on his tongue while his eyes locked onto hers, dark and commanding. He nodded toward his cock, hard and straining upward, the tip glistening. "Put it on me," he said, voice low and gravelly, shifting his weight to kneel between her legs, giving her full access.
The bed dipped under him, sheets tangling around their knees as he waited, muscles taut, every inch of him radiating restrained hunger. Rosa ripped the packet open with her teeth, the sharp tear echoing in the quiet of her bedroom, and rolled the latex down his length with careful, reverent strokes, her palms gliding over the heat of him, base to tip, until it fit snug, her eyes locked on his the entire time.
“So sexy,” Kylian groaned, as hands gripped Rosa's thighs firmly, spreading them wide as he hooked her legs over his forearms, folding her body beneath him. The position pinned her hips upward, exposing her pussy completely, folds parting invitingly as he aligned his sheathed cock at her slick entrance. He thrust in deep with one powerful drawn-out stroke, burying himself to the hilt, the stretch eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips as her walls clenched around his girth.
He set a fierce rhythm immediately, hips snapping forward with determined force, each roll of his hips driving deeper than the last, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the room alongside her breathy cries. Sweat beaded on their bodies, combining as he leaned in, caging her with his arms, his breath hot against her ear. Her ankles dug into his back, pulling him impossibly closer while the angle let him grind against that sensitive bundle inside her, the fire between them burning brighter with every punishing drive. The bedframe creaked under the weight of them, her breasts bouncing with the intensity, as her nails raked red trails down his back.
Pulling out abruptly, Kylian flipped their positions with effortless strength, lying back and tugging her astride him, his cock standing rigid and slick. "Ride me," he commanded, hands settling on her hips, guiding her down onto him inch by inch until she was fully seated, her warmth enveloping him completely. His fingers dug into her flesh, urging her to move as she began to rock, the friction building anew.
“Kylian, you make me so wet,” Rosa moaned as he eased her body up and down along his girthy cock positioning herself so that she sat in a squatting position on his lap, taking every last inch of him as he began moving to meet each grind from beneath.
Kylian's hands gripped her hips tighter, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh as he thrust upward with a grunt, feeling her slick walls clench around him. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down his temple while her breasts bounced with each deliberate thrust, nipples hard and brushing against his chest. He leaned in, capturing one in his mouth, sucking firmly as her moans grew, her nails digging into his shoulders like she was anchoring herself against the pleasure.
Rosa's thighs trembled from the strain of holding the squat, but she ground down harder, chasing the friction that sent chills up her spine, her breath hitching when his teeth closed around her nipple. The room filled with the wet slap of their bodies colliding, her arousal coating his balls as she rotated her hips in a slow circle, drawing a low curse from his lips.
Rosa's legs buckled under the relentless waves of pleasure, giving way as she collapsed fully onto Kylian's lap, his cock burying even deeper inside her with a slick, filling pressure that made her gasp.She reached up with both hands, gathering her damp hair atop her head in a loose twist, exposing the curve of her neck as her eyes fluttered shut.
Her nipples stood taut, aching peaks in the thick air of the bedroom, brushing against his chest with every subtle shift as she began to ride him harder, lifting and dropping with a rhythm driven by pure need. Kylian's hands slid up her back, fingers splaying wide to support her arching spine, his breath hot against her skin while the distant sounds of the city underscored their gasps. The deep penetration stretched her completely, each downward slide sending sparks through her as the bulbous tip of his cock kissed against her cervix.
He growled low in his throat, hips bucking up to meet her, the cool air kissing their sweat-slicked skin as her hair slipped from her fingers, damp curls falling loose across her shoulders.
“Use me,” Rosa gasped, her voice cracking as she tilted her hips, her nails bit into the skin of Kylian's back as she clung to him.
Kylian sat up in bed, a firm grip on her waist, flipping Rosa onto her stomach in one fluid motion, her cheek pressing into the sheets still warm and slightly damp from their bodies. His fingers tangled into her loose curls, twisting them into a makeshift rein as he yanked her head back, arching her spine while her ass lifted high, knees spreading wide on the mattress. The position exposed her completely, her pussy glistening and swollen, lips parted in invitation as he knelt behind her, the sheathed head of his cock nudging against her entrance before easing into her with a single, heavy thrust.
He held her hair taut, forcing her gaze to meet his over her shoulder, eyes locking in the dim glow of the bedside lamp as he pounded into her, each deep stroke making her body jolt forward. Her ass cheeks rippled with the impact, the slap of his hips against her skin echoing off the walls, mingling with her cries while beads of sweat trailed down his chest. His free hand clamped onto her hip, fingers harsh as he pulled her back onto him, stretching her wide, the length of him dragging along her inner walls with an unyielding friction.
Rosa's fingers clawed at the sheets, knuckles lightening a shade as the angle drove him impossibly deeper, hitting spots that made her toes curl. Kylian's breath came warm and heavy, his eyes never leaving hers, eyes shining with raw hunger as he tugged her hair, tilting her head further to watch every flicker of pleasure cross her face.
Her walls clenched around him involuntarily, a spasm rippling through her core as his relentless pace built the pressure coiling tighter in her belly, every withdrawal teasing her with emptiness before he filled her again. Kylian's thumb circled the tight ring of her ass, pressing in slow, deliberate circles slicked by her wetness, testing her resistance while his cock throbbed inside her pussy. He leaned forward, his chest slick against her back, teeth grazing the shell of her ear as he growled low, the vibration humming through her body.
The intrusion of his thumb breached her slowly, stretching the puckered flesh alongside the thick slide of his shaft, dual fullness making her gasp and buck wildly beneath him. He pinned her harder with his weight, hips snapping forward in punishing rhythm, the bedframe creaking under the force as sweat-slick skin slapped together, her breath coming in desperate pants. His free hand snaked around to pinch her clit between thumb and forefinger, rolling it firmly as she mewled wildly.
Kylian's muscles tensed, balls drawing tight as he chased his release, the scent of her arousal thick in the air while her body trembled on the edge, inner muscles fluttering erratically around both intrusions. He released her hair to slap her ass cheek hard, the reddened handprint blooming instantly as he drove deeper, grinding against her in short, harsh thrusts. Her skin burned hot under his palm, the sting sharpening every sensation as he buried himself to the hilt.
Rosa's voice broke through the haze of their frenzy, breathy and ragged as she gasped out, "I can feel you in my stomach, Kylian—fuck, you're so deep."
Kylian's eyes darkened with raw hunger at her words, a guttural groan escaping his throat as he slid one large hand flat across her lower belly, pressing down firmly to amplify the bulge of his cock shifting beneath her skin with each thrust. The added pressure made her insides grip him like a vice, her slick heat pulsing wildly around the latex barrier as he fucked into her without mercy, the wet sounds of their sex echoing off the walls. Her body arched involuntarily, thighs quivering as the coil snapped, her orgasm crashing over her in shudders that milked him relentlessly.
He followed seconds later, hips stuttering as his release surged hot and thick into the condom, filling it as he ground deep one final time, hand still splayed possessively over the faint swell. Their mingled pants filling the room, his weight partially collapsing onto her back as aftershocks rippled through them both, sweat cooling on heated skin.
With a satisfied grunt, Kylian eased himself out of her, the slick pop echoing softly as he discarded the filled condom into the bedside trash. His arms wrapped around her waist, rolling them both until she straddled his hips, her sweat-dampened curves pressing flush against his chest. He captured her lips in a deep, languid kiss, tongue sweeping slowly and thoroughly, tasting the salt of exertion mingled with her sweetness, hands roaming up her back to tangle in her dishevelled hair.
The kiss broke only when oxygen desperately demanded it, his forehead resting against hers, breaths syncing in the dim lamplight filtering through heavy curtains. “Thank you,” he murmured, voice roughened by spent passion, fingers tracing lazy circles on her spine.
“For tonight. For giving me this—normalcy. Out there, it's always cameras, contracts, the weight of being Kylian Mbappé. Expectations. But tonight, with you, I just... existed. No spotlight, no pressure.” His dark eyes held hers, vulnerability flickering beneath the sated haze, thumb brushing her swollen lower lip.
Rosa shifted slightly on top of him, her palms flat on his pecs, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath. He pulled her closer, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, inhaling the musky scent of their shared release clinging to her skin. One hand dipped lower, cupping her ass possessively as he exhaled a contented sigh, the tension of fame dissolving into the warmth of her body moulded perfectly to his.
“Mmm, how normal do you want to feel?” Rosa smirked tiredly against the corner of Kylian’s mouth. “Because there is a pile of laundry in the living room that I need to fold and pack away, you're welcome to watch.”
Rosa swung her legs off the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under the shift of her weight as she padded barefoot toward the adjoining bathroom, her hips swaying with residual looseness from a job well done on Kylian's part. The cool tile floor sent a shiver up her calves, contrasting the lingering warmth between her thighs. She flicked on the light, rummaging through the linen closet for her favourite robe—a soft, old, faded blue cotton thing that smelled faintly of detergent and nostalgia—and slipped it on, tying the belt loosely around her waist, the fabric brushing against her sensitised skin.
Kylian watched her from the bed, propped on one elbow, a lazy grin tugging at his lips as she emerged back into the bedroom doorway. As she passed close enough, he reached out with a swift hand, delivering a sharp, playful slap to the curve of her ass that made the flesh jiggle enticingly under the thin robe. His fingers immediately followed, gripping the cheek firmly, kneading it with possessive hunger, thumb dipping into the flesh just enough to tease.
The smack echoed lightly in the quiet room, drawing a surprised gasp from her that melted into a throaty laugh, her body instinctively arching back into his touch for a lingering second before she twisted away with a mock glare over her shoulder.
He chuckled low, rolling out of bed in one fluid motion, snagging his black boxers from the floor and tugging them up over lean hips, the elastic snapping against his skin.
“Come with me,” Rosa smirked, holding out her hand for Kylian to take so she could guide him into her living room, seating him on the sofa as she settled on the floor, the pristine white shaggy rug cushioning her as she reached for the first item of clothing.
She folded a pair of sweatpants first, the soft grey fabric whispering between her fingers as she smoothed out the wrinkles with deliberate strokes, her knees tucked under her on the rug. Kylian's gaze traced the line of her spine visible through the loose robe, the way her shoulders flexed subtly with each movement, drawing him in like a magnet. He shifted on the sofa, the chair creaking faintly under his weight, unable to tear his eyes away from the casual domesticity of it all—her tousled hair falling forward, the faint sheen of sweat still glistening on her in places.
His hand moved before his mind fully caught up, fingers curling around her upper arm with gentle insistence, tugging her backwards until she toppled off balance and up into his lap. Rosa let out a startled yelp that dissolved into soft laughter, her body settling across his thighs, the robe parting slightly to reveal the curve of her breast.
She twisted slightly in his lap, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his forearm, nails grazing lightly enough to send small shivers racing up his spine. She embodied a kind of unbound ease he rarely encountered, slipping through the cracks of his structured world. No demands, no performances, just this quiet permission to exist without the weight of perfection. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, lips lingering on the pulse point, savouring the way she melted into him.
