The Hotel Room
I push a stray strand of hair behind my ear watching the dial tick away as we pass each floor.
“Where are we heading?”
I look at the mirror to the man in the corner. He had tied his dirty blonde hair up since I met him in the club on 8th street. No longer did it hang beside his face in flat waves.
Weirdly it makes the five-o-clock shadow more prominent, at no point has he removed his sunglasses, and to be fair neither have I.
“To my room, of course.”
Confident, but not cocky. That was the brief I was given, a complete description of who I am suppose to be this evening down to the style (if any) of pubic hair.
The doors slide open with a whoosh revealing the barren hallway. I had rented out the floor; goodness knows how loud it will all get.
I take his hand, forcing him out of the elevator heading to the end of the hall.
“This must’ve set you back?”
I spin around on my heels, walking backwards.
“This place?” I reply.
I spin marvelling at the hidden lighting fixtures across the ceiling that gave the hallway a calm ambience.
My hand strokes the cushioned wall tracing over the door number by each mahogany door. The Hampshire Hotel is pricey that only so few could afford, and I am one of those few.
“Not in the slightest,” I remark.
He smirks at me, keeping his head low so I couldn’t see his smile.
We stop at the end of the hallway, a large pane of glass separating us from the outside world. I press my hands on the window looking across the city decorated with speckles of shades of pale yellow against the darkness of the night sky.
He wraps his hand around my waist while another runs down my exposed back. I shiver at his cold touch, but my insides warm as he pushes himself against me— the tension in his pants evident against my back.
“It’s Delilah,” I correct, what a dick, he’s testing to see if I remembered who I’m playing today.
He pulls the key card out from my back pocket and places it in the slot above the handle. The light flashes green, and he pulls me in behind. I give one last look to the scene before skipping in behind him.
I drop my bag on the floor, kicking off my heels while he stands watching me briefly.
He turns to the window opening the mini-fridge and taking out a small bottle of whiskey and a frosted whisky tumbler glass.
I remove my clothes, watching as he pours the brown liquid into the glass just under halfway.
He brings it to his lips but stops as he catches my reflection in the window. He places the glass down. The clunk seems to echo in the silent room.
I smirk— I work hard to get this figure, even more so to maintain it, especially against those Meok-Bang people. The creeps that would pay hundreds to watch me binge eat some burgers.
“Come join me, Dominic. I need a shower.”
He removes his shades, placing them in his leather jacket pocket before removing the jacket and laying it on the chair.
I turn towards the bathroom, swaying my hips seductively.
The lights brighten as I enter, I place my hands by the sink as I check my makeup.
"In no way should your makeup smudge. He wants a natural, refined version of you,” Magenta said as I rolled my eyes using the highlighter to circle the critical bits of information the client had provided.
I had done as she said, gloss on my lips, light foundation - a chocolate brown with an equally chocolaty fragrance. He was okay with my hazel eyes— didn’t want me to wear coloured contacts but had requested that I wear beach-waved hair.
Not surprised by that. Most clients favoured a more European hairstyle, so I was in an abundance of wigs ranging from straight and blonde to dark brown and wavy.
Enough of this, Delilah. You look sexy as always. I do a quick breath and teeth check before turning on the shower.
I stand under the water, the rain patter against my skin before rolling off my breasts and falling onto the grey tiled floor.
“The water looks good running off you.”
I grab the soap, ignoring Dominic, I lather the soap between my hands and run one hand up my arm.
“Don’t ignore me, Delilah.” The way my name rolls off his tongue made my toes curl. The sound of “L” no doubt was flicked off the edge of the tongue. Long pink tongue rolled around his lips, running across his teeth. Running across my lips, down my chest to my-
I spin around soapy hands, crashing into Dominic’s chest.
“I said.” He stares me down. His silver eyes narrowed close to slits. “Don’t. Ignore. Me.” Had we not been under the shower, a bead of sweat would’ve slid down my face, but my heart was still beating recklessly in my chest.
Get it together!
“You brought whiskey into the shower.” My head motions to the glass that I’m sure had only left his hand once since he poured it.
Dominic smiles a wide one this time, causing his dimples to expose themselves on each side. He brings the glass to his lips taking a loud, obnoxious gulp, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob.
“Nothing has given me a reason to set it down.” His eyes pour over me, taking in each delicate curve of my body, watching the droplets roll off me before bringing his eyes back to mine. “Well, only one.”
I roll my eyes but I am smiling, my hands run circles across his bare chest, noticing that he is as naked as I am.
My long red nails dig slightly into his skin, marking a red circle through the soap suds.
Dominic growls, and I catch the rise of his once flaccid penis, I trace my nail across the circle again making him growl louder.
Dominic throws the glass, smashing the mirror behind us.
“That’s going to cost me,” I quip at him. He spins me around sandwiching me between him and the glass wall of the shower.
He smacks my ass with little warning causing me to shriek and rise on my toes.
“This little mark you’ve made is going to cost you.” He holds my waist fiercely raising me to the edge of my toes where my ass was brushing against his erection.
I look out of the door towards the city scale outside the window, watching the darting red and blues as Dominic pushes himself into me with his entire being.
There is no crescendo of rhythm just pure unadulterated animalistic pounding, had my hands not been pressed flat against the glass pushing myself against his rhythm I would’ve cracked my head against it.
Dominic snakes his hand around my neck, squeezing tight. Me going against his rhythm only drives him further. I hold onto his hand, my vision beginning to blur, and my hand slides down my body, heading for that sweet spot.
He grabs my not so discreet hand squeezing it where I wince, and slams it palm open onto the glass.
“This isn’t about you,” he groans in my ear between each breathy thrust.
My watery eyes train themselves on the city outside— imagining the cold autumnal breeze that was drifting around weaving in and out of layers of clothing as people walk.
Stay awake, Delilah! As his hold tightens around my neck, my eyes started to droop, and Dominic’s thrust became erratic.
A sharp pain whizzes around my body snapping my eyes open. Blonde hair brushes against my face as Dominic forces his teeth deeper. His thrusts not letting up.
My hand slides off the glass. The only thing holding me up was Dominic’s hand around my throat. My eyes drift shut as Dominic explodes inside me blood dripping as he drinks from my neck.
This was not how I planned my evening.
A.N. Welcome to the first chapter of The Year Package, straight to shower sex to introduce two of our main characters: Delilah and Dominic.
What did you think? What will happen to Delilah after Dominic bit her? Most importantly thanks for reading.