The Hotel

The Hotel

Thank you to EditingAlix for supporting me in the editing process of this story.

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As Paul made his way through the warren of hallways in the hunt for his room, the hum of the band grew distant. The tempo had slowed just over an hour earlier, replacing the belting power ballads of the early evening with the honeyed tones of a lounge singer, purring the lyrics of Black Velvet into the mic. Paul was imbued with a hazy warmth, courtesy of the full-bodied Merlot that accompanied the nine-course extravaganza masquerading as a meal.

An evening of good food, excellent wine and exquisite company had left him with a mellow disposition and a murmur of anticipation. But as he slid his hotel key into the slot and heard the satisfying click accompanied by a flicker of green light, it was the delicate beauty by his side commanding his undivided attention.

As he pushed the door aside and stepped into the room, the ethereal Sarah relinquished her grasp of his waist, peeling away and making her excuses to 'freshen up'.

Paul sank into the easy chair by the window, undid the shoelaces of his highly polished brogues and kicked them to one side, delighting in the feel of the sumptuous carpet beneath his feet. Drawing air deep into his lungs, he removed the gold cufflinks from his dress shirt. They clinked onto the dresser as he released the shackles of the bow tie, leaving it to hang loose. With that, Paul tilted his head back, permitting himself to savour the tingle of arousal brought on by anticipation of what would come next.

This night had been a long time coming.

If only he had known. He had often quipped that men do not do signs and signals, hints and semiotics--but to have been so blind? Steep learning curve. All the time he had been looking in the wrong places, for the wrong things, when what he wanted been right under his very nose.

Sarah was, in many respects, a powerhouse: talented, resilient and intelligent--qualities he deeply admired. However, in other respects, there was a quietness, a devotion and a submissive air about her.

This evening she had spoken intelligently, with great passion and ferocity, about the charity they were there to support. Her work--running a network of shelters, providing women sanctuary from abusive relationships and violent backgrounds--had won her numerous awards and commendations. However, it took mere moments in her company to establish that it was her drive to lift the lid on domestic violence and raise awareness of the available support networks that brought her to these events, rather than any ambition for accolades and recognition.

In truth, Sarah preferred to shun the spotlight.

A quiet soul.

Guest speaker, Paul, used to being the loudest voice in the room, was bewitched by Sarah's quiet composure. Her respectful rebukes of her opponents and grace in navigating the most taboo aspects of her day to day endurances, well, they were beyond reproach.

However, beneath Sarah's composure, Paul had seen something else... vulnerability... desperation... sadness?

No.

She was haunted--by the secrets she knew, confidences she kept, problems she couldn't fix, horrors she couldn't un-see. No one could erase the evils she had borne witness to, nor right the wrongs of the past. But that didn't mean she could not herself be saved.

A click.

Paul heard the bathroom door swing open and watched as Sarah coquettishly approached.

He was not one for games.

However, despite the fact that they were well aware of why they had ended up in his room in the wee small hours, her coyness did not feel like the pretence of shyness.

'Hey,' she offered, feigning composure.

'Hey,' Paul lowered his chin, gazing up at her as he felt his mouth widen into a relaxed grin.

A whisper this time, 'I have a confession', followed by a girlish giggle.

Paul couldn't conceal his amusement and laughed in spite of himself.

'Go on...' he growled suggestively.

Sarah's hand covered her mouth to disguise her embarrassment as she averted her gaze.

"I've developed something of an...oral fixation around you."

Christ. Paul was completely disarmed, as he had been unprepared for such candour. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling himself stir to life. The warm, fuzzy feeling previously residing in his head meandered to his now twitching cock.

"Have you, now?" his eyes fixed on her intently, not wanting to give anything away. Let her come to him... go at her pace.

The emerald-green evening gown clinging to her soft curves shimmered in the low lighting during her tentative approach. Saying not a word, he watched, mesmerised by the simple act of her tucking her red locks behind her ear and plucking the sparkling gems nestling in her earlobes. She laid them next to his cufflinks, all the while never breaking eye contact.

Paul's knees parted gratefully as she stepped between them, and he breathed in her scent, unsullied by artificial perfumes or lotions, just the faint hint of soap on her soft skin. Sarah leant close enough to kiss his forehead gently. Not a word was spoken when he cupped her face possessively in his hands, stroking her velvet skin with his thumbs. Their mouths found each other, and he felt her fingertips travel slowly up his inner thighs. When their tongues met, Paul groaned in satisfaction pulling her closer and making her gasp in delight.

Both were breathless when Sarah pulled back. Paul's eyes flashed. Every last ounce of self-control dissolved when she slid the skimpy straps from her shoulders. The dress shimmied down her body, revealing her small, perfect breasts as it came to rest on her hips. Unable to stop himself, he reached forward. An arm encircled her so he could caress her pert ass. Drawing her towards him, he placed his mouth on her apricot nipple, which stiffened immediately under the caress of his tongue. A sharp gasp and her arching back encouraged him to tighten his grip. Squeezing his fingertips into her ass, he sucked firmly, nipping her lightly with his teeth.

The disappointment at Sarah pulling away was quickly replaced by a rush of adrenaline. She laid her hands on his knees and sank onto hers, bringing his crotch directly into her field of vision.

'Uhhhh...God...ffuuuccck!' he sucked in his breath through his teeth. She worked at his belt and with a clink of metal on metal and a swish of the leather, it was off. He raked his hands through her gleaming hair, tugging slightly as she then fumbled with his buttons and zipper. He tightened his grip. A moan of appreciation--so she likes it rough, good to know. Sarah gripped the waist of the trousers together with his boxers. A slight lift of his hips, and he sprang free, all the material gathered at his ankles.

Paul felt strangely more naked in this state of partial undress than if Sarah had simply removed all his clothes. This became irrelevant when she laid her hands on him. Her thumb rotated in small circles until her fingers slipped up and down easily, his pre-cum a natural lubricant. She moved agonisingly slowly at first, but the more he groaned in appreciation, the faster her hand, gradually beating him into a frenzy.

An abrupt stop.

Snapping his eyes open, he looked up in time to see her gather her hair and twist it, so it hung down her back. A moment later, her hand gripped his cock again but as she pressed down on him, the journey made by her hand was followed by her greedy mouth. Paul tensed then relaxed, crying out. She pressed down firmly with her mouth and caressed him with her tongue on the return journey, sucking gently and fluttering kisses up and down his shaft. The heat from her mouth was glorious. At the mercy of the relentless rhythm till he thought he might burst, Paul tightened his fists. Gripping Sarah tightly by the hair, he urged her lower and lower down his shaft. This seemed to spur her on even more and he felt the tip of his throbbing cock touch the back of her throat.

It took considerable willpower for Paul to relinquish his grip and pull himself out of Sarah's mouth. He wanted to finish inside her, meeting her gaze as he pinned her to the Egyptian cotton sheets. Sarah tried to protest but he placed his index finger on her mouth, tracing her lip. For the briefest of moments, he allowed her to kiss and suck his fingertips. But no, he would not be distracted. Cupping her ass with both hands, he lifted her into his arms, and she obligingly wrapped her legs round his waist. She stroked the smattering of dark hair on his broad chest while he carried her to the queen size bed. God, she was light as a feather! Once she was in place, settled on the plumped-up pillows, he hastily undid his shirt buttons, almost losing a few in the process. Paul's hands found Sarah's tiny waist and he slid her dress down her body. It pooled on the floor at the end of the bed. He took hold of her feet, abruptly pulling her towards him. Her legs buckled and he pushed them apart, bent at the knees.

A flicker of excitement in her piercing green eyes goaded him into ripping from her body the only garment that remained, a delicate lace thong which was soon carelessly discarded. Paul leant in, planting a flurry of kisses on her stomach before easing his head between her legs so he could bury his face in her slit. His tongue went to work on the tightened bundle of nerve endings, and she writhed beneath him. Her breathing turned rapid, and her hips strained towards him, wanting more. Paul held her in place, teasing, caressing, changing pace and intensity, stroking from the backs of her knees to the curve of her ass bringing her close to the edge of a climax, then pulling back.

Paul crawled up Sarah's body pinning her wrists above her head and securing her hips with his knees. Her mock protest and flurry of movement made Paul smile to himself. He was strong--he worked out regularly and maintained a high level of fitness. If her efforts to escape had been genuine rather than part of the dance, he could overpower her without breaking a sweat. However, Sarah stilled, biting her lower lip. Submitting to him, she languished under the weight and heat of his body.

He found her breath-taking--face flushed with arousal, a mist of sweat glistening on her pink skin and hair trailing in dishevelled tangles courtesy of their frenzied encounter. He eased his cock into her, watching her expression cloud over in bliss. He rolled his hips in undulating waves, feeling her clench and tighten round him in response. Paul went slow and deep, enjoying every nuance of Sarah's expression until, in one heart stopping moment, she cried out, shock waves coursing through her as she climaxed. Stroking her hair and face, Paul stopped holding back and slammed into her... one... two... three times, tipping over the edge himself and collapsing by his lover's side. When his ragged breathing finally settled, Paul rolled on his side and held his beautiful companion possessively in his arms. She curled into him sated and compliant.

Paul had his queen, his conquest, his prize and that very moment, he resolved to protect this lovely creature with every fibre of his being and never let her go.