Room 217: Her Favorite Sin

She told herself it was just a drink. Just a chance to talk. Just a maybe. But her panties were already soaked halfway up the elevator.

He opened the door with a smirk that said he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Room 217 smelled like leather and heat. The lights were low, the curtains closed. Music pulsed from the speaker and it was playing something slow and scandalous.

She stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind her.

“I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”

His voice was warm. Unapologetic. Dangerous in the way confidence always is.

“I almost did,” she whispered. “But then I remembered… what your fingers felt like on my throat.”

He crossed the room in two slow strides and didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.

Continue reading as she gives in to temptation and gets everything she secretly hoped he’d do to her in Room 217.