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Oh, I'm going up to room 636 to meet a stranger.
When I get into the elevator, I see my reflection in the doors once they've closed. I certainly don't look halfway as confident as I thought, or was hoping I did. I use the ride up to the sixth floor to sweep my hair over my shoulder once more, get my lip gloss out of my clutch and reapply it. Then the doors are opening, and for a moment, I just stand there, looking into the hallway, knowing that once I step out of this elevator, I'll be that much closer to Law.
Like some sort of deja vu, it's the doors beginning to close that snaps me out of my thoughts and gets my feet moving. I chuckle, part nerves and partly at the craziness of all this, as I begin walking down the hallway. It's a chuckle I desperately need.
I pass the rooms, 630, 632, 634, and then reach the end of the hallway, and see 636 directly in front of me. I arch a brow at it. This room must be the biggest to be where it is at the end.
I take a second as I stand before the door. I could swear I can feel him on the other side of it. Waiting for me, anxious for me, rushing me without a single word or look.
This is it. No turning back. Now or never, to fulfill our arrangement and give him myself so he can give me what I need. To finally see if the reality of being with him matches the fantasies I've been conjuring in my mind all last night and today. To see just what Lawson has in store for me.
And I'm ready, for all of it.
I raise my hand and knock my knuckles against the door, counting the seconds until he opens.
It takes seven. Seven seconds and then he's standing before me, making my nerves return in an instant; tension, excitement, and desire warring with each other. It's the desire that has me looking him over, his black pants, bare feet, and light grey button-down shirt open, letting me see the muscles beneath it. His hair is swept to the side, as if he's been running his fingers through it. And his eyes, those eyes, go up and down my body, again and again, a hunger in them that makes me shiver.
"You look beautiful," he says, his deep voice crashing over me.
"Thank you. You look very handsome yourself."
"Handsome enough for you to come inside the room?" He smirks, and it relieves so much of the tension that was sitting like a rock in my stomach.
"Yes." I chuckle, beginning to walk into the room.
Just smelling his cologne as I pass him, being so close to him again, feeling his eyes on me, it's all enough to have my heart picking up to a thunderous beat. Which only increases as I look around the room.
It's different, grander, than the one I looked at on the website. The balcony larger, an entire living room area before you reach the huge bed. I can’t help but swallow at the sight of the bed. The one in the pictures was a wooden headboard. This one has poles that reach the ceiling, wrapped in black leather. It somehow seems this bed was quite purposely chosen. I almost expect to see some handcuffs hanging from them. Honestly, I'd wondered if I would walk in and see whips, rope, shit even some knives on the comforter, but there's nothing. Just an extremely fluffy looking black comforter, asking me if I'll be naked on it tonight.
I turn around at hearing the door click shut behind me. Law stands there, one hand in his pants pocket, the other near his face, his thumb sweeping back and forth along his bottom lip as his eyes stare at me. It feels like he's deciding what to do with me. I'd like to know as well.
Then he's walking toward me, and I watch his every step, every movement. His feet silently eat up the distance between us, his hand coming out of his pocket and going to his hair so he can run his fingers through it like I'd thought he had. Then I can't see him at all because he's walking around me, until he's at my back, so close there can't be more than a few inches between us. I don't look over my shoulder at him, I stand utterly still, barely even breathing. Then I feel his finger trailing along my bare shoulder and a small gasp escapes me.
"Don't be afraid," he says, his voice low.
"How can I not be? When I have no idea what you want of me."
"You know what I want."
"I do, but I don't."
"Let me make it very clear, then."
He steps closer, his hard cock flexing against my ass. That finger that was on my shoulder becoming a hand pressing to the front of my throat, pushing me back into him even more. His mouth comes to my ear, his beard scratching against my neck.
"First, I want to see you wearing nothing but these heels," he whispers.
His other hand goes to the zipper at my back, beginning to drag it down, and God, the sound of a zipper has never sounded so erotic as it does in the silence of this room. Then he's bringing the sleeve down my shoulder, the dress past my hips, down my legs until it's pooling on the floor around my feet. I go to step out of it but his fingers trailing up my spine stop me. He reaches my bra and undoes it. Since it's strapless, it falls to the ground, on top of my dress.
His hands ghost, there's really no other word for the way his fingers are barely a whisper as they travel down my sides, until they reach my panties. My breath hitches as he traces along the top of them a few times before he lowers them, down and down, until he's crouching behind me so I can step out of them.
He stands, getting close enough again that I feel his cock against my hip this time as he walks around me to face me.
"I want to feel the evidence of how much you want me," he says while putting his hand under my chin. He tilts it up, so I have no choice but to look into his eyes when leans in closer and asks, "Do you want me, Sophie?"
I swallow, the intensity in his eyes making it hard to think straight. But that's an easy question. My want for him is rushing through me more with each look, each touch, each whisper into my ear.
"I do.”
