Hunger And Desire

I turned.

He was standing ten feet away, half in shadow, half lit by the spinning green light. The black tuxedo looked even more dangerous now, sleeves rolled once, revealing strong forearms. His eyes locked on mine.

And this time he didn’t look away.

His gaze lingered on me a little longer than necessary, mine did the same, drawn to his fine, sweat-slicked, sculpted abs straining against the suffocating black tuxedo that barely contained them. 

I bit my lip slowly, seductively, letting my gaze travel with deliberate intent from his loins upward until it locked on his face. His eyes caught the neon green light dancing across the disco, turning his stare intense, almost feral.

He made the first move. His long legs ate up the distance between us in a few powerful strides. He curled his hands around my waist and jerked me toward him with taunting force, making me crash halfway into his chest. His cologne hit me hard: exotic and opulent. He lifted my face, gripping my jaw with his thumb and index finger, tilting it upward. 

Up close, he was even more majestic, all sharp lines and flawless perfection. His silk-black hair brushed my face, and so did his breath, warm and soft against my skin, matching the heat radiating from his body.

Then he crashed his lips onto mine, his tongue forcing its way deep into my mouth. It was electrifying. I pressed my hands to his chest, trying to steady my trembling legs as he tightened his grip on my waist, but before I could lose balance entirely, he lifted me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his hips on instinct. I hadn’t expected that—swift, smooth, as though I weighed nothing more than a handful of feathers.

He carried me shamelessly through the crowd, past bodies swaying to the pounding music blasting from the speakers. The bar was dim, lit only by colored lights reflected by the disco ball overhead.

He took me to a room marked by a golden seal on the door: VIP suite, reserved for high-profile guests. Inside, the space was spacious and hushed, illuminated only by large candles suspended from a tinted-glass chandelier. A king-sized bed waited at the far edge of the room.

He set me down carefully, yet his movements carried a frantic edge beneath controlled stillness. 

His body crouched over mine, my back pressed into the mattress, my face tilted up to meet his eyes. His kisses came in waves—first slow and hungry, then rough and addictive.

One hand roamed my body, impatient to tear through every layer of fabric: across my chest, down my waist, over my hips, along the curve of my ass. The touches were hurried, relentless. His other hand clamped firmly around my neck, pulling me into deep, breathless kisses. My own hands explored his chest and abs, frustrated by the fabric still in the way. I fumbled with the buttons, popping every single one until my palms finally met the hard, packed, sweaty muscles beneath.

He pulled back just long enough to shrug the shirt off completely. When the fabric fell away, revealing a body that looked unrealistically toned and golden in the candlelight, blood surged straight to my groin, turning my already stiff erection painfully hard.

A wicked, seductive smirk tugged at one corner of his lips—or maybe I imagined it. It was maddening, almost devilish, vanishing before I could fully grasp it. Did he know he looked like a Greek god carved in Athens, or was he only aware of how desperately aroused I was?

I reached to strip off my own shirt, but his hand caught my wrist. In one smooth motion, he pinned both my arms above my head, locking them in place with his strong right forearm. He arched over me, using his teeth to work my buttons free, starting at the collar and moving slowly downward until he reached the last one, just above my trousers. He paused there, his face hovering over my zipper, breath hot against the fabric. Then he undid the button, dragged the zipper down, and took me into his mouth.

A loud moan tore from my throat. My neck arched back, head sinking into the pillow. 

I was heaving as he bobbed his head, his tongue doing wicked, precise things that made my legs quiver uncontrollably. My breaths came in ragged gasps, starved for air. My pulse hammered everywhere, hypersensitive, charged. I was seconds from climax when he stopped.

What—? My cock pulsed, jerking uselessly in the open air. I bit my lip hard, desperate to finish, but my hands remained trapped above my head. I writhed like a pinned insect, the harder I struggled, the tighter his grip became. I winced, heart slamming in my ears, skin burning with the need to break free from the edge.

“Beg me,” he said, voice dangerously low and thirsty—more threat than request.

“Please,” I whispered.

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Sir, please,” I said louder, voice cracking. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on.

He released me only long enough to stand and quietly shed his pants. His cock was even better than I’d imagined—thick, perfect. He climbed back onto the bed, spread my thighs wide, dominating every inch of me like he owned it. I winced as he slid inside, slow at first.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded, even though I wanted to scream that I’d never felt better in my life.

He wasn’t as gentle as he tried to be. His hand returned to my neck as we traded messy kisses and hurried breaths, matching the relentless rhythm of his thrusts. His breathing grew heavier, more ragged—mine too. I felt him pulse inside me just as my own release hit, sharp and overwhelming.

I woke to a knock at the door. The cleaners were already making their rounds through the VIP suites—unusual, since I normally woke much earlier, collected my pay, and slipped out. How long had I slept? I glanced at the golden clock on the wall: the hands had crept past 9:00. Damn it. I groaned, scrambling up. How had this happened? I scanned the room for any trace of him—nothing. How could I have been so careless? I hadn’t even collected my pay. No way I’d just let someone fuck me for free.

I headed toward the bathroom to freshen up and leave, but something caught my eye on the table: a gleaming golden Rolex. The luster was magnificent. Curiosity pulled me closer. I picked it up, bit the bracelet lightly to test it, and my eyes widened. Solid gold—real, heavy, the entire thing. This had to cost a fortune.

Perhaps he’d forgotten it. Maybe he’d come back for it—and when he did, I could collect what I was owed. I slipped the watch into my pocket and hurried out.