Shadowed Cravings: erotic cum-pilation

Themes: Mysterious stranger, slow burn, one night-stand, BDSM.

The call came in just as he was clocking out.

Jace didn’t need to check the screen to know who it was. A sigh escaped his lips as he wondered if he’d ever get a break from the client who ordered late at night, mostly when he was about to check out.

It was the client from the penthouse suite, the same client who ordered at odd hours.

Not wanting to stall him or delay his own checking out later than it already was, he picked up. “Room service, Jace speaking. Good evening, how may I help?”

“Same order,” the client said coldly, a hint of boredom in his deep voice. “Send it up hot.”

The line clicked dead after that, and despite serving more than once now, the coldness still felt unfamiliar to him. He wasn’t even polite enough to give a “thank you” or “please”.

Jace sighed and pulled the latest ticket from the printer. A rare steak, sautéed mushrooms, and a bottle of 2018 Cabernet. The order was complicated, of course—except the man who ordered it.

Within minutes, Jace had the order packed and rolling on a trolley toward the private elevator. He hit the “PH” button and leaned against the railing, watching the floors tick up as time stretched into what felt like eternity.

He’d done deliveries all over the hotel Athena—businessmen, celebrities, influencers—but none quite like him. The penthouse occupant was quiet, strangely polite without ever saying please, and always half-dressed. He was either shirtless, draped in a robe and as Jace had once met him, naked, save for the tight briefs that did a good job exposing his impressive bulge and perfect ass.

Jace shook the thought away from his mind, knowing how unprofessional it was to ogle at his client but he could at least be truthful with himself: he did feel attracted to all that coldness, muscles and perfect face.

The elevator chimed as it reached the top floor and Jace wheeled the trolley out, down the short hallway to the penthouse. As expected, the door was slightly open—just enough to suggest invitation, just enough to unsettle.

He knocked once after taking steadying breaths. “Room service.”

Seeing that he got no response, Jace knocked softly again and announced his presence but he was met with the same silence.

“Come in,” said the client in a distant voice.

Jace hesitated, then pushed the door to open wider and stepped inside.

The client sat on the leather couch leisurely, arms thrown wide open like he had no problem in the world as he stared into the night life of the city, wine in one hand. Something about the carefree nature seemed familiar to Jace, knowing it wasn’t the first time he had seen him in either that position, or the half naked nature he was in—he had a robe that did nothing to hide his perfectly chiseled body and pale skin.

It took Jace almost everything to stop gawking as he pushed the trolley further in. “Your order, sir.”

The man said nothing as he gestured lightly that he served it. Jace did as asked, carefully setting the table.

The man stretched his arm out, asking for a refill of his wine and Jace responded without hesitation, hastening up with the urge to leave the penthouse before he got caught stealing glances at his client.

Jace handed the glass of wine back to the client, but something happened before he could control it. The client’s hand brushed his, sending electric jolts through his skin. It was a slight touch, but it stretched to forever until the client’s lingering touch became a firm but gentle grip, wrapping his hand around both the glass and Jace’s hand.

Jace’s eyes shot up to a pair of gunmetal eyes intently staring at him. Time slowed to a crawl as Jace found himself drowning in those stormy eyes. His skin felt hot to the touch and his throat went dry, words caught in his mouth.

He couldn’t say he knew what was happening, but the client’s grip told him one of them understood what was going on and that was all he needed.

This is wrong, Jace screamed mentally.

The client guided his hand to drop the glass of wine on the trolley, before straightening to his full height that towered above Jace. He wasn’t, by standard, a short person, but compared to his client, Jace’s 5’8” height seemed like a dwarf.

This shouldn’t be happening! Jace thought, but he made no effort to stop it.

His breath quickened, and his heart racing in his chest was the only sound that filled him as it slammed against his eardrums.

The client ran his fingers up and down Jace’s arm calmly, still staring at him with his grey eyes and for a moment, Jace thought they glinted silver with desire and… excitement?

A painful bulge grew slowly between his thighs, followed by a pooling drool as his cock oozed precum even without being fully aroused.

The client lowered himself to Jace’s level, his lips slightly brushing his earlobe while his hot breath hovered above a certain spot on his neck, slowly entrancing Jace.

“You know…” he began, his voice deep and gravelly with sin and raw desire. “It’s the first time you’ve looked this long.”

Then, he nibbled on his earlobe, blowing hot air into it as his firm grip held Jace in place.

Jace’s cock twitched uncomfortably in his pants, his head turning light as the client threatened to drown him in pleasure.

“This shouldn’t be happening,” Jace managed to whisper, but his body knew better. Because Jace had waited so long for this to happen.

He peppered ghost kisses along Jace’s jaw, until their lips crashed together. Jace’s hands shot up on instinct, gripping his shoulders for anchorage as the client swept him off his feet with a clean move, his legs wound around his waste.

The kiss was filled with need as the taste of mint and grapes exploded in Jace’s mouth. It wasn’t a gentle kiss.

The client touched him anywhere and everywhere, lips still entangled as their tongues battled for dominance, exploring their mouths. Jace’s fingers tugged gently at his client’s brown hair that seemed wet as though he’d just had a shower, a faint hint of shampoo in it.

Jace’s back arched with pleasure as his client found his way into his shirt, twisting and pinching his nipples gently, and the friction produced by his calloused fingers were just right, fueling the sensation as Jace’s eyes rolled back.

Prying fingers fastened Jace’s buttons and his shirt was the second to hit the floor, only preceded by the hotel’s official dark blue waist coat which was a part of their uniform.

The client seemed to need every piece of fabric separating them out of the way as if they weren’t close enough, even though they were practically pressed against each other, both clinging to each other.

“Gods, I’ve waited so long for this,” the client rasped against Jace’s lips before claiming his lower lips again.

The metallic taste of blood and mint told Jace that one of them had drawn blood, but he wasn’t even ready to uncover who did what. He was too lost in the pleasure, just as he’d like to be. Despite how wrong it was.

The client withdrew from the kiss with a swollen lip and ruffled hair, but a grin cracked on his face for the first time since Jace has been serving him.

It only lasted for a second, and the familiar scenery of the city told them they were still in the same living room. His gaze caught the digital wall clock briefly before his gaze blurred once again with pleasure.

1:15AM.

He’d been here since 12:33AM and they must’ve been at it for minutes.

The client attacked Jace’s throat next, sinking his teeth into the flesh and kissing and nibbling on the skin as raw desire blinded his eyes.

The client made to move as he pried his robe off, but the trolley and its contents—the dishes and cutlery—clattered to the floor, filling the room with its crashing sound.

The heat of the moment seemed to vanish instantly, and Jace landed with a thud as he disengaged from their clingy position.

The reality of what had happened came crashing down on him instantly, almost knocking the air out of his lungs. He’d broken the third rule of professionalism in Athena.

Never indulge in clients’ fantasies.

The words echoed through his mind, pounding in his head like a hammer. But he knew that wasn’t the problem.

It wasn’t.

He’d damaged the hotel’s property, and when that came out, an investigation would be carried out—where the plates and the trolley had been damaged, what he was doing when it happened—which would undoubtedly lead to the client exposing their misdeeds.

He would lose his job. That much was certain.

Jace couldn’t look up to meet his client’s gaze, knowing full well what had just transpired between them. He clumsily wore his crumpled shirt back and began to clean up the mess.

“Let me help you.” The client’s voice had the hint of sympathy which Jace translated to pity. He hated pity.

“Thank you sir,” he murmured weakly, refusing his offer. “A new order will be sent up here in a few minutes, I apologize for the inconvenience.”

His legs wobbled as he rose to his feet, and his client caught him just before he could lose his footing. He was grateful, but couldn’t bring himself to show it.

Shrugging his client’s touch away, he apologized for the mess once again and began to wheel the trolley away.

“It’s fine,” the client said just as Jace made to exit the penthouse, stopping him in his tracks. “The order—don’t trouble yourself with another.”

Jace nodded weakly, murmured a ‘thank you’ and entered the elevator with his head hanging low.

A faint smell of peppermint and lemon clung onto Jace’s skin as he shuffled around the hotel’s lobby, disposing the damaged glass and checking out quietly.

Reaching his house, Jace curled under the shower and scrubbed his body so hard as if he could still feel his client’s palm lingering on him, until he couldn’t feel the overwhelming smell of peppermint again.

He’d been reckless…too reckless. And that was about to cost him his job.

How fucked up.