by Hart, Alexa
“Sir, we’re here.” The driver informs us in a thick accent, pulling the car to a stop under the thick glass awning of our hotel. Well, it isn’t really a hotel. Julian booked our rooms at the Shard, the tallest building in London. I don’t even want to think about how absurdly expensive the week-long stay is.
The lobby is dark and cold, albeit strangely comforting. The walls, ceiling and floor are entirely smooth slate, a matte charcoal color, offset by the clean glass entrance and the chrome elevator doors just off to the left of the expansive room. Julian checks us in quickly, grabbing our bags from the bellhop and tipping him anyway.
“Come on.” He gestures towards the elevator, our respective room keys in hand. I meet his long strides despite my heels, joining him against the back wall of the well-lit elevator. Our rooms are on the 40th floor, and the several moments it takes for us to reach our destination are filled with electricity. I can practically feel the sparks emanating from him in our close proximity. I wrack my brain for something to say, something to ease the tension, but come up unbearably short. Instead, I hold his eyes, silently questioning him.
When the high-pitched ding finally rings out, saving me from his devouring stare, I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, my lungs burning a little bit from the strain.
Julian pushes off from the back wall of the confined space, leading me towards my room. When we reach the mahogany entrance, he slides the keycard into the reader with ease, pushing the door open and holding it there with his foot.
His eyes roll over me, drinking me in from head to toe as he swallows hard.
“Well, I suppose this is goodnight.” He informs me, and for the first time, there is a distinct lack of conviction in his voice.
“I suppose it is.” I murmur, licking my lips and staring at his. Julian pauses for a beat before dropping our luggage carelessly onto the blue carpeted floor, his soft hands gripping the sides of my face and pulling me to him, devouring me in a desperate and breathless kiss.
I welcome it, clutching inside his suit jacket, pulling him closer. His lips are soft and firm against mine -- leading me -- deep and rushed. Abandoning our bags, and his coat in the hallway, Julian propels us into the room, kicking the door shut behind us and not bothering to turn the lights on.
“Are you sure about this?” He whispers against my lips, ruggedly, pulling away just enough to breathe the words as he nibbles on my lower lip. I nod, cutting through the dark to hold his emerald eyes with my own for a moment, long enough to let him know I’m serious, before reaching up to capture him in a kiss once more, allowing my eyes to drift shut into the embrace.
Sliding his grip up my hips to my waist, he rests his hands there, his fingers firm and surely creating indents against my skin in their effort to bring me impossibly closer. Never relinquishing his hold on me, he slides one hand to the middle of my back, tugging at the fabric of my sweater, untucking it with ease. I can’t help but shiver as the tips of his fingers brush against the skin of my bare back as he inches the fabric up further and further. The sensation is cool, and prickly. Like a million tiny needles puncturing my skin in the most tantalizing and torturous way. My chest heaves against his with anticipation of where his soft touch will travel to next. Pulling away from me, he steps back just a few inches, just enough to fully gaze at me. He lifts the cashmere sweater up over my head, leisurely dropping it to the floor and reaching around the unhook my bra, freeing it from my body with ease and licking his lips as the lacy fabric catches on the swell of my breasts. Leaning down, he licks me through the prohibiting material, slow and hot. The strange and erotic gesture sending heatwaves deep in my stomach as I work not to let a moan escape my lips. His movements are deliberate, his lips encasing my right nipple, tweaking at its peak with his warm tongue as his deft fingers mirror the movements on my left. I arch into him, practically feeding myself to him, and he grips me tighter, unforgiving, bruising, like a man starved.
After a few moments of this particular brand of torture, he pulls away, leaving me gasping at the strange sensation of the hot wet fabric on my shivering skin. With a short-easy tug, the scrap of black lace material falls from my frame, landing on the sweater discarded at my feet. I stand perfectly still under his riveted gaze, allowing him to undo the button of my pants, tugging them until they fall. His strong arms grip my elbows, steadying me while I step out of my heels, and kick my outfit to the side. Without the help of the heels, he towers over me and now, in nothing but a midnight-black lace thong, my whole body shakes, just slightly, under his gaze. At the vulnerability of it all. I am all but naked, and Julian stands before me, still fully dressed in his beautiful charcoal three-piece suit, the same one he tried on for me the day we went suit shopping. His gaze travels down my body, drinking me in, mesmerized, before lifting back up to meet my own.
“You’re exquisite.” He mutters, almost to himself as his fingertips brush my hips, teasing me for a moment before looping around the edge of my panties and pulling them down. He bends with his movements, kneeling at my feet, his eyes catching mine as his knee hits the dark carpeted floor.
“Lift,” he prompts, pulling the material from around each foot and dispensing it on the floor beside him, already forgotten. I expect him to stand once more, but he doesn't. Instead he remains there, on one knee, smirking at my obvious wonderment.
“Relax, beautiful.” He orders me, gently planting kisses at the tops of my thighs, and allowing his hands to leisurely graze up and down the sensitive skin at the backs of my legs, tickling me slightly as they go, feather-light and butterfly-inducing. The sensations are almost too much, boiling in my core and begging for him to touch me there. I can feel my own wetness pooling at the junction of my thighs, and I’m positive he can see it. Tangling my fingers in his soft dark hair, my chest heaves as I work to steady my breathing.
“Julian,” the struggled plea escapes my lips, prompted by the tip of his finger trailing from the top of my thigh across my mound, just barely missing my clit as it makes its way back down my other leg. He chuckles darkly, enjoying my reaction to the sensuous torture.
“So eager,” he murmurs against my skin, amused, as he leans in to plant butterfly kisses across my bare mound. A frustrated breath escapes my lips, wishing he’d trail his attentions downward, just a bit. What will it feel like?
“Wait.” I breathe, tugging his dark hair and forcing his eyes to meet mine. His movements still immediately, and I can feel the worry flowing off of him.
Standing, his fingers capture my jaw in a firm grip, willing me look at him. He studies me for a few tender seconds, apprehension overtaking his handsome features.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, um,” I stutter, unsure of how to say what I want to say. Or if I even want to say it.
I can feel my face grow hot as I fight through my inner thoughts, praying he can’t see the blush through the dark. Of course he can, though. His brow furrows at me, a concerned pout forming on his full lips, illuminated only by the city lights cutting through the glass windows on the far side of the room, behind me.
“Don’t be uncomfortable, just tell me what you’re thinking.” He orders gently, his fingers combing soothingly through the hair that frames my face as he waits.
“I’ve never done this before.” I admit quietly. I’ve also never told anyone either. The heat on my face doesn't dissipate with my small words, only growing hotter with each passing moment my words go without a response, scorching me under his attention. After a few seconds of heavy silence, I force myself to glance up at him, his imposing height requiring it.
His lips are curved slightly in disbelief, and maybe a hint of amusement, lending a sparkle in his emerald eyes. He is looking at me in wonderment.
“This was stupid, I shouldn’t have—” I start to pull away, embarrassed by my own admission, but his sudden grip around my waist stops me, crashing my body into his as his gaze burns into mine, his small smile growing into a full blown smirk now
, alluring and infuriating.
“But I’ve heard stories – your father complaining about men walking around your house naked? Something about a senator’s son?” Julian asks, bemused and already putting the answers together in his head but still wanting confirmation.
“You’d be surprised at the discounts local escorts will give you when you tell them you just want to piss your parents off.” I explain dryly, though the memories of my father’s face are fond.
Julian throws his head back in a fit of laughter, his brain probably trying to construct an image of the memories I’m thinking of. I roll my eyes, my discomfort overtaking any humor I might otherwise find in the conversation. After a moment of pure and utter amusement, he regains himself, his now-predatory grin centered back on me.
“You’re a virgin?” Julian asks, wanting me to say it out loud. I nod, but he doesn’t budge, waiting expectantly.
Chapter 7
Ryan
“Yes.”
The mood of the room changes almost instantaneously, from light and fun to fiery. So intense that I shift under his gaze, constricted by the strength of his grip and his close proximity. The air around him tugs at me like a magnet.
“If you don’t want to do this it’s okay, Ryan. We can just lay, or I can leave.” His voice is soft and concerned, trying to tempt me with the genuine offer, and I swear I can hear a subtle hint of guilt in his tone. Studying me intently, he searches for any sign of regret or fear. He won’t find it.
“I want to do this.”
He gazes at me in one last hunt for hesitation before bowing his head down to catch my lips in an impossibly soft kiss. It is slow and deep, unlike before. He is savoring every drop of me, coaxing me into him with each swipe of his soft and talented tongue. Tangling his hands gently in the hair at the nape of my neck, he pulls me closer, nipping at my skin and surely leaving bruises in the places his possessive fingers dig into my hips.
“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable, or you want to stop, okay?” He pulls away from me for one mere moment, his struggled breath mingling with my own as his forehead rests against mine, his words coming out like a pleading.
“I will, I promise.” I reassure him. The small sentence must have been enough to quell his worries because as soon as they roll from my tongue his grip descends, looping around my thighs and lifting me into his arms.
I wrap my legs securely around his waist for support as he walks us backwards, climbing onto the plush hotel bed gracefully despite my added weight, and laying me beneath him. Julian’s kiss never falters with his movements, enrapturing me, drinking greedily until I am left breathless as he pulls away, trailing warm kisses along my jaw, to the sensitive stretch of skin just below my ear. I can’t help but arch into him at the strangely erotic sensation, every nerve in my body on absolute over-dive.
Julian travels downward, planting sensual, open mouthed kisses across my clavicle, and downward along the junction where my ribcage separates. Lifting my neck, I catch a glimpse of his wicked eyes as he nibbles the sensitive skin at the lowest part of my stomach. Looping his arms around my thighs, he tightens his grip on my hips to spread my legs with ease. Letting my head fall back into the soft comforter, I know what is coming next.
The soft, hot sensation of Julian’s tongue as he deliberately licks up my slit almost makes me scream in surprise.
“Oh.” I stutter, all I can manage as my hands fly into his hair, feeling his lips curve into a devilish grin against my pussy. He does it again, this time flattening his tongue firm against me, tormenting me with the delicious sensation that is almost, but not enough to bring me to the edge.
“You taste fucking amazing.” Julian tells me, continuing his attentions. I moan at the steamy combination of his words and movements, tugging on his hair in an attempt to create more friction.
He chuckles against me at the gesture, chastising me for being so impatient; his voice dominant and endearing at the same time, adding to my already impossible wetness. Disconnecting from me, Julian sits back onto his knees, his eyes devouring me as I lay completely naked in front of him. He shrugs his suit jacket from his shoulders resolutely throwing it to the floor, like it doesn’t cost more than a night in our hotel-penthouse, and reaches to unbutton his matching vest.
Sitting up, I stop his fingers, replacing them with my own as I finish the job, removing the material from his frame, and drifting my focus to his silk dress shirt, the last layer separating our skin. The buttons release with ease, each one showing inch after tantalizing inch of his perfectly sculpted torso, his chest smattered with just the perfect amount of deep black hair. Julian shrugs slightly, helping me to remove the offending material from his arms, but as soon as it is gone he reaches up, swiftly catching my hands as they search for the waist of his slacks. I meet his eyes, confused at the gesture.
“Lay down.” He commands me, his voice soft and unyielding, a comforting sort of sound. I do as he asks, dropping my hands back to the bed and letting my fingers tangle in the fabric of the comforter as the anticipation eats at me. Julian leans over me, leaving his pants in place, planting hot kisses in the nape of my neck.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.” His kisses trail up, behind my ear, unrelenting as my chest heaves beneath him.
“I’ve been watching you for weeks, through the glass of my office. Imagining what it’d be like to kiss you, what you’d taste like.” Julian trails his fingers between my thighs as he speaks, running one along my slit. He doesn’t penetrate me, instead he keeps his touch shallow and torturing, causing my legs to shake around him.
“Suck.” He orders me, lifting his finger to my mouth and running my own juices across my bottom lip before forcing his way inside. I press my tongue against his touch, doing as he commands, finding much more ease in the submissive action than I thought I would. A low, deep growl emanates from Julian’s chest as he watches me obey him. “I’ve imagined how delicious your lips would look wrapped around me, sweetheart. Nothing I’ve dreamt up could have done you justice.
Withdrawing his finger, Julian grips my jaw harshly, capturing me in a deep kiss. His grip lowers, spanning across my throat, tightening. It isn’t enough to choke me, just a silent and erotic threat that he could at any moment.
“Ryan,” he turns serious, pulling back to look at me, at his hand around my throat. I bite my lip, waiting for whatever he has to say. “I’ll be gentle with you here,” he cups at my core with his free hand as he speaks, “but you’re mine, and I’m going to treat you as such.”
I nod at him, slightly, strained under the pressure of his grip around my throat.
“Good girl. Now,” he plants a small approving kiss against my bottom lip, “let’s discuss my rules.”
A shudder runs through my body as I register his dark and promising words. Rules? What kind of rules?
“First, from here on out you will call me sir. Don't worry,” he adds at the slight panic that I’m sure floods my eyes. “You work for me, no one will think anything of it. Except maybe shock at your newfound respect for the boss.”
Julian chuckles darkly, waiting. “Yes, sir.” I whisper, tasting the strange new word. I expected it to feel awkward, or out of place on my tongue, but it doesn’t. Instead it rolls off with ease, sounding at home in my voice.
“Second, from here on out, no more panties. Not unless I specifically tell you to wear them.” I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off, “this is just for the trip, Ryan. We’ll settle on new rules when we get home.” His voice is momentarily comforting, silent for a moment as I mull over his words before finally ceding.
“Yes, sir.”
Julian smirks, continuing. “Third, you never come without my permission. You got that?”
I nod at him, my mind lost in the sudden worry that I won’t be able to control it.
“Good, fourth; you’ll do what I say, when I say it. No hesitation, no questions. Got it? And if you disobey, you’ll be punished.”
&n
bsp; I squirm under the weight of this one, unsure if I can commit to total obedience. Julian’s eyes sparkle at my clear indecision, and something tells me he’s hoping I’ll struggle with this.
“What kind of punishment?”
“Whatever kind I want, beautiful.” My pussy floods at the dark promise of his words, and I nod almost too quickly.
“Yes sir.”
Julian smirks at me, perceiving my excitement.
“Good girl. Now, undo my slacks.” I do as he commands, my fingers drifting down to unbutton the charcoal pants, tugging on the small zipper until he is freed – I am surprised to find him following his own rule, a notable lack of undergarments keeping him from my wandering touch.
When I feel him beneath my fingertips, hard as a rock and yet somehow soft, a newfound confidence blazes through my veins. I grip him, tight, springing his length free from the constricting pants as he kicks his shoes off with ease.
“Juli—Sir.” I correct myself, “I don’t know how that's—how you’re possibly going to fit.”
“Shh beautiful,” Julian plants a small butterfly kiss on my nose, before moving to my mouth to capture me in a reassuring kiss. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes… Yes sir.” I correct myself at the last moment, registering his chastising glance.
“I’m going to be gentle with you tonight, Ryan. Tonight, we’ll have soft and slow. But tomorrow, I’m going to show you a whole new world of pleasure you can’t even imagine.”
Julian whispers into my ear with conviction, and I believe him. Shedding his pants skillfully, he lays between my knees fully naked, the thick imposing head of his shaft resting casually against my slit.
Julian reaches into the pocket of his slacks, pulling out what I assume is a condom. It’s impossible to see anything through the dark of the room, and if I could I would just see him. The sound of aluminum ripping fills my ears as Julian makes sure we’re protected, and after a moment his attentions are turned back to me.