Hot Night With A Stranger
Two Weeks Ago
I am supposed to be downstairs.
In the grand ballroom, sipping wine and mingling with the rich and powerful to the sound of old classical music.
Instead, I am upstairs.
In an expensive suite.
With a man.
We are both still wearing our masquerade masks, too tipsy to take them off—along with everything else. But even with the mask, I have a feeling.
He is extremely handsome.
There is something about him—his presence, the way he carries himself. I imagine a sculpted jawline beneath the shadows, tousled black hair falling just right.
Dangerously attractive.
His hands—strong, veiny—guide me toward the bed.
My breath hitches as he lays me down, my skin flushing under his touch. Every inch of me feels too sensitive, too aware.
Too exposed.
His fingertips brush against my skin, slow and deliberate, like he is memorizing me. A soft gasp slips from my lips before I can stop it.
Then his touch drifts higher.
Warmer.
Bolder.
His fingers ghost over my chest, teasing, testing—until I feel them press lightly against my n*****s.
And just like that—
My breath catches.
My body betrays me.
And I melt.
“Does that feel good?” his smooth, silky voice says in my ears.
“Yes…” I breathe out rapidly. “I want you inside me, Mr. stranger.”
I don't even know what I'm saying.
I wrap my legs around his torso, feeling warm liquid slip down my thighs. I’m so wet, it’s scary.
“You’re so wet, beautiful,” he mumbles into my ears, and at the sound of his voice again, goosebumps spread through my back.
Angling his hips for easy penetration, I feel the tip of his member against me, and I open wider for easy access.
I am so slippery that he slides into me with one swift motion, and I scream out in pleasure.
If we weren’t on the top floor, I’m sure the parties would’ve heard me.
The handsome stranger grunts in pleasure. He draws a shuddering breath, going still for a moment as if trying to gain control. My back arches, waiting impatiently for his thrusts.
“Please…” comes my voice, low and embarrassingly desperate.
“Shh…” he hisses against my neck.
His hot lips trail down my collarbone to claim my n*****s, sucking on each one like his life depends on it.
Then, without warning, he starts to thrust, and I lose myself completely, my body trembling with each movement. Short, sharp gasps escape me, each one a testament to the dizzying pleasure coursing through me.
Every motion sends shivers through my spine, igniting a fire that seems impossible to contain.
He moves faster, harder, and I feel myself teetering on the edge, my breaths shallow, my heart racing.
The world narrows to the rhythm of him inside me, every touch electrifying, every glance of his eyes burning into mine. And then, with a groan that vibrates against my chest, he comes, and I feel him release within me, a warmth that leaves me both shivering and satisfied.
I smile, a dazed, blissful grin, letting him collapse onto me, our bodies entwined, slick with sweat. Fatigue wraps around me, pulling me gently into the dark, irresistible arms of sleep, where dreams mix with lingering sensations.
