Chapter Five
Luther
The urge to claim her, to sink into her warmth and lose myself, burns through me like a living thing. But I’m not done teasing her just yet. The power of drawing her closer to the edge, only to hold her there is too intoxicating to surrender so soon.
I lean in slowly, savoring the moment as I brush my lips against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. My tongue flicks out, tasting her, the faint saltiness of her skin mingling with the deeper, richer sweetness of her arousal. She’s perfect—irresistibly so—and I can't get enough. I drag my mouth higher, leaving a trail of damp kisses in my wake.
"Luth… Luther..." she moans. Her voice is breathless, needy, and filled with a longing that makes my chest tighten and my cock pulse painfully. Her fingers clutch the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as though to tether herself against the storm I’m stirring within her. “Please...”
A wicked smile tugs at my lips before I press them against her skin, knowing I have her exactly where I want her. The way her body arches toward me, the way her breath hitches with every teasing touch—I live for this. She’s intoxicating, a drug I can’t quit, and being here, with her laid bare before me feels like a moment that should be carved into eternity.
This... this is where I belong, I think as a thrill courses through me. Every soft gasp she exhales, every trembling plea fans the flames burning low in my gut. Her vulnerability, her trust—it’s a power I don’t take lightly, and one I plan to wield to give her everything she’s begging for and more.
“Patience, sweetheart,” I murmur, my voice low. The words are both a promise and a tease, my own pulse quickening as I hold myself back, dragging this moment out. I want her to feel the weight of my desire, the torment of it, as much as I feel hers.
My lips brush higher, so close to where I know she wants me, yet deliberately just shy of giving her what she craves. Her scent fills my senses, musky and sweet, uniquely hers, and utterly addictive. It’s like the first taste of something forbidden.
I finally reach my destination, my mouth hovering just a breath away from her drenched cunt. I inhale deeply, her arousal heady and thick in the air as my tongue flicks out, catching her swollen clit in one precise, teasing stroke.
"Oh... Aah!" she gasps, her words dissolving into a moan as I slip a finger inside her, curling it in a come-hither motion. Her pussy walls clench around my digit, hugging me like a tight, wet glove.
She’s so responsive, so desperate, I think, my own need clawing at my self-control. I love it. I love her like this—wild, uninhibited, completely undone beneath me.
My tongue swirls around her clit, alternating between soft, teasing flicks and firm, deliberate strokes. Her moans grow louder, more frantic, filling the room with the music of her pleasure. She’s trembling beneath me, her legs quivering on either side of my head as I devour her. I let my tongue slide lower, tracing her folds before plunging it into her, tasting the slickness of her arousal.
“Please!” she cries out again, her voice high and desperate, her fingers tangling in my hair to pull me closer.
I glance up at her, my eyes meeting hers as I pull back just enough to speak. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted, and her gaze is hazy with need. “You like that, Odette?” I ask, my voice a low, teasing drawl. “Tell me what you want, baby. Let me hear you beg for it.”
“I—” She swallows hard, her breath hitching as I pump my finger in and out. Her walls clench around me immediately, wet and tight, and I curl my finger just right, hitting the spot that makes her cry out. “I want you, Luther. I need you. Please...”
I add a second finger, watching her head fall back against the pillows as her back arches beautifully. “That’s my girl,” I murmur, my free hand stroking her thigh soothingly as I continue to work her over, my fingers curling and pumping in a rhythm designed to drive her mad.
Her moans are music to my ears, her body trembling as I push her closer to the edge. “You’re so beautiful like this, Odette,” I tell her, my voice rough with emotion. “Completely perfect. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“Luther... I can’t... I’m going to—”
Her words dissolve into a cry as her orgasm crashes over her, her body shuddering violently as her walls pulse around my fingers. I watch her unravel, captivated by the way her body reacts to me, by the sound of my name on her lips as she comes apart. I don’t stop, riding out her orgasm, savoring the way she writhes beneath me.
As her breathing slows, I press soft kisses to her thighs, giving her a moment to recover. But I’m far from finished. My own need is a living thing now, clawing at me, demanding release. I rise up, positioning myself between her legs, my cock heavy and aching as it brushes against her slick entrance.
Her eyes flutter open, meeting mine with a mixture of desire and exhaustion. “Are you ready for me, baby?” I ask, my voice low and strained.
She nods, her lips parting to whisper, “Yes. Please, Luther. I want you to fuck me.”
Those words undo me. But even through the haze of lust, I force myself to pause, taking in once more the scattered condoms she’d so thoughtfully—or mischievously—spread around.
A low chuckle escapes me as I pick one up, turning it over. "Really? A glow-in-the-dark one?" I murmur, shaking my head with a smirk. "What else do we have here—ribbed for my pleasure?" The teasing lilt in my voice earns me a playful shove, but my amusement only deepens as I sift through the options.
Finally, I settle on one, tearing the foil open with steady fingers, I roll the condom over my length, the sensation adding a delicious layer of anticipation.
Her gaze never wavers as I prepare, her lips curving into a faint, teasing smile. “Hurry, Luther,” she whispers, her voice breathy and full of want.
“Patience,” I murmur, though I’m not sure if it’s for her benefit or mine.
I grip her hips, positioning myself at her entrance, and slowly push inside, her tight pussy surrounding me inch by inch. A groan escapes me, low and primal, as I sink into her fully, burying myself in her warmth. She’s so hot, so tight, and it feels like heaven.
“Odette,” I whisper, my voice hoarse as I struggle to hold back. “You feel... incredible. So perfect.”
Her hands slide up my arms, her nails digging into my shoulders as she clings to me. “Luther... oh, God...” she moans, her voice trembling with pleasure.
I begin to move, slow and deliberate, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through me. Her body meets mine perfectly, her hips rising to meet each of my strokes. My name falls from her lips like a prayer and I know I’m close, so close I can taste it.
But I don’t want this moment to end. Not yet. I want to memorize every sound, every sensation, every inch of her beneath me. I want to lose myself in her completely, to take her over the edge one more time before I give in to my own release.
I still. I’m buried inside her, every inch of me consumed by her tight heat, and the temptation to give in, to let go, is nearly overwhelming. But I won’t—not yet. I exhale a shaky breath, pulling back to look at her, needing to see her. Odette’s face is flushed, her lips parted and swollen, her dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks. She’s breathtaking, her body trembling beneath me, and the sheer intensity of the moment sends a shiver down my spine.
“Odette,” I murmur, cupping her cheek. My thumb brushes against her heated skin as her eyes open, hazy and filled with want. “Do you feel that? How perfectly we fit together?”
Her legs wrap around my waist, urging me to move, and I oblige, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in with sheer force. The sensation is electric, her body molding to mine as I set a deliberate, teasing rhythm. I watch her reactions closely, savoring every cry, every hitch of her breath, every time her nails dig into my back.
“You’re so good to me,” I murmur, my voice rough with need. “So perfect. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
I grip her hips tightly, angling myself to hit the spot that makes her cry out. She’s trembling beneath me, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps, and I know she’s close again.
Her nails dig into my shoulders as her entire body tenses, and she throws her head back with a cry that echoes through the room. I can feel her walls pulsing around me, and the sight of her falling apart beneath me nearly pushes me over the edge.
But I’m not done yet.
I slow my movements, letting her ride out her release. When she finally begins to relax, her body soft and pliant beneath me, I pull back just enough to look into her eyes.
“Again,” I whisper, a promise and a challenge in my voice.
Her lips part in surprise, but the spark of desire that lights in her eyes is unmistakable. She nods, her legs tightening around me as I begin to move again, my thrusts deeper, harder, more demanding. She meets me stroke for stroke, her body arching into mine, and I know I’m close, so close I can feel the tension coiling in my core.
“Odette,” I groan, my voice rough and strained. “I can’t... I’m going to—”
I thrust into her one last time, burying myself to the hilt as I teeter on the edge, ready to lose myself completely in her.
Odette
Luther’s breathing is ragged, his body tenses above me as he drives into me with a force and desperation that leaves me on the brink of unraveling all over again. His jaw is clenched, his muscles taut, every inch of him consumed by his impending release. I watch him with a mixture of fascination and hunger, my body trembling beneath his as he brings me closer and closer to the edge.
“Odette,” he groans.
I let my hands roam over his sweat-slicked back, my nails dragging lightly across his skin. His reactions have been exquisite all night, and this moment is no different. He shudders under my touch.
He leans down, his forehead resting against mine as he thrusts into me one last time, deeper than before. His body stiffens, and he closes his eyes, surrendering completely to the sensation as his release overtakes him.
That’s when I strike.
In a single fluid motion, I surge up and sink my teeth into the tender curve of his neck. His pulse is frantic against my lips, and the first taste of his blood floods my senses with warmth and euphoria. It’s rich, potent, and utterly addictive. I drink deeply, my body shuddering with the rush of it, the raw power and vitality flowing into me with every pull.
Luther lets out a soft, strangled gasp, his body jerking once before going slack above me. The combination of his orgasm and the haze I’ve induced is too much for him to handle, and he surrenders completely, his head lolling to the side as his consciousness slips away.
I take one more sip, savoring the taste of him, before carefully retracting my teeth and licking the wound to seal it. The two puncture marks fade almost instantly, leaving nothing behind but smooth, unblemished skin. I let out a contented sigh, my fingers brushing over his jaw as I admire my handiwork.
“Sweet dreams, Luther,” I murmur, my voice soft and teasing. “You’ve earned them.”
Carefully, I guide him onto his back, his body limp and pliant beneath my touch. He’s out cold, his chest rising and falling in steady, even breaths, a peaceful expression on his face. If only he knew what I really was, what I’d just done. But he won’t remember this part—the pleasure will mask everything. By the time he wakes, he’ll think he just passed out from exhaustion. A faint smile tugs at my lips.
“This is the perfect arrangement,” I whisper to myself, slipping from the bed and stretching languidly. “No strings, no drama. Just business.”
I make my way to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and step under the hot spray. The water cascades over me, washing away the remnants of our time together and leaving me refreshed and renewed. My fingers trail over my neck where his lips had been not long ago, a fleeting memory of the passion we’d shared. It had been... exhilarating. But it was also just another job.
As the water beats against my skin, I mentally run through my checklist. Luther was one of my better clients—attentive, generous, and surprisingly good in bed. It almost made me feel guilty. Almost.
Once I’m clean and dressed, I towel-dry my hair and step back into the bedroom. Luther is still out cold, sprawled across the bed like a man thoroughly satisfied. I allow myself a brief moment of admiration—his strong jawline, the way his cock lays across his thigh, the slight curve of his lips. He looks so peaceful, so content.
But there’s no time for sentimentality. I grab my phone from the nightstand and open the app that manages all my transactions. A few taps and swipes, and the appointment is marked complete, and the payment processed. The app will automatically send Luther a receipt along with a prompt to leave a review and, if he feels inclined, a tip.
“Pretty fucking efficient,” I mutter, slipping the phone back into my pocket. “Next level, really.”
I take one last look around the room, making sure I haven’t left anything behind. My eyes linger on Luther for a moment longer than necessary, a strange pang of something—regret? longing?—twisting in my chest. I shake it off, reminding myself that this is just business. It always has been.
Quietly, I gather my things and head for the door. The night air is cool against my skin as I step out the front doors of the hotel, the city lights glittering in the distance. Another successful job, another satisfied client. It’s what I do, what I’m good at.
But as I walk away, a small voice in the back of my mind wonders if it could ever be different. If someone like Luther could ever be more than just another job.