Portia Da Costa - purveyor of erotic romance and erotica to the discerning woman since 1994

HOTEL OF LOVE - Dorothy Starr

Please be aware that this excerpt contains sensual content that is only suitable for adult readers who are comfortable with frank language and descriptions of erotic scenarios

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Hotel of Love - click for larger versionBlurb

The luxury hotel of Bouvier Manor nestles near a spring whose mineral water is reputed to have potent aphrodisiac qualities. Whether its powers are real or not, Dani Stratton, the hotel's feisty receptionist, finds concentrating on work rather tricky, particularly when Mitch, the muscularly attractive new porter, is around to provoke her.

Even as a mysterious consortium threatens to take over the Manor, staff and guests alike seem quite unable to control their insatiable passions...

Published by Piatkus Entice

Excerpt

'I dare you,' he'd said, and she'd told him not to be silly.

'I dare you,' he'd said, and she'd told him to go away, because she wasn't thirsty.

'I dare you,' he'd said, she'd told him not to keep going on, because it was all bullshit anyway.

The problem was Daniella Stratton hadn't been as sure of herself as she'd sounded, and those naughty, bespectacled brown eyes had been - and still were - irresistible. Not sure what she was letting herself in for, she'd taken the glass of water he'd handed her, and drunk down its contents - then rallied with more of her bravado.

'And anyway, Mister clever Mitchell, the famous "magic potion" doesn't work on me. So don't hold your breath for a reaction!'

Four hours later, alone in the staff bathroom of the Bouvier Manor Hotel, Dani Stratton was furious. Still angry with Mitch for goading her; but even crosser with herself, for letting her nemesis get the better of her. Again.

Why the hell can't I ever say 'no' to a dare? she wondered with a sigh. And why on earth couldn't she cope with a smooth-talking, brown-eyed charmer whose smile was equally hard to say 'no' to? Stroppy, ignorant, or even flirtatious guests were a piece of cake to her - she seemed to have an inborn knack for diplomacy - but that bastard Joseph Mitchell? He seemed to get to her again and again.

Stepping naked and dripping from the tiny shower, Dani felt hotter and more bothered than she had when she'd first stepped in the damn thing. She never should have drunk that glass of water, not only because it was letting Mitch score a point, but because there was always the slimmest chance that the stories about the mineral spring were true. It seemed a silly notion, but Bouvier Manor Spring Water - the so-called 'magic potion' - was supposed to be an aphrodisiac. Dani didn't believe in anything that didn't have a rational, scientific explanation, but even so, she could feel something at work in her bloodstream. Her body was warm and tingling, and her breasts and her sex felt exquisitely sensitive - and all thanks to wretched Joseph Mitchell and his mind-bending brandy-brown eyes. Something was making her feel horny, and it was either the water or him!

Ah, but do you even have to drink the stuff? Dani pondered, looking up at the dripping shower head with suspicion. What if the effects were absorbed through the skin as well? What if there was some truth in the tales, and she'd been taking in the chemical - or whatever it was - every time she showered? She was beginning to lose all faith in her self-control ... Which was exactly what that devil Mitch wanted!

The man was a swine! A beast! A gorgeous, macho horror! She'd seen him watching and waiting and grinning that flawless white grin of his, and it infuriated her. His pure, unfiltered lechery made her want to smack him in the mouth, and he just laughed when she caught him ogling her legs or her full, rounded bosom. What made it much worse was the fact that her woefully un-feminist half found his scrutiny flattering, and that she couldn't stop looking at him!

Not that there wasn't plenty to look at. Joseph Mitchell had started at the Bouvier Manor two weeks ago - in the junior reception job that Dani had just moved up from - and immediately set female hearts beating. Dani thought it was something to do with him having a mature man's body combined with the face of a pretty young boy. He was the basic 'tall, dark and handsome' hunk, but his eyes were wicked and devilish, and he had a slow, cynical smile that kept him from being a cliche. Male bimbos didn't usually wear glasses either.

'I've got to hand it to you, Mitch,' she murmured thoughtfully, wrapping a thin, over-washed towel around her sensitised body and attempting to rub herself dry, 'If you weren't such an MCP, I'd make a pass at you!'

The most annoying thing about Mitch - and in some ways also the most appealing - was his total and unflappable calm. He was a teaser, and perfectly and infuriatingly insolent sometimes, but at heart she sensed he was dependable. He drove her crazy, but he was also a constant. A friend in times that weren't easy. The atmosphere at the Bouvier Manor was extremely peculiar these days because everybody was on tenter­hooks. The place had been sold, and there was talk of management shake-ups and a draconian new regime. Nothing radical had actually happened yet, but it was only a matter of weeks before a faceless consortium took them over.

Mitch, however, didn't seem worried at all, and his outrageous good humour was a distraction. As was his raw, sexy cheek!

Sitting on the edge of the bath and pulling a comb through her long red hair, Dani could easily picture his smile. That filthy, roguish, woman- stripping smirk that made her poor body moisten and shiver. Especially when she merged that expression with the rest of him. With the muscles, the broad chest, and those lean, suggestive hips. He'd be an ideal catch if he wasn't so insulting, she thought, working her way patiently through a tangled wet curl. Even so, she still felt inclined to encourage him. His package alone was worth the hassle!

'Now who's being a chauvinist?' she muttered, leaping up again, her body wildly restless and hot. Her knotted towel slid subversively to the floor, and on the point of reaching down for it, she hesitated. The night was warm and her skin felt electric and glowing. She didn't want to be covered. She wanted to be bare and free and voluptuous, every part of her available and open. The image of Mitch appeared in her mind again, and she kicked the towel across the room in frustration.

They'd been playing subtext sex-games with each other since Day One, she realised. Flirting, eye contact, talking ever so slightly dirty all the time. It'd soon turned into an unspoken trial of endurance. He'd accidentally brush up against her; then she'd pay him back by subtly invading his space. And so on and so on and so on.

As a nervous sweat broke out in her armpits, she imagined invading him now. Prising open the buttons of his shirt, wiggling her fingers inside, then stroking the warm plane of his chest. She'd seen him in the hotel gym only yesterday, and the body beneath the clothes was every bit as exciting as she'd hoped for. Solid shoulders and pectorals; flat stomach; thighs . . . Oh boy, those thighs! They were like long living slabs of tanned power; and she could almost feel them pressed against her now, flexing in a slow, steady rhythm as he thrust into her again and again.

'Dani! Cool it for God's sake!' she cried, knowing it was already hopeless. She tried to eject Mitch from her thoughts, then almost as suddenly let him in again. With a sharp sigh of recognition, she saw him as she'd seen him yesterday, in the gym. Half-naked, snarling with effort, and perspiring. A pair of thin, marl shorts scarcely covered his modesty, and the rest of him was shining and bare. Except - and this puzzled her - that he still had on his glasses. Those elegant, metal-framed specs of his, that made his bright eyes seem brighter than ever.

The thought of Mitch's eye-wear made Dani smile in her reverie. She sat down again on the bath's edge, and peered into the mirror on the wall beside her. Rubbing away the veil of steam, she studied her image, smoothing her wet red hair out of her eyes . . . Eyes that were always hidden behind contact lenses; not because they were in anyway defective - her vision was perfect - but because fate, or her genes, or whatever, had chosen to give her one blue eye and one that was brown.

Dani found her idiosyncratic eyes quite attractive - they gave character to a conven­tionally pretty face - but she knew that other people found them strange.

Mitch, she suspected, would make a big joke of them, and find a way to make the humour sexual. He did this, as a rule, with most things - and with everything that had to do with her!

Still in the grip of her fantasy, Dani slid off her cool, narrow perch and lay down on the nubbly old bathmat. What she was about to do was madness, pure madness, but she was wallowing helplessly in desire. A hunger that wouldn't let her think...

Closing her eyes, she studied the dark screen behind her eyelids, then saw herself and Mitch here together, face to face in this small steam-filled room. He was sitting on the flipped-down lid of the lavatory - his body nude and totally relaxed. His skin was damp with moisture, his long muscular thighs were parted, and his dark eyes were intent behind his glasses. He was gazing down­wards; down towards the beautiful, gleaming erection that jutted up from his loins like a tower.

Dani had never seen Mitch's penis, but in the gym his skimpy shorts hadn't hidden much. It was a simple matter to extrapolate, to use her wishful, lustful thinking, and build a picture of his masculine glory.

In silent abstraction, her mirage began to stroke his own member, teasing it with slowly sliding fingers to an even greater hardness and redness. Watching, knowing he was a dream but not caring, Dani stirred her bottom uneasily on the bathmat while her inner self rose up, crossed the room and stood over Mitch. His thick, yearning rod seemed to twitch at her in greeting, and as if reading his own flesh, Mitch looked up, his eyes desperate and pleading in an expression she'd never seen before.

He was begging her to have mercy on him, she realised. Humbly offering her his body, making it ready as both a tribute to her loveliness and an implement to furnish her with pleasure. In both imagination and dream, Dani felt her vulva grow heavy and liquid. She wanted him, and that was no fantasy at all. As her fingers stole down towards her centre, Mitch's brown eyes lit up with new hope.

What Dani imagined now was so intense and vivid that she could almost believe she was living it. To all intents and purposes, she stood before him, touching her own body delicately and for her own pleasure, while he continued to suffer for its beauty. His penis looked so hard it must be painful; yet still he continued to rub it furiously, his hips bucking upwards and towards her, and his bare rump lifting clear of the seat.

Dani felt implacable. He'd been disgustingly sexist towards her, yet now it seemed he wanted her madly. More than anything in the world, she thought archly, yet he hadn't done anything to deserve her...

Why should she have pity on him, just because he had a perfect, almost godlike physique and a long and magnificent penis? She could make her own pleasure - she didn't need him. He was just a toy now, a living love-doll. A stimulating piece of male meat. Let him perform and entertain her and be done with it.

Back on the floor, on her bathmat, Dani squirmed and caressed her own body - shaking her head in confusion and denial, while dream-Mitch sobbed out his deep anguish.

'Please,' he seemed to beg - even though all Dani could hear was her own panting voice. 'Please,' murmured Mitch again, his slim pelvis waving and pumping and his erection dancing lewdly to its tune.

'No,' she whispered, and saw tears of stress glittering in his eyes. He was too far gone now - he needed the release she wouldn't give him - and that knowledge made her body sing with power.

Beneath her fingertips, her slick flesh fluttered, and she gasped. She was close too. She wanted what poor Mitch was begging for, and probably needed it even more than he did. Being as cruel to herself as she was to him, she pushed two fingers firmly into her body, and smashed her thumb down squarely on her clitoris. In her mind, she saw Mitch's handsome face twist in agony, and his tortured cock leap and start to throb. Silky, jetting whiteness shot out from its tip; impossibly thick and copious as it flew through the misty bathroom air. Dani watched it arc, sublimely, then begin to fall; and as it did so her own moment took her. Her real, pounding, pulsing moment, an orgasm so intense and fiery that she screamed out aloud in her rapture - still clearly seeing Mitch's slippery fingers and the thick spurts of his seed.

She saw his lips move too, saw him trying to speak - then suddenly, she heard him shouting loudly.

The words were punctuated by a sharp, insistent knocking at the door, and the voice itself was knowing.

For a minute, nothing made sense, then with a whimper of horror, Dani drifted back down into her body. Into her rippling and still trembling body...

The worst and most embarrassing thing had happened. The thing she'd almost been expecting. Almost wanted. She'd pleasured herself right to orgasm, and as she often did, she'd howled out her relief as she climaxed.

Yes indeed, here in the tiled, echoing silence of the bathroom, she'd shrieked like a banshee in her ecstasy - while its cause, the star of her fantasy, was standing just feet away in the corridor.

'Dani? Are you sure you're all right?' Mitch persisted, his laugh unmistakably salacious.

'Yes I am! Don't fuss! It's nothing,' Dani called out resignedly, then smiled. 'I just thought I saw something in the water...'


Copyright © 2012 by Portia Da Costa

 



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