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The Two Strangers

Rachel’s POV

His lips were savory. They attacked mine with a burning need. I didn’t know what activated in me, but I found myself returning his kisses, replicating the fervency with which he kissed me.

The chants around us died. I could feel the surprise and shock around. As what should have been a fleeting kiss had grown into something else, something unexpected. That reeled back my senses. I pushed the man away and turned from the hall, running down the stairs as if I were being chased.

“Wait, lady.” I heard a voice grate roughly behind me, but I kept running, my senses in shambles.

I reached the concert, and strangely, I realized I was completely free from the thought of Cole, and something else had replaced them—the thoughts of the man I had just kissed. But I tried as much as I could to push him out of my mind.

The music wasn’t really my thing, nor was the large crowd of people, but the soft lighting calmed me, and so were the drinks. I started with some champagne, and then I started receiving cups of strange drinks from admirers, many of them. I didn’t know what the drinks were, but the mystery made it all the more fun; I drank every cup. Before I knew what was happening, my eyes were swirling, and I felt lightheaded. I managed to find my way back to the hotel lobby. I fumbled for my room’s key inside my purse as I staggered for the stairs.

I bumped into someone, and my key fell. I stared up, and though my vision was fuzzy, I still managed to recognize the man from earlier. His amber eyes bore into me.

“You are the lady from before. The lady who ran after kissing me,” he said.

“Yes. It is me,” I replied, indifferent. I pushed him away and bent to pick up my key. I found two keys on the floor. His and mine. I had a vague idea of picking one, then I hurried immediately for my room.

I had thought the man would follow me, drag me into his arms, and kiss me like before. He didn’t; he just watched me go. I felt a little hurt. Somehow, I seem to want him to be the man I would gift my virginity tonight. A shame; it seems I would live another day a virgin. With my thought a bit murky, I failed to recollect my room’s number and traced my way using the room number on the key.

I used the key on the door and stepped into a luxurious ambience.

A man walked out of the toilet—a man in his late thirties. A towel was wrapped around his waist. My eyes found the hard, well-sculpted chest, the showy squares that delineated the abs, a large red inked tattoo crawling there from his back. Then they moved to his face, a devilishly handsome face. His ice blue eyes quizzed me critically.

“Who are you? Are you the call girl I ordered?” he asked, his voice tough. He tried to move towards me, and his towel came loose. It dropped to his feet.

A thick cock stuck out from between his legs, hardening and growing bigger as I stared at it. I watched it grow to a mighty length, throbbing and pointing accusingly at me.

“Fuck,” the man moaned. He grabbed me by the waist, riding me to the nearest wall. His hand guided my unsteady legs. Then he pressed his lips on mine with urgency. It might have been the alcohol, but strangely, I wanted every bit of his kisses, as I wanted his monster length inside mine. My sex tingled in excitement at the thought.

His kisses were ferocious and without passion, and they drew moans and moans from me. His fingers found their way into my panties, and I felt them slipping into the moistness of my sex. They went in and out in a fast rhythm. He started with two fingers, then made it three, pushing them in and out of me with a hungry pace.

His fingers slipped out of me after a while, leaving me with harsh cries of pleasure, and he began to help me out of my clothes. He had some difficulty with my gown and bra. Successful after, he tossed them to the floor.

Then he carried me off the wall. He laid me on the bed, while his eyes feasted lustfully on every inch of me.

“Now, you are ready for me,” he growled, his voice roughened with lust. Then, without warning, I felt him drive his manhood inside me. Intense pain engulfed every inch of me. I screamed with agony into the air as his large manhood prodded further into my tight sex, forcibly breaking down the thin walls of my hymen. My fingers dug hard into the bedclothes as my scream filled the room.

“You are tight,” he growled, his voice roughened with lust. Then suddenly, his eyes jumped in realization. “You are a virgin. Fuck. You aren’t a call girl,” he said. He attempted to pull out of me but stopped, the tip of his manhood tickling my clit. He made a loud guttural moan. “Fuck. I can’t,” and he eased himself back inside me.

His manhood dug deep into me, and I grabbed tighter onto the bedclothes for my dear life, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Spasms of pain mixed with pleasure rippled through me. I vibrated on his magnificent manhood. Strangely, I enjoyed every bit of it.

“Breathe slowly,” he commanded. “You can take me. Just breathe slowly.”

I did as he instructed. I inhaled and exhaled slowly. Then gently, he began to go in and out of me, his thrust careful and calculated. Gradually, the pain subsided, leaving immense raw, unrefined delight, drawing moans upon moans from me, my throat never tiring to produce them.

Gradually, his tempo increased and his thrust bolder. He began to drive into me with the urgency of passion, his thrust fast and hungry. He leaned low briefly to have his lips plunder my mouth, filling my mouth with the taste of champagne laced on his. I turned my head and sank my teeth into the bedsheet as waves after waves of intense pleasure awash me, his manhood pushing me further and further to the reach of my orgasm. I reached it, my moans filling the room, and I vibrated ceaselessly on the bed. I felt a contraction around my sex, and my juices bathed his manhood. Yet, his thrust continued, driving in an out of me, working for his own release, whilst still making me moan hard.

I woke up with a dull ache somewhere in my head, sunlight pouring into the room. I turned, and I was in a large bed with a man. His smooth tanned back to me, a feral wolf with large fangs inked onto his back. He noticed I had woken and turned to me.

He was older, yet dangerously handsome; I found myself staring.

“You are awake,” he smiled.

“Who are you?” I yelled, shocked. “And what are you doing in my room?”

His lips stretched in an amused smile. “I asked you that same question yesterday, but you couldn’t answer.”

I stared down at myself, realizing just then that I was naked. Overwhelmed with shock, I started from the bed, pulling the whole bedsheet with me, wrapping it all over me. I found my clothes on the floor and struggled into them, while his eyes watched me keenly, deepening with lust. His lips retained his amused smile.

“What happened between us?” I asked, although I had a feeling I already knew the answer to that.

“Sex,” he said simply. A self pleased grin on his lips. It irritated me beyond words, just as his brutal honesty.

The door opened, and the man from yesterday strode into the room. The man I had kissed.

“Let’s go, Logan—” his words froze, and confusion settled in his eyes as they found me in the room.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, conflicted.

“She helped herself into my room, letting herself in with my key, which should have been with you.” The man on the bed spoke.

The man I had kissed brought out a key from his pocket; he handed it to me.

“You picked up his key, which was with me instead of yours when we bumped into each other.” He said, grudge in his voice.

I stared at the key. Room 401. The key was indeed mine. Still refusing to believe everything that was happening was true, I ran fast to the door and checked the nameplate. Truly, it wasn’t my room; it was room 410.

Since I was outside the door, the man I had kissed tried to shut the door on me, but the other man had moved from the bed to the door. He stopped the door.

“It was truly a great experience with you,” he grinned, then he handed me a business card. “You can put a call through when you…”

The first man didn’t let him finish; he slammed the door shut on me.

I couldn’t describe the emotions waging inside me, but I knew I felt used, dumped, and stupid. I stared at the card; it said Logan and Draco Biancardi. Biancardi, I repeated in my head; that was Cole’s surname also. I flung the card and walked back almost dejectedly for my room. Anyway it happened; I wasn’t a virgin anymore, just like I had wanted it to be.

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