'The first night of my single-girl holiday turned into the hottest night of my life.'

This is part of Mamamia's Erotic Fiction Series, brought to you by Butter.

My heart pounds as I step out of the Uber and onto the pavement, the sleek, modern hotel towering above me. The sheer glass and steel stands tall and imposing against the vibrant city skyline and I sigh.

The trip was completely spontaneous — after a really tough few weeks at work I just needed a break, aaaand after a couple of wines on Thursday night, next thing I knew, I'd booked a flight for a weekend away.

Oops.

The doorman greets me with a warm smile, holding the door wide open, and I step through into the lobby, scanning the elegant space. Subtle lighting casts a glow over elegant furnishings, all lush deep green velvet couches and rich, intricate golden ornamentation. The luxury is oozing off every surface in the place.

I head for the reception desk, heels clipping on the marble floor, and my breath catches; a tall, dark-haired man, with intense eyes, leans against the front counter while he speaks to the person manning the desk. His sharp dark suit contrasts with his casual posture, and the angles of his face soften as he laughs at something she's said.

I take another step and he looks my way. Our eyes meet and something passes between us, a spark so visceral I feel it jolt my body, snatching the breath from my chest.

A rush of nerves tumbles through my stomach and I have to remind my feet to keep moving forward… I need to check in.

As I approach, he pushes off the desk and straightens, his movements confident, assured. His eyes never leave mine, and it would be uncomfortable if it wasn't so damn hot. Every step I take, there's a magnetic pull; a force drawing me closer to him. 

As I reach the counter, I can practically hear my heart thudding in my chest, and I'm painfully aware of every sensation around me — the soft hum of the air conditioning, the subtle scent of expensive cologne, the gentle swish of my satin skirt against my skin as I come to a stop.

His mouth tilts up in a slight smirk as I reach him, dark eyes glinting as he turns back to the clerk and finishes his conversation.

I tear my gaze away, barely hearing anything the staff checking me in has to say. Credit card… room keys… Location of the pool, the sauna…

"Mm, thank you," I mumble, taking the room key and turning on my heel.

He's gone. 

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Something like relief and disappointment flood me as I make my way to the elevator bank. It's fine. It's so fine. I came for a night of room service and single-girl self-care.  Not a night of hot sex. 

Really… REALLY hot sex.

I shake my head — snap out of it! Who do I think I am? Some hot guy gives me sex eyes in a hotel lobby and I'm swooning like a school girl?? Sex was never even on the table tonight!

Still, a ball of disappointment sits heavy in my stomach as I reach the lifts.

Soft piano music drifts through the space and other guests stroll through the lobby, heading out for dinner, drinks...

I hear footsteps behind me. One suited arm reaches forward to press the lift button, and spicy notes of sandalwood and cedar mingle with something darker, more primal.

The heady scent of his cologne washes over me, enveloping my senses.  

Oh god. Oh god.

My pulse quickens as he leans in closer, his breath warm against my neck.

*DING*

The elevator's arrival is far too loud and pulls me rudely back to reality. I step inside the small, wood-panelled space, catching his gaze in the mirrored back wall, watching as he strides in after me, and the doors slide closed.

We stand there, saying nothing. Heat starts to build in my veins, and his eyebrows lift — an unspoken question.

I hesitate, heart racing. There's an air of danger about him, a gleam in his dark eyes that both thrills and unnerves me. Common sense screams to look away, to step out of his reach.

But curiosity and desire are stronger, and I give him an almost imperceptible nod.

His fingers brush against my arm then, feather-light but electric. Goosebumps dot my skin. I shiver, but I'm far from cold. Strains of tinny elevator music leak through the speakers and he traces the line of my arm from my wrist, slowly, slowly up to my shoulder.

*DING*

His floor. He steps out without a backwards glance, and the void where he'd been standing is cold, harsh. This is the moment — do I step out into the hallway? Or continue up to my own room a level above?

I step out onto the plush carpeted hallway floor, take a step past him, and his warm hand rests on my lower back.  The heat settles there as he gently guides me down the darkened corridor, past wood-panelled doors until we come to a sudden top. Our eyes lock again, and without a word, without looking away, he unlocks the door.

A beep, a click, and my stomach flips as I step across the threshold.

He follows me inside, the door latching closed behind him. We stand there in silence, our gazes locked. The heat that burns between us steals my breath as he steps closer, his presence filling the space.

The low lighting casts dramatic shadows, and I feel the heat from his body seeping through the thin fabric of my blouse. His eyes gleam in the dimness, dark and unreadable.

His touch is electric as he reaches for my hand, his fingers lacing with mine. The warmth of his palm against my skin sends shivers down my spine. Slowly, he raises my hand to his lips, his breath warm on my skin as he places a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist.

Goosebumps rise on my arms as he trails kisses up my arm, his lips leaving a trail of fire where they touch. I close my eyes, my lips part and the slow groan that escapes me is cut off as his mouth captures mine.

His kiss is fierce and desire builds between my legs as his hands roam across every part of my body. His touch is commanding but gentle as he grips my hips and moves me away from the wall, his tongue still exploring mine as we move.

I feel myself being guided backwards until my legs hit the edge of the bed.

He pulls away from the kiss, leaving me breathless, eyes never leaving mine as he slowly kneels before me. The engulfing flames of the moment have cooled to simmering embers, but the heat remains as he slips off my shoes slowly, deliberately.

I feel exposed, vulnerable, and an ache reaches my centre as his fingers graze the skin on my ankles, my calves, my thighs.

He pauses at the waistband of my skirt, fingers toying with the delicate fabric. I hold my breath, as he eases it gently over my hips, the satin pooling at my feet. 

Cool air kisses my thighs and the room feels too small suddenly, the air thick and heavy. I can hear my own ragged breathing, see the rise and fall of his chest. Time seems to slow, stretch, become elastic.

His hands travel up again, pausing at my knees, his thumbs tracing small circles on the sensitive skin there. I bite my lip, fighting back a moan. The ache between my legs grows, a pulsing need that threatens to consume me.

He leans in, warm breath fanning across my thighs. I tense, anticipating his next move. But he doesn't touch me — not yet. He's toying with me, drawing out this exquisite torture.

Everything narrows to the point where his skin meets mine, and I'm painfully aware of the shift as his fingers travel up my thighs and begin to undo the buttons of my sheer blouse, one… by… one…

As my top falls open, he pauses, his eyes taking in the lacy bra that barely contains my breasts. His lingering gaze sends a new rush of heat between my thighs and I'm wet, so wet…. 

Still on his knees, he leans forward, his breath ghosting over my skin as he presses soft kisses along my stomach, inching down, down, down.

His lips are warm and gentle. His tongue traces the sensitive skin just above my slit, and I can't suppress a moan. His hands slide to my hips, holding me in place as he trails kisses across my skin. 

His breath on me is warm and inviting… 

… and then his mouth is on me, his tongue gently teasing my most sensitive spot. 

He moans his pleasure, tasting my wetness. I gasp, plunging my hands into his hair as he tastes me, his tongue flicking and circling my clit expertly. His stubble grazes my inner thighs, a delicious friction that heightens every sensation. I arch my back, pressing myself closer to his eager mouth.

The room spins as waves of pleasure course through me. His fingers dig into my hips, holding me in place as I writhe and moan. I'm teetering on the edge of ecstasy, every nerve ending singing with electricity.

My hips rock against his face, chasing the building tension. His stubble scrapes deliciously against my inner thighs and I tug lightly on his hair, urging him on. 

I let out a shuddering gasp as he deftly slides two fingers inside me, curling them just so, his tongue still swirling, mouth still sucking gently on my swollen clit.

My breath comes in ragged gasps as his fingers stroke and curl inside me, gently coaxing my orgasm from me. His tongue draws patterns across my clit, the ache building and building… I'm close, so close… 

My fingers dig into his broad shoulders as the dual sensations of his tongue on my clit and his fingers stroking me from within threaten to overwhelm me completely. I'm trembling, teetering on the precipice of release. I rock back and forth on his hand, his mouth, losing myself to the pleasure as he groans his approval.

He knows exactly what he's doing, his fingers and mouth working in perfect harmony to drive me wild. I feel my orgasm building, a coil of pleasure tightening within me, a spring ready to snap.

I cry out, my body arching as his mouth relentlessly drives me to orgasm.  He hums against my clit, pushing his fingers deeper inside me, and that's all it takes.

The tension inside me snaps. I shatter into a million pieces, crying out as waves of pleasure rush through me. My body convulses, shuddering, my back arching.

He doesn't relent, lapping at me as I ride out the intense orgasm. Head buried in my wetness, he draws out my climax until I'm gasping and oversensitive, boneless and sated.

I feel him smile against me, his breath tickling my sensitive skin, and I open my eyes. Only then does he raise his head, eyes gleaming in the moonlight, pure satisfaction in his gaze. His lips are wet, glistening. The sight sends another aftershock through me, my body pulsing in the soft glow of the night.

He kisses my inner thighs gently before moving back up my body, his lips brushing mine softly. I taste myself on his mouth, and it sends a shiver through me.

We stand like that for a moment, the waves of pleasure rolling back from a roar to a warm hum through my body.

A realisation hits me, and I pull back, a soft laugh escaping my lips.

"What's funny?" he asks, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a sly smile.

I reply:

"I never got your name…"

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Feature Image: Liv James/ImageFX.