Staycation Pt. 01

Standing beside him as he checked us into the hotel, I was giddy with excitement. I could feel my hard nipples brushing and catching the warm lace lying flush to my skin and, when I shifted my weight, I could feel the flimsy material sliding along bare sensitive skin further down. A pink blush spread up my cheeks imagining his surprise at the sight of the teddy; he hadn't seen me in lingerie... yet.

He took the keycard from the desk and smiled his thanks before swinging our one bag over his shoulder and lacing his fingers with mine. We made it to the elevator and pressed the button for 7 before the bag dropped and his body was inches from mine. One large hand landed on either side of my shoulders, pinning me to the wall without ever touching me. I glanced up at him through my lashes, not trusting my voice, catching my lower lip between my teeth. His smouldering stare looked down at me: intense, hot, unwavering. Agonizingly slowly, his head descended until his lips were a whisper from my ear.

"You're mine, Princess," the words hardly more than a warm breeze against my sensitive skin in the still air of the elevator. The words a promise, a threat; longing and determination rolled into one. Suddenly, he pushed away from the wall and hoisted the bag in movie-perfect timing for the doors to slide open. A step towards the doors, a hand proffered back to me. This time when our bare skin connected, my breath caught as sparks shot up and coursed through my body. He must have felt it too because the short walk down the empty corridor was rushed, the door card fumbled into the lock. And, once inside, the door abruptly closed, bag discarded to the side and he was on me again - big body stepping closer and closer until the distance was closed.

I could feel his body heat, despite the winter layering of clothes. His lips caught mine, passionate and demanding my submission. His hands deftly unzipped my parka; his surprise when his hands touched my bare shoulders unexpectedly broke off the kiss. My face flushed as his attention turned, boring into my bare shoulders and the maroon lace decorating my chest. As his hands slid the jacket from my bare arms, his eyes tracked the movement, watching more of my soft creamy skin come into the golden light filtering in from between the slatted blinds of the suite.

As the jacket slid to the floor, his fingers wrapped around my wrists and brought them above my head. His attention remained on my cleavage as he easily pinned both of my wrists with one hand against the back of the door. His eyes met mine a second before his free hand trailed softly down my face, over my cheek, my jaw, my neck and lower still. My eyes fluttered as my lis betrayed me with soft sounds of need. My nipples were taut, my core wet and pulsing, demanding attention. As he palmed my right breast in his hand, his lips returned to mine. Demanding, persuading, conveying an intense urgency of need I could feel reflected in my own body.

As his palm massaged my breast and his finger flicked at the nipple straining behind the lace, his lips left mine to travel down my neck. His hand reluctantly released my chest and traced the neckline of my teddy, like walking a bridge over a valley, before taking my left breast into his hand. Sighing, I arched my body into his, feeling the taut muscles and hard length hiding behind his own layered clothes. Wanting to take his coat off, I began pulling my wrists against his hand. He smiled against my neck and pulled back to spear me with his brilliant eyes.

"What are you doing?"

My cheeks deepened their blush as both of his hands tightened on my body, his knee coming between my legs, his body rock hard against my own. "I wanted to take your coat off," it sounded feeble even to my own ears.

"Mmhmm," a low rumble as he gave me a measuring stare. "That's not how tonight will work, Princess. You're mine. I call the shots." My teeth caught my lower lip as heat pooled once more between my legs; at this rate I wouldn't be surprised if I left a wet mark on my jeans. This man was driving me mindless with desire. He cocked his head to the side as if listening. "I didn't hear your reply," a statement, the promise of how tonight will go if I consent. If I submit.

My lips quirk up as I meet his eyes briefly, shining bright with the anticipation of the game, of the transaction of power about to occur. Quickly, I drop my gaze to look down his body. "Yes, Sir," a breathless promise of pleasure.

He smiles then, a predatory look about him, before he releases his hold on me. "Stay there while I get the room ready."

I hold my place at the door while he wanders to the bath, stoppering the tub and running hot water. He meanders in further, opening our bag, taking out a brown bottle and placing it beside the bed. A foil pouch emerges next and is sat beside the running water of the tap. Finally a bottle of champagne is withdrawn and placed on the table beside two fluted glasses. Checking on the level of the bath, he removes his coat, draping it over the back of a chair, placed in the middle of the room. Sitting down to face me, he smiles at my compliance. "Good girl. Take everything off but the teddy."

I step forward one, two steps, cheeks colouring at the excitement and nervousness of stripping on display. Shyly, I push the wayward locks of brown hair from my face before running my hands down my body. The red is rich and deep, the lace airy and soft; it hugs my body and i feel confident, attractive and the tiniest bit slutty. I step out of my boots and kick them in the direction of the door while making a slow spin. As my back is to him, I pop the button on my jeans. The zipper is just reaching the bottom as I return to face him. His eyes at riveted to my pelvis, to the point where the teddy disappears behind the course jeans; I can see the arousal on his face, against the fabric of his pants, and I smile coyly. Hooking my fingers into my belt loops, I shimmy my jeans down. Turning my back on him once more, I bend over, showing him my ass as I free my legs from the jeans before tossing them in the direction of my boots. The only fabric marring the nakedness of my skin is a thin band of maroon lace around the middle of my back and a g-string holding the teddy to my body.

I turn back around as I hear him stand. He turns off the bath and empties the foil packet into the water before encroaching on my space. Without breaking eye contact, his shirt is raised up and removed, discarded by the tub. As he walks closer and closer to me, he undoes his pants slowly, deliberately.

"On your knees," the command simple, his voice strained, as he comes to a stop before me. As I drop to my knees, he frees his cock from his shorts, his head already glistening and damp. I smile fleetingly at the knowledge that his underwear must be a mess of precum.

My palms press against his thighs as my tongue emerges to lick the very tip of his dick. His groan is so low, I pretend not to have heard it. My tongue runs over the tip, dipping ever so gently into the well at the top; flicking, licking, circling, attending to just the head. I make slow and deliberate work of his head, often bringing my tongue into my mouth to savour his taste. It isn't long before his hand raises, fists in my hair and urges me closer, deeper, with carnal noises of need rumbling from his chest and belying how aroused he is. I take his cock as far into my mouth as I can, sucking hard as I pull away. Over and over, slowly with languid deliberation, until his fingers tighten, his muscles tense and he pulls himself from my mouth. I pick my lips and look up with the question in my eyes.

"I have to be in you," his need is blatant, raw and matches my own. "On the bed," his voice is deep and husky. His hand on my elbow helps me up, his lips on mine press me back into the room, toward the bed. My knees hit the mattress and I tumble backward with him on top of me. His eyes search mine, waiting for my ongoing consent. My hips circle and press up against him, inviting more. He shifts, one hand dipping low to move the fabric aside, and he enters me with one hard thrust while his lips murmur my name against my neck. I am so wet his cock slips easily in, stretching, filling, and his name escapes my lips like a sigh. My head rolls on the bed, allowing him unlimited access to my neck and collarbone.

One, two, three strokes and he is groaning his pleasure, straining against my body, my name tumbling from his lips like a lovers caress.

My lips curve up in a smug smile as he catches me eye. "Your mouth is just too good," he says by way of explanation. I kiss him deeply and he rests his forehead against mine before pulling out and helping me off the bed. "I ran you a bath with black salt and rose petals and... something else," he shakes the missing details from his mind as he walks me over to the bath. Fingers easily sliding the lace from my shoulders, he slips the flimsy lace from my body, the teddy landing beside his shirt on the floor.

He keeps hold of my elbow, helping me into the bath and the water is the perfect temperature. Rose petals drift lazily on the water and I can see some of the salt left to dissolve on the bottom of the tub; it smells like a field of wildflowers. As I slide my body into the soft, fragrant water, he writhers out of his pants and shorts. "I have tuber rose massage oil for when you're out and champagne for later this evening." I smile fondly at his care, the details he has put into making tonight happen. Snatching his hand, I tug, the invitation to join me in the bath plain.