The Hotel

by Darling, Lola

  The other woman that lives inside me, the one who fantasizes about doing wicked things on elegant sheets, is taking over.

  “Andrew.” I whisper his name, running my palm down the length of his cock—eager to rip open his pants and take him in my hand. I attempt to turn, but he stops me, walking me forward a few steps until my hands press against the glass of the floor to ceiling windows. Lights from the skyline sparkle, little square windows from the skyscrapers around us staring like bright, voyeuristic eyes.

  “Keep your hands on the glass.” He slips a hand down into the neckline of my dress, pushing aside the bra cup to fondle my bare breast. “Tonight, your breasts, your ass, your pussy, belong to me.” He rolls my nipple between his fingers as his other hand lifts the hem of my skirt high over my hip. “Do you agree?”

  Gasping for a breath, I nod.

  “Good girl.” He grips the waistband of my panties and tugs them upward, so the fabric pulls tight against my aching clit. A moan escapes my lips at the pressure. The newness of his touch and the unfamiliar feel of his body, his smell and taste give me equal apprehension and thrill. Yet, as he eases the panties back down, the shyness I thought I’d feel doesn’t come.

  Tonight, I’m somebody else.

  Andrew lets out an appreciative groan as he cups my breasts in turn, kneading the soft flesh with worshipful measure. His other hand draws a trail around to my ass where he caresses my ass cheek, then delivers a gentle, firm slap.

  I jerk at the sound of his palm on my flesh, the slight sting nothing compared to the flame of pleasure that bolts right through my pussy.

  In one move, he yanks my dress open. A rush of cool air assaults my bare skin as the silk falls to the floor.

  “Ever since you walked into the bar, I wanted to see you like this.”

  I try to twist, to look back at the lust in his eyes, but Andrew takes my hands and places them firmly on the glass. “No moving,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the back of my neck. He unhooks my bra, and my breasts spill into his hands.

  God. I let out a moan, and he’s suddenly touching me everywhere, his hands exploring the curves, dips and rises of my body. I moan when he strokes up my inner thigh, and step my legs apart in an invitation I can’t control. My body knows what it wants—I’m powerless, bending to my lust’s will. Submitting to him, just as he said I would.

  He spins me, and I gasp as my back presses against the cool glass. He grabs my panties again, strips them halfway down this time, and pauses. “I hope these aren’t your favorite,” he smirks, and I know he’s going to rip them before he does, the sharp cut of fabric into my skin like a devil’s kiss.

  My heart flips as he drops to his knees. I look down my body, realizing fully that I’m naked save for the pearl teardrop necklace that rests between my breasts and my gold heels.

  “Wider.” He nudges my thighs farther apart. I’m tight with anticipation and completely unprepared as he gently parts my pussy lips and runs his tongue flat over my clit. Pleasure slams into me, leaving me gasping. There is no reprieve, no adjustment period as he presses closer to me and works my pussy with his mouth. His teeth graze my tender flesh as his tongue flicks and strokes my clit. I nearly lose my balance and brace myself with one hand behind me on the window. The other winds into his hair, holding him between my legs as he loves me with that wicked mouth.

  His fingers tighten around my hips in response. “You taste so fucking good. Jesus.”

  I’m mumbling something as I start to lose myself in the build of sweet, demanding pressure. It’s chasing me and with each swirl and stroke of his tongue, it runs faster… getting closer.

  I realize I’m panting, please, please, please, and I’m torn between giving in to the release he’s offering, and making it stop. The intensity is out of control. I’m out of control as I thrash against the glass and hold him to me with desperate need. It’s scary, exhilarating, and I need it to end… I need him to make it stop, to make it better, to push me over.

  To set me free.

  Suddenly, he plunges two fingers up inside me, and thrusts them hard. The thick movement jacks the pleasure higher until I know I’m going to implode. Two thrusts, three and my body tenses, every nerve alive and waiting until my orgasm slams through me in a rush of pleasure.

  “Oh my God,” I moan, and it’s so intense I try to pull away.

  But Andrew doesn’t stop, he just presses me harder against the window to steady me as he works me through it, his lips and tongue flicking my tender clit and drawing out the ecstasy. Holy shit. It’s so good, I’m sure I’m going to pass out.

  But suddenly, I’m in his arms. Andrew lifts me like I’m nothing, and walks slowly toward the bed, laying me down against the pillows. He begins to undress, those long fingers that had just given me so much pleasure working his buttons free. He sheds his shirt, revealing the strong, cut lines of his body. Damn, he’s ripped. Consumed with the need to touch him, I sit and reach for him but he stops me before I can get my hands on his body.

  “Want to touch me, beautiful?”

  “God, yes.”

  He’s a work of art: his chest, his abs, and lower still… He releases his belt and pulls it free, meeting my gaze with a smoldering stare as he unfastens his pants and leaves them open.

  “Your turn, sweetheart. Tell me how much you loved the way I made you come.”

  I’m already on my knees, finding balance on the soft mattress as he stands before me. “I’d rather show you.” The sound of his zipper accompanies my words as I work it down. Fuck quid pro quo, I would happily do this just for the pleasure of touching his amazing body. The outline of his cock against white briefs makes my mouth actually water.

  His hands slide into my hair, massaging my scalp and threading the strands between his fingers.

  He pulls my hair with a sweet tug. “Suck me off, Julie. I want to feel that lush mouth of yours take me all the way in.”

  I free him. He’s huge in my hand, thick and long and I’m momentarily stunned by his size. A bead of moisture glistens at his crown as I bring him to my lips. I swirl it with my tongue, relishing the intimacy as I take him into my mouth. Andrew groans, and the sound makes me even hotter. I want to drive him over the edge, show him just what he’s doing to me.

  I run my tongue along the length of him, teasing at the tip before I take him all the way down. Finding a rhythm, my hand slips inside his pants to cup his balls. He inhales sharply. When I glance up, his eyes are clenched tight, his lower lip between his teeth.

  His eyes flutter open and he sees me watching him. I pull back again, drawing him slowly out of my mouth, before swirling my tongue over his head, teasing him until he breaks.

  “Enough fucking around,” Andrew growls. He yanks me off the bed and bends me over it, my elbows braced against the mattress. He lands another spank on my ass, then grips it possessively. “Damn, I need to feel that tight pussy milking me dry. Are you ready, sweetheart?” he demands.

  My pussy clenches in answer. “Yes,” I gasp. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on.

  I hear the sound of a condom packet being ripped open, then his hands are on me again, sliding over my ass and delving down between my trembling thighs. He strokes over my clit until I’m moaning. Then I feel him, nudging against me with his huge cock.

  I expect him to be rough, possessive, but instead, he thrusts into me inch by thick, delicious inch.

  Yes.

  I groan, amazed at how deep he’s surging, how he’s filling me all the way up.

  Andrew braces himself over me, his breathing ragged in my ear. “Fuck,” he growls. “You’re so fucking tight.”

  I clench around him in answer, using my inner muscles to squeeze his cock.

  Andrew curses, then pulls out before slamming hard back into me.

  I let out a cry of pleasure, and rock back to meet his thrust.

  “Brace yourself, baby,” he demands. “I won’t go slow.”

  I grab the sheets as he pounds int
o me again, so deep. So good. Increasing his pace, Andrew works me with long draws and fast thrusts, his girth rubbing my walls with exquisite sensation. Another orgasm starts to build and I don’t try to fight it this time.

  “Yes!” Gripping the bed sheets, I’m lost to the tornado building deep between my thighs. “God, more, please!”

  “As you command.”

  I feel my cheeks part, and then his finger is there, delving, teasing at my ass. Holy shit! I’m too caught up in the incredible thrust of his cock to protest; the sensations all mingle in one incredible wave of pleasure.

  “Come for me,” he orders, pounding deep inside me again. “I want you to come all over my cock.”

  Slowly, his finger presses inside my ass as he thrusts. The dual sensation sends me over, the orgasm pulsing and pulling me toward mindless oblivion. His finger sinks deep as he rides me, his cock swelling, stretching me more.

  With a moan, he comes. The pulse of his release is long, hot, his pelvis slamming against me, ratcheting every sensation. My mind goes blank, the room fuzzy. My body is lifted—I’m floating with the damn angels—softness under my body, warmth all around and I let go.

  When I surface, I’m wrapped up in the bed sheet, Andrew asleep beside me on the bed. I blink, confused by the sunlight outside the windows.

  Wait, what time is it?

  With a bolt of panic, I sit up and look around to the clock on the nightstand. Five AM?! Dread uncurls in me. I fell asleep! My internship starts in two hours and I’m still naked, in bed with a man I don’t even know. Heart pounding, I look at him again, remembering how hard he made me come. How completely I surrendered control.

  It was incredible. Sensual. Mind-blowing.

  But it was all a lie.

  Spotting my dress on the floor near the windows, I creep slowly from the bed and retrieve it, hastily slipping into it. No idea where my panties are, or my bra. Hell, I don’t even have a coat to cover up this walk of shame. Grabbing my clutch to my chest, I tiptoe out of the room, trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to make it out of one of the best hotels in the city without looking like a tramp.

  Pausing at the bedroom door, I look back at him. We’ll never see each other again. But I don’t have time to be sad about that.

  In two hours, the rest of my life begins.

  Chapter Four

  Ten minutes to spare. I made it!

  Nerves threaten to break me as I park my car in the employee section in The Rexford’s parking garage. I’m never this much of an emotional mess. Leaving your bra and panties on the floor of a stranger’s room and almost being late for the most important day of your life will do this to a girl, I suppose.

  I can’t be thinking about Andrew right now. Not his hotness, not his hands. Certainly, not his huge—

  “Stop it, Juliet!” I hiss and pull down the rearview mirror to check my lipstick. I quickly showered back at Callie’s, but skipped washing my hair to save time. Humidity from the shower destroyed its beautiful sleekness, making it unruly as usual.

  Last night, I’d been an elegant, beautiful woman. Today, I’m back to regular Juliet.

  Even if the sweet ache between my legs reminds me just how amazing it was to be someone else for a while.

  I take the stairs and exit the garage. I don’t have a keycard for the employee entrance yet, so I have to enter through the front of the hotel. A graceful navy awning sparkling with hundreds of little white lights arches over golden carpet on the approach. I know the minutes are ticking by, but I can’t help but pause and look up at the stately greystone building just to take it in.

  “Miss.” The doorman greets me with a polite nod as he opens the glimmering glass doors.

  “Good morning,” I reply cheerily and step inside the grand lobby.

  A thrill rolls through me as I take a moment to savor the gleaming granite floors and teardrop chandeliers dipping from the recessed ceiling. Four marble columns line the room, while antique gold on blue wallpaper gives a stately feel.

  I follow a sign welcoming interns to the conference room and rush in with a minute to spare. The doors slam closed. I jump and glance over my shoulder. A rake-thin woman stands behind me in a crisp navy suit, her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun. She turns her nose up at me.

  “Thank you for joining us,” she snaps and breezes past. “Everyone, sit.”

  Heat flushes my face and I take a small, calming breath. There are ten other interns at the front of the room, all dressed in smart business attire like me.

  I find a seat next to a blonde woman with a friendly smile. She’s got curly hair and a cute patterned blouse.

  She side-eyes me with a whisper. “She’s a charmer, huh?”

  “Right? I’m Juliet,” I introduce myself.

  “Shauna,” she smiles. “I just moved here from San Francisco—”

  “Let’s begin.” We’re interrupted by a bark from the front of the room. The brisk woman is glaring at us all. “I am Edith Payne, internship director. Let me remind all of you how very fortunate you are to hold such a prestigious spot in The Rexford’s internship program. Hundreds applied. You were chosen. Don’t forget that.”

  My excitement rises, despite her sneer. I know I was chosen from hundreds. I’m going to work my ass off to do a good job. Nothing is going to screw this up.

  Nothing.

  Edith grabs a stack of folders from the table behind her and hands them to an intern to pass out.

  “In the next three months, you’ll rotate through every aspect of this magnificent hotel, from housekeeping, to basic administration and everything in between. You’ll find personal schedules inside your folders. Please clip on the included name tags.”

  My hands are shaking a little as I flip through the folder. There are pamphlets on employee etiquette and legal stuff, and a keycard to the employee entrance. I’m most interested in my assignment rotation.

  “I have reception first!” Shauna exclaims.

  “Me, too.” We discreetly bump fists. “Exactly what I was hoping for.”

  Satisfaction wells inside. I’m great with people, if not a little awkward in certain situations… like flirting. But I got over that in a hurry last night, didn’t I? The ache comes back to my thighs as if to agree. I shift on my seat and slide the papers back into my folder.

  Edith claps her hands and goes through a series of expectations and rules. After a solid ten minutes of pacing and reciting directives in monotone, she turns to face us.

  “Discretion.” She gives a dramatic pause before clasping her hands in front of her. “Discretion is an utmost priority at The Rexford, and extends to each guest, as well as the Rexford family. Before you leave today, you will review and sign the in-depth non-disclosure and discretion document inside your folder.”

  I wonder if the Rexfords are a scandalous bunch. Callie would know. She reads the society pages like it’s the gospel, but I don’t really keep up with gossip. I know little about the Rexford family beyond the history of its founder, Alastair Rexford, who financed construction of the original hotel in 1869 with money he won from extensive gambling.

  “We’ll begin our tour now. Leave your folders on your seats, please.”

  Shauna and I follow Edith out the door with the rest of the group. I look around and appreciate the arched hallway. There are hand painted golden roses on the ceiling, and golden accents in the wallpaper that set off the navy blue carpet with swirls of red, gold and black flowers.

  “Alexander wants it all, my money’s on him.”

  I glance behind me. Two of the guys in the program are talking, in know-it-all smug voices.

  “My dad is a corporate attorney,” the other brags. “He says this’ll be a dirty boardroom fight.”

  “I don’t know, Dom’s a Yale man. Like me.”

  I look to Shauna with a confused glance. She rolls her eyes. “Just stupid gossip. I swear the only reason some of these jerks are here is to have a front row seat into the Rexford brothers’
showdown.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She looks surprised. “You… don’t know about the power struggle going on?”

  “No?” I feel a little foolish. The last thing I can recall hearing was that the older brother, Dominic, was filing for divorce from his socialite wife. Callie had read the announcement from the paper, but I’d only been half listening. It didn’t seem important at the time.

  Shauna subtly looked around before leaning in. “Dominic inherited fifty-one percent stake in the Rexford Company after his parents died a few years ago. You knew that much, right?”

  I nod like I do, but the truth is I’m clueless.

  “The younger brother, Alexander, is back. He’s been sleeping his way around Europe for the past four years and racing that fancy car of his. Apparently, he had enough of that and decided he wants control of Rexford. Although what a playboy like that is going to do with a global hotel brand, I don’t even know.”

  One of the guys behind us pushes in. “Xander wants to upgrade the entire global line of Rexford hotels, starting with this one. Dominic refuses though, he’s stuck in the past.”

  “Or playing it safe,” the other guy argues.

  “Please, this place needs a total gut renovation to bring it out of the dark ages.” He sneers at the beautiful décor.

  “Are you insane?” I gasp, indignant. “Why would you want to remodel? This place has been untouched since the Great Fire of 1871. The outer south wall is constructed from stone blocks salvaged from the original building, char marks and all. This building was the first known greystone to be erected in the city, twenty years before the style became a Chicago cornerstone.” As I hear my dad’s words pour out of my mouth, I feel a sense of pride well up in my chest. He taught me well.