Blind Date #4
‘We’ll get to fuck soon enough,’ Adam insists, under his breath, placing a hand on my back as we head over to the black cabs waiting in front of the hotel.
Adam opens a cab door for me, and I climb inside. Before joining me, he stops to tell the driver where we’re heading, but his voice is hushed and I don’t quite catch it.
The driver looks surprised.
‘Right! Nice choice!’ he says as Adam gets into the car and pulls the door shut.
The cab pulls away from the kerb.
‘Where are you taking me?’ I ask.
‘Heard of The Black Swan?’
I shake my head.
‘Good.’ He smiles smugly.
I reach into my clutch for my phone.
‘Don't even think about googling it,’ Adam says, intercepting my hand and lacing his fingers
through mine. ‘Let it be a surprise.’
I narrow my eyes at him.
‘For all I know, you could be taking me to some twisted sex dungeon.’
I can feel the driver’s eyes on us. I glance up at the rearview mirror and see him smiling, clearly enjoying this conversation.
‘Would that be so bad?’ Adam says, tracing his fingers over the back of my hand and smiling darkly in a way that sends blood right to my groin.
‘I don’t know…’ I mutter, dumbly.
It’s hard to think straight when you’re this aroused.
There’s something about this man’s commanding presence, his bossiness, and his no-bullshit, wry, and sexy way of taking control that really excites me.
And a sex dungeon? I know there are quite a few fetish clubs in London, but I’ve never been to one.
I’ve barely even thought about it. I’m not against them; they’ve just never particularly appealed to me.
What if we are going somewhere like that?
Adam is hot, exciting, and yes, I want to rip his clothes off, but I didn’t exactly picture that happening in a sex club.
‘Don’t worry, you're going to love it,’ Adam says, squeezing my hand.
He gazes out of the window as the cab passes through the London streets.
I can’t help admiring his angular, masculine jawline, dotted with stubble.
I want to feel that rough surface against my skin; I want to drag my tongue across it.
It’s an effort not to lunge towards him right now.
But Adam doesn’t seem the least bit interested in having some back-of-the-cab action.
I suppose he wants to keep me waiting to build up the anticipation, or else he just doesn’t feel like giving the cabby a peep show.
Having weaved through the city’s streets, the driver eventually pulls up outside what looks like a big red brick townhouse.
I cast a sceptical look over at Adam.
‘What is this? I thought you said we were going to a hotel…?’
‘It is a hotel. Don’t worry, it’s better inside,’ he insists.
‘Okay!’ I let out an awkward laugh as the driver draws to a halt at the entrance.
As I get out of the cab, I take a better look at my surroundings.
The street looks largely residential, and the ‘hotel’ doesn’t even have a sign, although the word ‘reception’ is printed in neat gold lettering above an unassuming black door.
I can’t help feeling a bit disappointed.
From the Ritz to this. I’m starting to sober up a bit, and not just from the champagne.
This whole experience is starting to lose its thrill.
Here I am, on a suburban street about to go into a strange hotel with a total stranger.
I’m half-tempted to hop back into the cab and ask the driver to take me home.
Back to Pumpkin and safety. But Adam reaches through the window and hands the driver a few twenties.
‘Come on,’ he says, placing a hand on the small of my back and guiding me towards the entrance. I look over my shoulder to the cab. I’m still half-tempted to sprint back, even though the driver is pulling away from the kerb.
Adam presses a buzzer by the side of the door as the cab blends into the London traffic.
Guess I’m doing this then.
A receptionist answers.
‘The Black Swan.’
‘Hi, it’s Adam Thorpe,’ he says. ‘I have a reservation.’
‘Hi Adam, come on in,’ the receptionist answers, as if she’d been expecting him, before buzzing us in.
‘You booked a room?’ I pry as Adam opens the door for me and ushers me inside.
‘Maybe,’ he comments wryly.
I roll my eyes.
‘Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?’
Adam laughs. ‘Perhaps, but even if you hadn’t come back with me, I’d still have needed somewhere to sleep tonight!’
I’m about to reply with something snarky, but as I step into the foyer, I’m suddenly distracted by the décor.
Huge stag heads are dotted across the walls; the floor is covered in shiny black and white tiles like a chessboard; sumptuous velvet drapes hang from the ceiling, half-covering fairground mirrors; and in the far corner, a giant spiral staircase bedecked in winding metallic ivy rises up towards the second floor.
The place is half gothic, half sixties psychedelia, and I’m utterly speechless.
‘I’ve booked the noir room,’ Adam tells the receptionist – a stunning blonde in a white PVC dress with her hair pinned up in fifties victory rolls.
‘Of course. Nice choice,’ she says with a playful smile before launching into a spiel about the hotel and its facilities.
Finally, she hands Adam a giant brass key on a heavy chain, like the key to a dungeon or an old castle.
‘This way,’ Adam says, gesturing to the spiral staircase.
‘This place is absolutely insane,’ I comment as we cross the foyer and descend the jade marble staircase.
‘I know,’ Adam comments, ‘but in a good way, right?’
‘Yeah, in a good way. In a very good way. I’ve never been anywhere like this,’ I comment and then cringe, worrying I sound provincial or boring.
‘Good.’ Adam smiles as he slips his hand over my lower back, sliding it gently over my ass as I climb the stairs. His touch is tantalizingly light, and it makes my whole body quiver.
I don’t think there’s much I could say to put him off right now. He’s as keen as I am.
‘Keep going,’ he says as we reach the first floor. ‘The room’s up there.’
He points to the second floor, and I start to wish I hadn’t worn stilettos as I continue to climb the staircase.
As we descend the final steps, all the anxiety and nervousness I had begun to feel outside slips away, displaced again by the tantalising feeling of excitement and adventure that Adam seems so adept at creating.
The hallway walls are lined with studded leather.
I guess cushioned walls are more comfortable for lovers to push each other up against, although Adam doesn’t seem to have any intention of that.
Not yet anyway. He strides purposefully across the hallway, opening a sleek black door to reveal a narrow staircase with grey stone walls like the inside of a cave.
He allows me up first.
‘What is this?’ I ask as I climb the stone steps. Maybe he wasn’t joking about the sex dungeon after all.
‘Just keep going,’ Adam says.
I keep heading up the staircase until I reach a darkened landing where a decadent candelabra flickers within an alcove on the wall.
I watch Adam as he climbs the final stairs, his broad frame cramped by the narrow walls. He looks gorgeous as he emerges, the golden glow of the candlelight dancing over his features.
‘You’re something else, you know,’ I comment, awestruck by this crazy place.
‘Normally girls say that after I’ve fucked them,’ he jokes as he inserts the huge old key into the lock and twists.
‘Close your eyes,’ he says, pausing before opening the door.
‘Actually…’ he hooks his finger under his tie and begins loosening it, pulling it free from around his neck.
He smiles wickedly.
‘Let me put this on you.’
I nod.
Adam stands behind me, and for a moment, our bodies don’t touch, but I can feel him breathing softly against my neck. I expect him to wrap the tie over my eyes, but then suddenly, he lowers his lips to my neck and ravenously, almost vampirically, begins kissing me hard, sucking tightly on my skin.
His hand swoops around my body, over my stomach and straight down to my groin. He clutches at it through my dress, grasping hungrily. The sensual pain of his lips on my neck combined with his sudden, hungry touch, his long, manly fingers pushing against my pussy, makes me gasp.
‘I was going to blindfold you but fuck it,’ he says, pushing the door open, grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me into the room.
Suddenly, I forget the fact that my pussy is hot and slick and all I want to do is tear Adam’s clothes off. The room is incredible.
The room is a study in black. Velvet-clad walls slope upwards to a mirrored ceiling, creating the illusion of endless space.
Beneath it sits an enormous bed, smothered in raven-black fur cushions and framed by an antique silver headboard worthy of a Gothic cathedral.
Candles flicker sexily from decadent candelabra.
This room was made for fucking, and right now, there is nothing more I want to do.
‘Wow!’ I gasp as Adam pulls me over to the bed. ‘I never thought I could get turned on by furnishings, but wow!’
‘How turned on are you?’ he asks as he pushes me onto the bed so that I fall among the soft fur cushions.
I kick off my heels.
‘Or should I find out for myself?’ he says as he tears off his suit jacket.
‘Mmm… That sounds like a good idea. You wouldn’t want to just take my word for it.’
‘Good point,’ he teases as he climbs over me, panther-like, his eyes dark with lust.
He lowers his lips to mine and kisses me hungrily, animalistically, as he parts my legs with his hand.
I’m more than happy to spread them. I feel my dress ruching up around my hips as Adam dips his hand between my thighs.
I’m dying to feel his fingertips slide inside me.
I want him to feel how warm and wet he’s made me.
I want him to rub my hot juices over my clit and drive his fingers deep within.
My whole pussy is tingling with need for his touch, but rather than giving me what I want, what I yearn for, he decides to torment me instead.